Right on screen at the outset, the viewer, or reviewer, is enjoined not to reveal the identity of "the client." (The Miramax company, hoping to recapture past fortune, even makes specific reference to its The Crying Game.) But this willfully misrepresents, or misunderstands, the nature of the narrative. The client's identity is not a secret, is not a surprise, is plainly forecast in the printed prologue, is in fact meant to be (along with several acres of flesh) the principal selling point of the movie: the client (close your eyes if you still don't want to know) is a pig, charged with murder. The movie overall, set in a 15th-century France populated chiefly by Britishers (Colin Firth, Ian Holm, Donald Pleasence, Nicol Williamson, Lysette Anthony, Harriet Walter), isn't compelling enough to warrant much fuss. It follows the common practice in historical fiction of carrying a torch into the Dark Ages (the light of latter-day knowledge, wisdom, humor, superiority), when of course the trickier task would be to carry the Darkness into the glare of today. Written and directed by Leslie Megahey. (1993) — Duncan Shepherd
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