The last refuge of the damned
Seth explores the mysteries of lunchtime - for some reason
Seth Rantwynn
Life in a society is bound by rules.
Many of these are unwritten, but are nonetheless binding. These sacred codes are born of long held universal truths known to every civilised culture.
And among these rules, one stands unchallenged:
Do not mess with another man’s lunch*.
(* Also applies to breakfast, dinner, tea, supper, elevenses, afternoon tea, and arbitrary treats.)
I don’t care how evil the guy is, I don’t care what crimes he’s committed, none of this matters, because that meal is a moment of normalcy, tranquility. It’s what separates us from the animals we devour.
And yet, pop culture’s so-called “heroes” feel they have a right—an obligation even—to go marching in, wrapped in the armour of self-righteousness and disrespect for common decency, and cuff the poor sod in the middle of his breakfast. It’s just not the done thing. Let the man finish his meal in peace, and then you can arrest him, or beat him up, blow up his house, murder his wife and children in cold blood, whatever it was you were planning to do. Violate the meal code and you make a martyr of the villain, and a monster of the hero.
So let’s take a look at some instances in the media of heroes exposing their true colours for all the world to jeer at.
Daredevil (2015–2018)
In this popular Netflix show, Wilson Fisk (masterfully portrayed by Vincent D’Onofrio, the guy from Full Metal Jacket that was forced to eat a jam doughnut while his entire platoon did pressups—that was a show that respected the art of enjoying an arbitrary treat).
Sorry, I’ve lost my train of thought now—let’s start over.
Wilson Fisk as we all know is a brutal crime lord with an art degree he’s not afraid to use on anyone foolish enough to get in his way. When we first meet him though, he’s just a man preparing eggs for breakfast. Now there’s omelettes, and then there’s omelettes, and the one he was making was definitely in the second category. He cooked up those eggs with the love and tenderness one would normally reserve for grooming adorable little puppies and putting ribbons in their hair before taking them to the park in a pram to show them off. Awww!
No words were spoken. His actions were precise and deliberate. This was a man at peace with his surroundings, at one with nature.
But we, the audience, are told to find this sinister, scary even. A man making an omelette that he will enjoy with some crusty bread, a light salad, and washed down with a hot cup of tea. I mean, it’s not like he once decapitated someone with a car door or anything*. Come on Netflix, your directorial choices are an act of violence here.
And let’s be real: if more men cooked breakfast like this, the city wouldn’t have needed Daredevil in the first place. They’d have to change the name of the town from “Hell’s Kitchen” to “Lovely Kitchen of Nice” or something.
*Jack informs me that he did, in fact, decapitate someone with a car door, but I think this only strengthens the point which was being made, just now, by me.
(Reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lPhi7sYt5-s)
Deadwood (2004–2006)
In the fictional show famous for people swearing, like… a lot, Al Swearington, sorry, Swearengen (Ian McShane—he was in a whole episode of Game of Thrones once, I believe the same one that had Ed Sheeran as Ser Eddard of Sheeransby, roadkill of hair, flatulence of voice. I remember it well. Some guys were trying to enjoy supper while he injured their earballs with his latest single, The Knight Rider, or whatever it was called). Where was I?
Oh yes, Al is regarded as the de facto ruler of the titular Deadwood, a lawless town in the American frontier. He’s a pimp, a murderer, and a power broker—but more than that, he’s a man who just wants to eat his god damned breakfast in peace. The last thing he wants is some ginger nonce using his place of business as a venue to promote his latest wayward warblings.
Throughout the show, Al is constantly interrupted mid-sausage by crises: political, financial, bloody, and often all three at the same time. No one ever knocks. No one ever waits for him to finish chewing. It’s all “Al, come quickly, I found a bit of chewing gum on my chair and I can’t get it off,” or “Al, I need your help, this guy wants to smash my head in with a special hammer,” or “Al, can I borrow your Sopranos DVD collection, you know, the show where everyone is always eating and nobody ever interrupts them?” It’s relentless. The camera even lingers on his plate—beautifully greasy, tragically untouched.
The guy’s trying to run a town and you won’t let him sit down and enjoy a hot meal. What is the world coming to?
Honestly, by the end I was rooting for typhus, which I hear gingers are particularly susceptible to.
(Reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CwElIaJ-rBg Ed Sheeron in GoT)
Star Wars (1977–1983)
For a space fantasy series, there are surprisingly few scenes of people going to the toilet. There are however numerous scenes of people having their meals messed with, and normally all by the same person.
Luke (Mark Hamill, who you may remember from Star Wars, and often mistakenly referred to as Luke Skywalker, in spite of there being no evidence he ever used that name prior to his wrecking havoc upon the Death Star). So Luke, he ruined a perfectly good meal at the homestead by getting grumpy with his adoptive parents for caring too much, and then getting them killed as they were preparing breakfast the next morning, because he had been looking for space porn without a proper VPN. He was pretty rude during Yoda’s meal time too, though Yoda did mess with his lunch first, so we can reasonably conclude that Degobar is a lawless place where decency simply don’t exist.
But there was one meal he ruined that was just unforgivable. The poor Rancor, a very loving pet if nurtured with care, had just finished his first two courses of lunch and was about to move onto dessert, when Luke, blunt weapon that he is, locks the Rancor’s jaw open with the remains of the previous night’s supper, and then drops a spiked gate on his neck, killing him instantly. That’s just plain rude. Admittedly, Luke himself was the dessert in question, but that’s no excuse for barbarism.
Now I think about it, he also made short work of a village banquet later that very same day under similar circumstances, while openly mocking the villagers’ sincerely held religious beliefs.
By comparison, the little tea party held by Darth Vader (Sebastian Shaw) seemed very civilised, until Han showed up, shots blazing. No wonder he had him tortured. It was the least he deserved.
Evidently, manners maketh the more machine than man.
Pulp Fiction (1994)
I’ve never been to a Big Kahuna, but I hear they have some tasty burgers. That was almost certainly how Brett (Frank Whaley—I’ve never heard of him either) felt that fateful morning when a couple of suited hitmen came bursting into his apartment, took a great big bite of his breakfast, intimidated him, shot his crazy haired friend, intimidated him a bit more, and then filled him with holes large enough to ensure he would never find out just how tasty that burger was.
Why not take a great big dump on his kitchen table while you’re at it, you savage misanthropes?
Of course, it does ultimately come full circle as Jules and Vincent (Samual L Jackson and John Travolta) then get to have their own breakfast upended by a pair of very inconsiderate thieves. Sure, they deserved something, but instead of feeling a satisfied inner peace safe in the knowledge that justice had prevailed, I just felt empty.
Andor (Season 2, Episode 8-ish)
Dr. Gorst (Joshua James—I’ve got nothing) is not a very nice man—and don’t let his docile demeanour deceive you. He’s the Empire’s top psychological torturer, well known in Imperial circles for using the recorded death screams of a now (thanks to him, probably) extinct alien race which reduces the toughest interrogatees to blubbering wrecks, permanently, almost. When Stalin was a boy, he’d have his mum check under his bed every night for Doctor Gorst. If wartime atrocities had a name… you get the picture.
But even monsters need to eat.
There’s a spoilery scene in Season 2 of Andor where he returns to his sterile white lab after a busy day inflicting unspeakable brutality on the brains of the innocent, holding a small, beautifully presented pastry, delicately wrapped in inviting packaging. In this brief moment, Gorst is no longer a torturer. He is simply an everyman, tired from work, looking forward to a well deserved snack.
But before he can even sit down, Bix Caleen—traumatized former prisoner, freedom fighter, snack saboteur—holds him at gunpoint, tortures him with his own machinations, and ultimately, casually blows up the lab as she walks purposely towards the camera, not even looking over her shoulder to acknowledge the explosion.
What an uncouth rotter!
The director knew what he’d done though. The camera lingers on the uneaten pastry, gleaming with misplaced hope, not once, not twice, but thrice during that scene. We all saw it and we all felt the horror.
A dessert died that day, and no one said a word.
(Reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TIkThFQLgMs)
Honorary Mentions
Honorary Mention 1: Watchmen (1986-1987)
For all these crimes against human decency, Watchmen is perhaps the only memorable example of a fictional character acknowledging that even the best intended actions can spoil even the simplest meal.
As Ozymandius (Alan Moore) bravely attempted to impose world peace on an unsuspecting public, Laurie Juspeczyk (Alan Moore) found herself overcome with grief at all the lovingly cooked and eagerly anticipated takeaway meals that would never now be eaten. Over and over again she repeats, “Tandoori to go. That’s all they went out for, these people… Tandoori to go”.
As the meals got trampled on a sidewalk strewn with hungry bodies and a trans-dimensional abomination from beyond your worst nightmares, she alone understood the true horrors of a war nobody wanted, and an abrupt ceasefire nobody saw coming unless they had really paid close attention to the details. It’s a graphic novel that rewards repeat reading in that regard.
Honorary Mention 2: Goldeneye (1995)
While Q is showing James Bond the hilarious gadgets he will be using in that movie, the ones that will never appear again in any other movie, even when they could prove very useful, Bond examines an elaborate sandwich themed curiosity, causing Q to scold him.
“Don’t touch that! That’s my lunch!”
Bond complies.
He had made an innocent mistake, and his corrective action was ultimately deemed sufficiently satisfactory for the circumstances to allow. Implied apology accepted, Mr Bond.
The subject could be laid to rest with peace in the galaxy restored.
So remember kids, there is a time to fight evil, and there is a time to let a man finish his meal in peace. In your quest for justice, don’t be so hasty that you forget what makes us all human.
Don’t become the monster you think they are
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