3 hours ago
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American cinema-verite demigod Frederick Wiseman’s latest is a 6,000-course tasting menu of a documentary, like one of those supercuts with all the delicious food on offer in Studio Ghibli films. Most of the 95-year-old’s career has been dedicated to chronicling US institutions, but here he returns to the strain of Francophile work he has dipped into since the mid-90s (he lives in the country part-time). In this case, he infiltrates the Michelin triple-starred Le Bois sans Feuilles restaurant in Ouches in the Loire, and serves up four hours of hardcore gastronomy.
In long, eavesdroppy tableaux, Wiseman inventories every aspect of the business: recipe-brainstorming, market-stall recon, table-setting, meal preparation, supplier farms, clientele mouthgasms. This prandial haven is part of the Maison Troisgros business that has been run by the same family in nearby Roanne for four generations; Michel Troisgros is the current patriarch, but his son César is now head chef. Wiseman, eschewing narration as is his wont, lets us figure all this out while he follows his nose through the kitchens and dining spaces.
There is no drama here; no Gordon Ramsay tantrums, no Anton Ego-type food critics keeping everyone on their toes. Just monastic absorption in pure process in a workspace that the Troisgros keep studiously calm, all the better to create. The attention to detail is astonishing: servings begin with briefings on the personal circumstances and dietary particularities of the diners at each table. One discussion homes in on the implications of lighting and air movements for the texture of their creme brulee.
At one point, Michel Troisgros insists that cuisine is not cinema, but real life. But Wiseman continually spotlights the importance of close observation in ingredients, taste, preparation and presentation that enables the elevation of the material world into art; from creme brulee forensics, to the staff finicking with the tableware until the setting is just-so. Adhering to the same principle, the director sets up shop with brisk fastidiousness, alternating the conversations with flushes of static countryside shots, or kitchen closeups.
Ending the four-hour sitting with Michel ambivalent about ceding to the next generation, Wiseman seems to sympathise with a reluctance to let go. There is always another new flavour for the chef to try, another beautiful framing for the director to make – though possibly the film’s remit is over-extended once Wiseman starts drifting into the Troisgros’ adjacent hotel business. But the main frustration is that the only bite we get of the many marvels concocted here is with the eye.
