May 2003

Food Films

Why is it that people are always interested in a film about great food? In my other career as a wine writer and restaurant critic, I’m constantly around chefs, wait-staff, and sommeliers. Even they all rush to see the latest food film when it hits the local theater. Why do they want to use their off time to go see a movie about what they spend the rest of their day doing? When I was assigned this story, I started asking the food professionals all these questions.

The most common answer is that we all eat and we all like to eat as well as possible. If for some reason we can’t afford or don’t know how to make glorious food, then the next best thing is to watch someone else do it. Watching food is not like dancing about architecture. Granted, most people’s first thoughts about food are of the smells and tastes. But at the high end, food is as much visual as anything else. Also, unless you work in a high-end restaurant, you probably never know what goes on in the kitchen or how those wonderful dishes are accomplished. The audience can become food voyeurs, learning about what goes into the little masterpieces. But that still doesn’t quite explain the attraction.

Another chef told me he thought that all people love good food, but only a few know how to make it. Oh, sure -- your mom made a great pot roast and your granny made good pies, but I’m talking about someone able to create a feast and do it 365 days a year, two or three times a day. We want to see how they create that magic.

A person blessed with the ability to mix heat with meat, vegetables, grains, fruits, and spices, and come out with a work of visual, aromatic, and flavorful art, is sure to be popular. In Big Night, actor Tony Shalhoub says, "To eat good food is to be close to God." Everyone wants to be close to God. Even rock stars, actors, TV personalities, pro athletes, and politicians treasure a seat in a great restaurant

My experience in a professional kitchen comes mostly from serving as a prep assistant to big-name chefs when they come to Austin, Texas, to teach cooking classes. Rather than pay $75 to watch, I offer my services to the school. I end up spending eight hours working directly with the chef, learning the minutiae that create the difference between a square meal and an indulgence. So I have my own opinions about which films accurately portray a kitchen. But I also asked some local chefs for their evaluations of how truthful the films are.

Almost all agreed that the most accurate representation of a bustling kitchen was in Dinner Rush (****). The movie unfolds as a treatise on new-versus-old cuisine, then shifts gears into an organized crime exposé, all before the intro credits ever appear. As this incredibly rich film develops, several characters are introduced, and all have an eventual role to play in one of the most neatly executed dramas of our new century. But the thing that grabs foodies is the kitchen footage. The chef’s diva outburst in chapter 4 is something I’ve personally lived through. In my case, the chef couldn’t fire me because I was a volunteer. But he took 45 minutes of my herb chop work and loudly tossed it in the garbage, making sure everyone in the kitchen understood that I was an idiot. Chapters 5 and 15 show both the turmoil and the infinite pains it takes to create food art. Besides the wonderful story and the authentic kitchen scenes, Dinner Rush features superb photography, wonderful music, and an ensemble cast that will have you searching for their prior work. This film is too young to count as a classic, but it has all the ingredients.

Another impressive food film with a terrific storyline is Yin shi nan nu (aka Eat Drink Man Woman, ***1/2). Directed with great affection by Ang Lee (Sense and Sensibility; Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon), the film follows Master Chef Chu and his three daughters as they ply the roads of love. The food scenes, all revolving around the family’s Sunday dinner, demonstrate the fine art of Asian cooking. Food photography is an art in itself, and Lee’s crew provides an orgy of images. Still, the most important part of the film is its humanity, especially the life-affirming finish.

The most popular food film is Big Night (***). It is really more a story of the clash of two brothers and their divergent beliefs about quality, love, and success than it is a food film -- at least for the first two thirds of its length. The last third, however, is what everyone remembers. When the crowd, which has been waiting for a special guest, decides to go ahead and have dinner, we are propelled into another food orgy. Groans of delight give way to groans of excess, and the story reaches a conclusion that reinforces the power of la famiglia. I recently had an opportunity to attend a reenactment of the meal. Just as in the film, pleasure became pain, but the crowd transformed from epicures to gluttons without complaint. Plentiful wine led to off-balance embraces and the slurred pledges of friendship. I loved it.

Back to the argument of food as visual art: The most beautiful of food films is Vatel (***). A story about Louis XIV visiting a minor noble in the western part of France in 1671, the plot largely revolves around insipid nobility and noble peasants. In the movie, Louis’ emissaries send a note to the Prince de Condé, stating that, "He wants no fuss, merely the simple pleasures of life in the country. In other words, if you value His Majesty's favor you will set no limit to the extravagance and ingenuity of the festivities." Unfortunately, the Prince is broke. Nonetheless, he pulls off an incredible entertainment thanks to his loyal servant, François Vatel (Gérard Depardieu). The storyline has plenty of interesting twists and turns, but the main beauty of the film is in the preparation and serving of the food, along with its allied entertainments. Cinematographer Robert Fraisse got his start in soft-core porn (Emmanuelle l'antivierge, Histoire d'O, Lady Chatterley's Lover) and he looks at food almost like sex. Production designer Jean Rabasse was also responsible for The City of Lost Children and he brings a similar dystopian look to the lives of the peasants doing all the cooking. Director Roland Joffé (responsible for beautiful films like The Mission and stinkers like The Scarlet Letter) always brings a stunning visual sense to his films, and Vatel is his most beautiful film. Unfortunately, unless you live in a community with a thriving art-theater presence, you probably never got a chance to see Vatel.

There’s a reason most food films end up in art houses. The audience for these movies is generally 30-plus years old and that’s not the target audience for your local megaplex. Most food films have complicated story lines and a cast and crew that are aiming for something more substantial and meaningful than the standard fare -- film as a five-course tasting menu with fine wine compared to the megaplex’s McDonalds.

In my hometown, we have three theaters, all called the Alamo Drafthouse, that discreetly serve food and drink along with the films. Several times a year, they partner up with a friend of mine, Virginia Wood, and offer food films matched with the identical meal from the film. They call the series "Eat, Drink, Watch Movies." Tickets benefit the local food bank and they sell out faster than a California wildfire. This is one of the best ways to see and experience a food film.

 ...Wes Marshall
wesm@hometheatersound.com

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