This admission really ages me, but I saw Eating Raoul in theaters during its original release. I was 14, and I'm sure many of its subtleties flew right over my head. A black comedy that has since attained something of a cult following, Eating Raoul did make an impression on my young mind: I knew it was like nothing I'd seen before. Its frank sexuality and dismissive attitude toward serial killing were eye-opening and hilarious. I have a distinct memory of my older companions that day being bowled over by this kinky, microbudget laughfest.

Oh, the ravages of time.

Viewed today, Eating Raoul is a somewhat cringe-inducing exercise. Its humor now seems strained, and its black-comedy attitude is no longer outrageous—particularly when you consider that black comedy has flourished in many films since. To be sure, there are laughs to be had. I particularly enjoyed a scene that takes place in an adult-novelty store, and a scene involving a young Ed Begley Jr. But a lot of Eating Raoul seems forced now, and humor that was dry and understated in 1982 comes across today as just silly.

Paul Bartel writes, directs, and stars as Paul Bland, a wine snob—ahem, connoisseur—and liquor-store employee. Nose lifted haughtily above the lowbrow activity surrounding him, Paul lives in a Los Angeles apartment building with his beautiful wife Mary (Mary Woronov). Much to their disgust, the building is a haven to slimy "swingers." After one of their swinging-70s ilk drunkenly assaults Mary, Paul takes his trusty cast-iron frying pan and ends up murdering the fella. When they clear out the dude's wallet, the couple finds that this murder business might just be the ticket to realizing their long-held dream of opening their own restaurant. If only Paul and Mary had a convenient method for disposing of corpses. Enter Raoul, a "security expert" scammer who discovers the couple's nefarious modus operandi and squeezes himself into the deal with a plan for the bodies.

Although much of the humor of Eating Raoul is inherent in that surface story, there's more to be found in its details. The ways in which Paul and Mary's 50s-era sensibilities clash with their neighbors is a constant source of amusement, as disco swingers try in vain to sway them from their prudish personalities. The Blands slumber in separate twin beds, and they wear high-necked pajamas as if to protect their chastity. They occupy an island of innocence in a sea of depravity. The way they realize their murderous impulses is only natural: The bottom-dwellers they're killing are so far beneath them that they're not really people. They're just a way to make money.

I've made Eating Raoul sound enticing, but the truth is that it's a film to be enjoyed almost solely from the perspective of nostalgia. If you remember loving the film, years ago, you might find that it holds some comedic power. But watching it fresh today will probably evoke rolling eyes and shrugs.

HOW'S IT LOOK?
Columbia/TriStar presents Eating Raoul in an anamorphic-widescreen transfer of the film's original 1.85:1 theatrical presentation. Eating Raoul hasn't aged well. The limitations of budget are really on display here, as this image is muddy, grainy, and soft. Detail and sharpness are mediocre to poor. Colors are mushy and bleeding. Check out the scene at the swinger's apartment, which is bathed in red. You can make out practically no detail amidst the vast smear of crimson. I wouldn't call this a bad transfer, because it's really no fault of that process. These elements are simply in bad shape.

HOW'S IT SOUND?
The disc offers an English Dolby Digital 2.0 stereo track, but it sounds like mono. And this is a sound presentation that—like the video—hasn't aged very well. True to the movie's microbudget origins, the audio is a hollow, muffled track that is disappointing more for the faults of its source material than for the transfer.

WHAT ELSE IS THERE?
Eating Raoul is a film that might have benefited from at least a meager special edition, with perhaps commentary from the leading performers. Unfortunately, Columbia/TriStar has elected to release the film as an essentially bare-bones release.

All we get are Trailers for Big Shot's Funeral, The Dark Crystal, and Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

WHAT'S LEFT TO SAY?
An undeniable cult classic, Eating Raoul is a low-budget yukfest that has suffered from the ravages of time. You might want to add it to your collection if you're already a fan, but be warned that image and sound quality are subpar, and substantive extras are nowhere to be found.