Possibly still smarting from bullet-headed ex-Villa boss John Gregory’s claims that he was too fat –  and the further embarrassment he heaped upon himself by enlisting Cherie Blair for legal help – David Ginola followed in the footsteps of fellow mercurial Frenchman Eric Cantona and embarked on a career in acting.  But instead of seagulls, trawlers, British monarchs and Ken Loach, Ginola, ever the contrarian, disappeared into the murky world of butchery for his film debut.

For years, I have told anybody who would listen that this film existed, to their sheer disinterest awed disbelief.  And now I have the proof.

A synopsis of the film runs thus:

The new, handsome boucher (Ginola) cuts quite a dash with his open shirt, tanned chest and white teeth, as he transforms the little butchers shop on Rue Cloche.

Word soon spread fast about bon rump on display, and the shop was buzzing with excited female patrons. But the young Boucher was lonely. He needed a good woman.

And before long he had one. Unfortunately not his own.

The result has a real sting in the tale for all involved…

"Mon dieu!"

Has anyone (including you, David, if you are reading) seen this film?  Please, somebody, tell me more.  This all recalls another French film about a skin-headed, troublesome butcher; Irreversible director Gaspar Noe’s genuinely horrific Seul Contre Tous/I Stand Alone.  Even the poster is scary.  Thank God Butcher-Porn was a genre that never took off.  Let’s keep it that way.