Cordon bleu is the warmest color in Tràn Anh Hùng’s long but surprisingly light soufflé of a movie The Pot-au-Feu (renamed The Taste of Things ahead of its U.S. release), a highly watchable Aga saga that’s so artful, charming and non-boat-rockingly old-school that it might make you wonder, even in a non-ironic way, what Lasse Hallström has been up to lately. In Cannes Film Festivals gone by, it could arguably have provoked the bidding war of the fortnight, given the track record of such foodie faves as Le Grand Bouffe, Babette’s Feast and Eat Drink Man Woman, which also debuted on the Croisette. But that’s faint praise for a story that, although it’s almost all about fillings, trimmings and toppings, doesn’t seem to have that much content or, more importantly, depth.
Set in late-19th century France, The Pot Au Feu is loosely based on Marcel Rouffe’s 1924 novel The Passionate Epicure, depicting scenes from the life of the fictional bon viveur Dodin Bouffant. In Hùng’s film, Bouffant is played by the excellent Benoît Magimel as a gastronome without equal; living with his personal cook/lover Eugénie (Juliette Binoche), he seems to do little other than organize weekend feasts for his salivating circle of friends. Indeed, the first half hour alone is the preparation and serving of a several-course meal that sends Bouffant’s gushing adherents backstage, as it were, to give their compliments to the chef in person. Why don’t you dine with us, they ask? “I converse with you in the dining room through what you eat,” Eugénie says, in that coquettishly familiar Binoche way.
If that makes sense, then this film will be right up your Michelin-starred boulevard, since almost everything here is conveyed through food-based allegories and metaphors, to the extent that you might even start to worry about all the characters. Do they ever talk about anything else? And what do these people actually do? Do they have jobs, families, and who’s actually paying for the ridiculous amount of dead livestock and dusty 50-year-old bottles of rare wine that’s been piling up in Dodin’s kitchen?
There’s plenty of time to ponder this as Bouffant and Eugénie perform their chaste, middle-aged courtship, which, it has to be said, is about as elegant as a bohemian coupling can possibly be, recalling the seemingly formal but ragingly emotional push-pull dynamic between the famous American wits Dorothy Parker and Robert Benchley in the 1920s. Bouffant is willing, Eugénie less so, and he respects that unwillingness. “Marriage is a dinner that begins with dessert,” says Bouffant, wittily.
Into the gap between them comes Pauline, the young niece of their housekeeper Violette, a precocious talent who not only picks up on their almost telepathic wavelength but impresses them with her palate. Eugénie is thrilled, but Bouffant is not: “One cannot be a gourmet before 40,” he insists, dourly.
The plot, such as it is, clarifies rather than thickens. Bouffant’s reputation as “The Napoleon of culinary arts” attracts the interest of the prince of Eurasia, who invites him and his crew to a lavish meal. “The prince’s generosity turned into an ordeal,” says one of Bouffant’s acolytes, noting afterwards that it took a whole day and night. Bouffant, though, is not about to drawn into a reckless feast-off and proposes to counter the prince’s marathon with a humble dish, the pot-au-feu, that has served the French for decades if not centuries. There will be, of course, an obstacle in Bouffant’s way, one that is telegraphed by Eugénie’s increasingly poor health and her propensity for fainting fits. The fact that Bouffant’s guests, who seem to include qualified medics, know more about poaching, braising, blanching and sautéing than human health problems, doesn’t exactly inspire confidence in this respect.
But despite the obviousness of its storyline, and the admirably one-note nature of the telling of it (there’s really not much in the way of subtext here), The Pot-Au-Feu somehow succeeds as a celebration of the senses. The beautifully handled treatment of cookery as both poetry and performance art is most affecting, and it easily overshadows the dangerously high-cholesterol love story that it seeks to portray.
Title: The Pot-Au-Feu (The Taste of Things)Section: Cannes (Competition)Director-screenwriter: Tràn Anh HùngCast: Benoît Magimel, Juliette BinocheRunning time: 2 hr 14 minSales agent: Gaumont
