The Taste of Things
The Passion of Dodin Bouffant
Food. The common denominator of all life. Some species do it better than others, but from high to low, predators or prey, everything is just looking for its next meal. Speaking of food, The Bear returned yesterday for season 3, so there’s a good chance you’ll be watching that over the weekend, but if you feel like you need more culinarily aligned entertainment, I recommend checking out The Taste of Things (2023). Be warned, however, that there is much less yelling than in The Bear. (Yelling of the heart, maybe.) For anyone who keeps up with film industry news, The Taste of Things found itself in a strange bit of drama around Oscar time, which had the unfortunate effect of stoking the perception that the film was in some way inferior to the Palme d’Or winning film Anatomy of a Fall (2023). The truth is that both films are great. The latter for its envelope-pushing and commentary on the state of modern feminism, and the former for its beautiful, traditional approach to slow and heartfelt storytelling, not unlike an old familiar meal made well, a pot-au-feu.
Set in France in 1889, the film centers on Eugénie (Juliette Binoche) and Dodin as they meticulously, painstakingly, sometimes quietly, sometimes loudly, and always thoughtfully prepare food for various people. Sometimes, they prepare food for guests. Sometimes for visiting Princes. Sometimes for each other. If the movie has a real star, it’s the food. Long sequences of meals being carefully put together often run with minimal style: no non-diegetic music, minor editing, and camera movement only to get us from dish to dish. So fluid is the entire film crew that one quickly forgets the ludicrous amount of choreography that must’ve been required between the crew, actors, kitchen equipment, and food that would be necessary to elicit the illusion of real people cooking in a kitchen together as if they’ve been doing it for years. If you’re looking for beautiful lingering long takes of delicious meals being prepared, you’ve found your new favorite movie.
Dodin is in love with Eugénia, and it’s no secret. Their passion seems evident to everyone around them, and they work harmoniously despite how their love goes unfulfilled. Or does it? Grand questions of life and how we live abound. Some may feel borderline cliché, such as discussions about the “point” of marriage, and others feel new and excitingly thought-provoking. In one scene, Dodin prepares dishes for a pupil from the region, a young girl named Pauline. Dodin watches as Pauline tries bone marrow, her face confirming what he suspected: she doesn’t like it. “Remember how this tastes. This is what it’s supposed to taste like.” Taste is subjective, but Dodin explains to Pauline that her palate will continue to develop over time and that she needs to remember this taste to make marrow correctly. The film cleverly illustrates the idea that something subjective, like taste, can be carefully trained to identify the objective qualities of a perfectly prepared dish.
One last lingering thought from the film, a thought from many films, really. Throughout my life, I’ve seen many depictions of people crying alone. Any drama, just by virtue of having a story worth telling (hopefully), will put big emotions on display to (hopefully) connect with an audience in rare and meaningful ways. There are moments of profound sadness in The Taste of Things that my younger self would’ve disliked. “Why doesn’t this character just do X or Y? Why do they choose to suffer?” This film reminded me of my past dislike for seeming melodrama, while also gently refuting it. Maybe age does refine the palate.
The Taste of Things
Written and Directed Trần Anh Hùng
2023
135 minutes
French
Recommended way to watch (at time of publication): Available to rent on all major streaming services.
You’ll like this if you like: Eat Drink Man Woman (1994), Babette’s Feast (1987), Big Night (1996)