The Taste of Things

A couple of seasoned cooks rediscover their passion in the Loire Valley in the late 19th century. Sounds like the premise of the sentimental movies my Grandma used to watch, but instead, we are talking about a work of a rare sensibility, delicacy, and balance. Like the dish at the center, the magic sparks from the slow and laborious simmering of simple but carefully calibrated ingredients. Perhaps more than half of the runtime is spent in the meticulous portrayal of the daily tasks of the two, in an exaltation of slow food both in preparation and consumption, cradling us with the astonishing beauty of direction, the golden warmth of diffused light, and the little sounds coming from the kitchen.

Despite the relatively limited space reserved for actual narration, having spent so much time in the kitchen with the two protagonists allows us to grasp even what remained unspoken, in a relationship that is at times so discreet as to seem idealized, at times tenderly carnal, at times strangely ambiguous in overlapping romance with professional respect. Through the preparation of dishes, we have seen them renew their complicity, subtly flirt with each other, but also elevate themselves individually as in a sort of ascetic ritual.

Undoubtedly, one of the best uses of food as the main expressive and communicative vehicle for a human story, without being excessively condescending or unnecessarily artificial. Between this and "Perfect Days," I am rediscovering a considerable cathartic potential in the depiction of manual labor in film. It might lack the emotional waves of a melodrama, but it makes you lose track of time in the same way as when you spend hours on YouTube watching people build bamboo houses.

Imagine a period piece Chefs Table, with a simplistic romance subplot woven between the layers of masterful cooking and beautiful imagery. A movie that reminds us that cooking and food preparation, no matter how reserved or complex, is the ultimate expression of appreciation and love. Lovely, cozy viewing, but obviously not for everyone, especially those after a multifaceted narrative or complex interpersonal drama.

Really nice movie and fun to watch. However it could have ended a bit earlier. I found the last 15 a bit unnecessary. Also, although it’s moving up until the last 15 minutes, at the end (in my opinion) it makes an expected twist that for me ruined the whole “moving” part.

I really enjoyed the first 30 minutes, but after that it went into a direction I didn't like.

Literally one of the worst edited movies I have ever seen. Not just the bizarre cuts inbetween the shots but also the transitions between sequences felt random. It's like Lars von Trier's cut of an Abbas Kiarostami film. It's like a new-fashioned YouTube documentary.
Despite many long one-shots, there are still so many unnecessary cuts, breaking all the flow of motion which those one-shots intent to create. It is hard to figure out if a sequence is ended and another one begins, since there is no clue of any closure on most of the scenes. The transitions are mostly irrelevant. One exception would be the transition from the pear to the body of Eugenie, but I mean, isn't that a little bit funny, although I can sense the relationship between love and food?
Also the sound design is one of the most important aspects of the movie. It is one of the strong sides of the film, I accept, however I must say that if you listen carefully you will find out the background nature sound repeats itself. Even in the mornings, the wolfs still howl.
It is a poetic love story with nature at its center but it lacks all the harmony, pacing because of this odd editing. Technically it is subpar at best. If you like watching food videos or culinary cinema, it is a 2-hour joy for you. There is probably very few examples that cooking occupies this much place in the screen-time and also in the story. In fact, the food is the story itself for this film.

We now know the French were cooking crack when they submitted this film over Anatomy of A Fall.

This is some of the most cinematic food trapped inside a borning ass movie. At the one hour mark I felt every minute of this movie. Thankfully I was only one in the theater so I was able to pace around as this movie dragged on one course at a time. The chemistry between the two leads is palpable, but never feels like it gets anywhere past the surface. I will gladly forget this movie, just like I do with what I had for dinner most nights.