by Eurocheese
The advice I received going into a screening of Anh Hung Tran’s The Taste of Things was don’t go in hungry. With its wide release coming up on Valentine’s Day, I have to assume it will send couples scrambling to their late-night dinner reservations, prepared to order the entire menu. I heard audible groans of longing from the audience as we watched images of what can best be described as food porn – glowing sequences of fresh ingredients simmering in their juices, guided by chefs obsessed with their craft. If only we could jump through the screen and experience those meals with all of our senses. This is the immersive experience Chocolat wished it could have achieved...
The Taste of Things lingers on its culinary moments, but it also wisely uses them to set its pace, easing the audience in with its tranquility and its charm. Perhaps it was too subtle for the Academy, though it’s hard to discuss this film without bringing up its reputation as the film chosen over Anatomy of a Fall as the French submission for International Feature this year. It’s a shame that its legacy will be tied to that controversy, because this is a beautiful piece of cinema in its own right.
The slices of French countryside living offered by the film are not limited to the kitchen, though – the sun-soaked gardens are luminescent, and every room of the house is equally inviting. Gourmet Dodin has seemingly created a cuisine utopia, where the rich and powerful could only hope to entice him into their late 19th century dining rooms, seeking his approval of their own recipes. The palpable lust for food Benoît Magimel gives his character and his constant preoccupation with perfection are only reinforced by his successes, but even in his ideal world, he can’t have everything. He can control every aspect of his creations, but that control doesn’t extend to the real world.
Also fervently perusing her own utopia is his assisting chef Eugénie, played by Juliette Binoche in one of the finest performances of her career. With a slight smile, she can emote so powerfully on screen that it changes the context of a scene. Her own drive and unwillingness to be controlled by Dodin’s obsessions, while still feeding them and dovetailing them with her own, makes her a fascinating character to watch. Even in rooms where the audience is determined to see the next inspired dish, the moment she comes on screen, she steals all focus.
Despite its long running time, The Taste of Things breezes by thanks to the compelling romantic dynamic between the leads and the excitement to see what visual treats will be served up next. It feels like a traditional costume drama, but no one is going to accuse its sumptuous tone of being stuffy. This film doesn’t just stop to smell the roses – its focus on everyday delights is the entire point. If any viewer is willing to give in to the experience, I have to assume they will fall in love with it, as I did.
I’ve already said it, but it bears repeating – this is a sumptuous feast for the senses. Come ready for a romantic, old-fashioned cinephile delight and if you are wise, book your reservations for dessert afterwards in advance. I promise you’ll have room after enjoying one of the best films of last year.
Grade: A
The Taste of Things is enjoying a limited release this week, courtesy of IFC Films, before expanding in time for Valentine's Day. Don't miss it.