"My husband and I are fifteen years apart. When I met him, I was twenty-one years old. He was thirty-five. For the people of our small town in the center of France, I am a whore. A gigolo. A self-serving little slut." Thus begins Cuisine bourgeoise, which evokes, through the story of social dinners he is forced to attend, the hell of contempt, condescension, and icy ostracism that the local bourgeoisie subjects the narrator of this film, a young homosexual of twenty-one, living in a couple with an older man, in the very small town on the banks of the Loire where his partner is a prominent notable.
0.0/10"My husband and I are fifteen years apart. When I met him, I was twenty-one years old. He was thirty-five. For the people of our small town in the center of France, I am a whore. A gigolo. A self-serving little slut." Thus begins Cuisine bourgeoise, which evokes, through the story of social dinners he is forced to attend, the hell of contempt, condescension, and icy ostracism that the local bourgeoisie subjects the narrator of this film, a young homosexual of twenty-one, living in a couple with an older man, in the very small town on the banks of the Loire where his partner is a prominent notable.
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