Karl Lemieux

(On Cable TV, September 2022) As an overweight pure-laine French Canadian, I’m probably made of 2% poutine at any given time—but if you’re watching Maudite Poutine (translated as “Damned Poutine,” the kind of title you’d expect for a foodie comedy) hoping to get delicious insights on fries, curd cheese and dark gravy, then you’re so, so, so sorely mistaken. At least the opening minutes will set you straight, as the film’s harsh black-and-white gritty aesthetics present an opening sequence in which a few young men are taken up to an office to be brutally beaten up. Writer-director Karl Lemieux sets his film entirely in rural Quebec, exploring the small-scale yet utterly ruthless local bikers who control the flow of drugs in the area. The film is clearly, resolutely, obstinately not fun to watch: everything about it ugly from the visuals to the topic to the music (considering that the protagonist also plays in a punk-rock band). As much as it’s important to note Lemieux’s consistent artistic approach (those shots from inside small factories and warehouses… beautiful) and how he refuses to make the film accessible, I have a hard time being enthusiastic about the result. Despite my usual favourable tilt toward French-Canadian productions, Maudite Poutine is a 91-minute ordeal on all senses and doesn’t really care about presenting a narrative—let alone an interesting one! Too bad—and I’m still waiting for my Plateau-set foodie urban romantic comedy that will best reflect the same title.