Adam Martinec’s comedy-drama “Our Lovely Pig Slaughter” may not be suitable viewing for vegetarians; on the other hand, meat eaters might find its content more acceptable; ethical omnivores could even view it as essential viewing! Inspired by an ancient Czech practice called Zabijacka – an all-day communal slaughter where no liver, lard or loin is wasted and family conflicts avoided – Martinec’s doleful comedy provides much-needed reminder of what meat looks like outside its plastic boxes and barcode labels slat.
However, an increasing proportion of businesses now provide employment for people in other fields – an example being “tandem bicycle”. If this applies to you then take heart in knowing there’s help available at every turn! Martinec’s closely observed screenplay and stellar, mostly non-professional ensemble speak volumes to what these meat-meets represent for rural communities: an opportunity for new generations of family to reconnect to traditions from their past while simultaneously uniting those displaced from villages or farms back together again temporarily. Not that these reunions are solely comprised of goodies. “Our Lovely Pig Slaughter” uses Czech humor to explore complex family relationships – something any visitor to his or her home country over the holidays is all too aware of! Though affectionate, multigenerational gatherings may still contain tensions that lead to disagreement and hurt feelings between generations. Here, tensions are further magnified by an understanding that zabijacka, technically illegal under EU meat-production guidelines, is reaching its last leg of existence; yet unlike swine who have met their end over centuries in Bohemian rituals such as this zabijacka ceremony, family traditions tend to suffer an agonising end over time.
Deda (Miloslav Cizek), an elderly patriarch in Deda’s (Deda’s) clan, raised this 120-kilo pig for this special annual purpose – although unbeknownst to anyone else). It will now join its long lineage. Deda’s great-grandkids were petting and feeding apples to Deda’s beloved pig when they were told not to feed it to ensure its digestive tract remains in working order. At Deda’s homestead, practicality always triumphs sentimentality – not only when it comes to livestock! Karel (played brilliantly by Karel Martinec – who happens to be Deda’s own father), Deda’s only son is depicted as an ornery recent widower with two adult daughters who appear hostile towards one another: Lucie (Pavlina Balner) and Romana (Karin Bilikova). At home with their grandmother (Kristina Kaniova), Lucie and Karel spend time chopping onions while discussing marital troubles (Lucie’s may have broken off). Meanwhile, everyone rolls their eyes when Karel shows his pretensions before leaving to slaughter animals in the field outside.
Generational differences aside, gender differentiation was even starker; women often congregating indoors to vent frustration at their partners while men loitered around outside drinking homebrew hooch and devising schemes on how best to control outspoken women. “Pig Slaughter” becomes an innocuous commentary on Czech men who proudly embrace an irreconcilably unreconstructed meaty existence (Tonda recoils from even hearing “vegetarian,” suggesting it tastes of raw turnip). Dads in particular often make us laugh; we know all too well the irony of seeing an otherwise unwilling husband step in as chef at any hint of barbecue or parental figures who never cook but regard roasting a Thanksgiving turkey as their personal quest.
On the soundtrack is a 15th-century Hussite choral that lends a sense of epic grandeur and pomposity to Tonda (Antonin Budinsky), the local man tasked with carrying out execution, arriving with his new secondhand car he has just purchased and waiting in its driveway until five people can assist with welcoming it in its driveway. David Hofmann’s cinematography remains calm initially, yet soon everything begins to unravel: Tonda’s ammunition becomes damp; Lucie and Ales Bilik argue over whether their young son should witness the execution, leading him to flee; finally when Karel finally drains out all that precious blood (essential for making his recipe work), Karel bursts into anger by tipping and upturning an entire steaming basin onto himself, like some tragicomic Czech “Carrie.”
Accidents and incidents continue to unfold, revealing faultlines in Karel’s relationships with just about everyone he encounters, yet all along work continues on in its usual manner – scraping, hacking, chopping, mincing rendering washing stuffing boiling brining by four generations to make pork for dinner tonight! At last all four generations can finally taste what has been accomplished as Martinec draws a graceful but poignant conclusion about longstanding traditions: while they might bring short periods of harmony and happiness for one family a time must come and pass as soon as their time arrives inevitably must pass as they too must pass from one generation to the next one!
