Adapting a 1924 novel called The Passion of Dodin Bouffant and undergoing its European festival run known as The Pot-au-Feu, the latest entry from Vietnamese-French director Tran Anh Hung arrives on UK shores with the rather claggy title of The Taste of Things. Thankfully, this name-based misstep is the only thing that is unappetising about this film, which is otherwise a feast of delicious-looking food, luscious candlelit French Belle Epoque interiors, and gentle dramedy. A slow tour through the kitchen and house of a great gourmand in 1895, this is a rich meal that goes on a little too long, but ends on such a fittingly sweet note that it’s hard to begrudge it.
Personally, my favourite course at any great dinner is generally the starter, and so it is here, as Hung introduces us to Dodin Bouffant (Benoit Magimel) through a 15-or-so minute sequence as he, alongside his personal cook (and lover) Eugenie (Juliette Binoche) and their kitchen girl Violette (Galatea Bellugi) prepare an exquisite multi-course meal. Every dish, every ingredient, looks mouthwateringly delicious; you can practically taste and smell them through the screen, while the deeply satisfying sound design immerses you in the actual cooking process.
It’s when it focuses on the food that The Taste of Things is at its finest, Hung achieving a sensory envelopment that, in a rare achievement, makes for a film both well-suited to the big screen and to be fallen asleep in front of at home, sinking into its rich world and dreaming of French haute cuisine. With the pace as glacial as it is, though, the non-culinary moments are less engaging – Dodin and Eugenie’s romance always feels like it’s at a one step remove from becoming truly moving, and the 135 minute runtime absolutely feels over-indulgent by the end.
Hung does mostly manage to stave off actual boredom, largely by filling his world with a lovely ensemble of supporting characters, from a prodigious young cook that Eugenie hires as a protégé to Dodin’s slightly less upper crust (as in, they actually have jobs) friends, with whom he shares his and Eugenie’s cooking. It’s a pleasure to be in their company, gently hammering home the point that good food is not just flavour, but everything that brings joy about it, from the place in which we eat it to the people we eat it with.
It’s a simple and earnest philosophy that informs all of The Taste of Things’s most memorable moments, a sun-kissed ode to material pleasures and meaningful relationships. Though it might not always compel, and some of the last act might have you checking the time like you’re waiting for a delayed main course, at its best this is a profoundly luxurious experience, with some of the best-plated and tastiest-looking food ever committed to camera.
Jack Blackwell – Film Reviews 