In recent years, Guy Debord, like Georges Bataille, has become one of those French philosophers that has become a kind of conceptual brand. The name registers a certain transgressive je ne sais quoi in the mind of the average well read or well educated member of the public, but the ideas themselves seem a bit of a jumble compared to the rigor one associates with Roland Barthes during the heyday of structuralism in the 80s or popularity of existentialists like Jean Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir in the 50s. Bataille has become synonymous with kinky sex and the likes of Christophe Honoré’s adaptation Ma Mère are probably going to do little to dissuade the casual interloper that there is much else in the way of big ideas after the fact.