One of the most controversial films of the 1990s, the Belgian Man Bites Dog (C'est arrivé près de chez vous) is an often shocking but undeniably effective satire on our culture's desensitization to violence and particularly on the culpability of the media. Played absolutely straight, Man Bites Dog is one of the blackest comedies you'll ever see, and it will stay with you—as long as you understand that this ain't just a gore flick. Its aspirations are much higher.

A group of young 16mm documentarians—primary among the few members are André (André Bonzel) and Rémy (Rémy Belvaux)—are in the midst of creating a film about local serial killer Ben (Benoît Poelvoorde). He calmly and almost arrogantly explains his murderous actions, and the camera bluntly watches as Ben wanders from kill to kill, as if the act of slaughter is his vocation. At first interested in capturing Ben's philosophies and soliloquies, the group finds itself more and more invested in Ben's casual atrocities, until the filmmakers are sickly, actively involved. The conceit of Man Bites Dog is that what we're watching is the finished documentary these filmmakers produced, amateurish and stark, all the way to its Blair Witch-like conclusion.

The grainy black-and-white footage, shot on a handheld camera and edited jarringly, gives Man Bites Dog its edge of authenticity. Couple that with the fact that the filmmakers have used their real names, and you have an eerie compilation of alarming interviews and disturbing imagery. Horrifically, Ben comes across as a charming, interesting fellow. His life is the life of an Everyman: He loves his family and his girlfriend, and enjoys healthy friendships. He can get happily drunk and have a great time with his buddies. He's reasonably smart and is given to thoughtful diatribes about society. And he's also a vicious murderer, casually racist but killing with no agenda or preference.

But in reality, the mayhem of Man Bites Dog is secondary to the film's primary message, and that is the depth to which the media are involved in the violence of our society. In the film's documentarians, you have a vivid satirical symbol of a media presence that has gone beyond mere reporting of information and become participants in that violence. Could you say the same of modern media throughout our culture? One eye-opening segment of Man Bites Dog features yet another killer (a competitor of Ben's) entering the picture—complete with his own documentary film crew. Another news channel, vying for its own exclusive.

Many viewers can't stomach Man Bites Dog. Some sequences—particularly a certain rape scene—have been unavailable (until now) in the United States. This Criterion DVD presents the uncut version of the film and restores the rape sequence. Although this sequence is horrible, it's also a key scene that bolsters the entire film's intent.

Criterion presents Man Bites Dog in a pleasing anamorphic-widescreen transfer of the film's original 1.66:1 theatrical presentation. Given the film's low-budget origins and intentionally raw look, the black-and-white image quality is excellent. Man Bites Dog is supposed to look like an amateurish documentary, shot on cheap 16mm film, and that's what you get, albeit with appropriate levels of detail and sharpness. The print shows significant grain, enhancing the mood and texture of this "documentary." As for print flaws, I noticed some dirt and flecks at the start of the film, but they became a non-issue.

The DVD contains the original French soundtrack (with removable English subtitles). The sound is mono, straight in the center of the image. I wouldn't have it any other way. Dialog is accurate if tinny, and sound suffers at the high end—for example, during shouted dialog and gunshots. This is definitely not an audio experience with a lot of depth. But there's a beauty to this soundtrack's simplicity. Frankly, a surround-sound remaster would be ludicrous.

First up is Making cinema, a brief collection of black-and-white behind-the-scenes stills that are actually pretty interesting and humorous.

Although I looked forward to the 9-minute Interview with the filmmakers, this feature turns out to be a bust. Filmed in 1993, it contains handheld footage of Balvaux, Bonzel, and Poelvoorde talking about their film in three settings: walking through a crowded and noisy tunnel, standing in front of a huge poster of the film, and sitting at an outdoor cafe. They're supposedly talking about the genesis of the movie, about the main character's motivations, and about the controversy of their plot, but you'll learn very little from this piece for the simple reason that these men are nearly unintelligible English speakers. I would have much preferred to listen to them in their native language, with subtitles.

The disc also includes the 12-minute short film No C4 for Daniel-Daniel, a 1989 piece filmed by the same crew of Balvaux, Bonzel, and Poelvoorde. It's essentially a fictional movie trailer for a non-existent spy film. The only similarity to Man Bites Dog is that it's a satire—a much more blatant one. This short film is presented in non-anamorphic widescreen, and image quality is acceptable.

You also get the film's trailer, the title of which is translated as Happening in your neighborhood. This is nicely presented in anamorphic widescreen, but doesn't look as sharp as the feature presentation.

Man Bites Dog is not for the squeamish, nor for those expecting merely a bloodbath. Sure, the film contains graphic scenes of murder and rape. But when you watch this bitter satire, your focus should be not on Ben (as powerful a character as he is), but rather on the doomed filmmakers and what they've captured between the frames of the footage they've left behind.