It's one minute long. What is there to say about a one-minute film? Answer: a fair bit, but as a viewing experience it's the equivalent of a one-line gag.
Short description: two pieces of meat fall in love. The carving knife gives birth to them. The female slab of meat looks at herself in a spoon. She giggles. They flirt. They turn on the radio and dance.
They see a bowl of flour and play in it.
It ends Svankmajerly.
That's it, basically. You'll wish he'd made something more substantial out of it, but on the other hand, at its actual length, it's juicy. It doesn't hang around. It's packing storytelling and, yes, characterisation into its brief running time, whereas some of Svankmajer's other films could perhaps be accused of having indulged themselves. It's witty. It's creating personalities for these two bloody steaks.
The choice of animating meat is also significant, partly because Svankmajer's always been fascinated by food and partly because the meat we're looking at is obviously the result of killing a real animal. Svankmajer could have animated anything: pebbles, bootlaces, toenail clippings, etc. He chose meat.
Don't expect more than it is. It's a one-minute film. However it's doing more in that minute than your average film would manage in half an hour.