Back in 1980, at the New York Film Festival premiere of “My Dinner With Andre,” I asked director Louis Malle why the film’s two actors, Andre Gregory and Wally Shawn — who were shown throughout in avid dinner conversation at a Manhattan restaurant — were so rarely seen eating anything. With spiky sarcasm, Malle replied, “Because my mother always told me never to talk with your mouth full.” Would Malle’s minimalist strategy hold true today? In a new version of “My Dinner With Andre,” we might be likely to watch more food being served, wine being sloshed, pepper being ground. We’d see closeups of the servings on Andre’s and Wally’s plates. We’d watch them repeatedly spearing food and chewing. We’d get a real sense of the meal. (Indeed, in writer-director Tom Noonan’s new film “The Wife,” Shawn shares another meal with three fellow actors and we see everything.)
Is 1997 different from 1980? In a way. Nowadays we’re more accustomed to the aesthetics — and even erotics — of food displayed in movies. In any number of hugely popular recent arthouse films — including “Like Water for Chocolate,” “Eat Drink Man Woman” and last year’s sleeper hit “Big Night” — fine cuisine, its painstaking preparation and its scrumptious consumption take center stage.
Since 1981, film audiences have seemed increasingly wary of art films — especially if they’re subtitled. But their inhibitions seem to vanish if food is the subject. In “Babette’s Feast,” we watch every course of a nonpareil French banquet lovingly and expertly prepared. In “Eat Drink Man Woman,” we’re taken into the kitchen of a master Taiwanese chef. And in “Like Water for Chocolate,” we’re given the secrets behind the arousing cuisine of early 20th Century Mexico.
Then there’s “Big Night.” This little film, independently made by actor-director-writer Stanley Tucci and actor and co-director Campbell Scott, lacks a superstar cast or a famous literary property. Yet it seems to engage viewers on some deep, heart-satisfying level. Is it the acting? The writing? Well, yes. Sure. But one of the main attractions is the movie’s subject: gourmet Italian food and how it’s prepared.
As “Big Night’s” Pilaggi brothers (played by Tucci and Tony Shalhoub) dice, chop, mold and labor over their creations — risottos, capons, crostini with goat cheese and mouth-watering sausage- and vegetable-filled timpano — the movie enters the recent cuisine-cinema pantheon.
What beguiles audiences about these movies? Perhaps the suggestion of gastronomic joys to come. Perhaps the communal ritual of dining, which enables a master filmmaker to bring together fascinating cross-sections of people and watch them interact.
But perhaps it’s simply because the food today looks so good on screen — especially in these days of crisper, more lustrous color cinematography. In older black-and-white imports, like Marcel Pagnol’s 1939 classic “The Baker’s Wife” — about a cuckolded Provence baker who precipitates a town crisis when he refuses to bake until his runaway wife returns — the cameras lingered not on the food but on the people. But in the newer films, the reverse is sometimes true. We see lip-smacking buffets, spectacular smorgasbords, sensuous desserts, plates heaped high with exotic eats of all varieties.
I’m of a mixed mind about it. Food is no passion of mine — especially since weight gain is a real occupational hazard among movie critics. (We all seem to consume and sit too much and exercise too little.)
But maybe that’s another of the charms of haute-cuisine cinema. Like classy pornography, it’s an imaginative way of indulging the appetite without running the risks. In these movies, we participate in a banquet of the senses — meticulously prepared, beautifully photographed and triumphantly enjoyed — and not worry about consequences. Or exercise.
SELECT MENU OF THE TASTIEST FOOD FILMS
“Tom Jones” (1963) The modern obsession with sexy movie-food scenes begins with Tony Richardson’s Oscar-winning film of the Henry Fielding classic, as Albert Finney’s Tom and Joyce Redman’s Mrs. Waters scarf down a dinner while devouring each other with their eyes.
“Frenzy” (1971) Suspense gourmet Alfred Hitchcock’s last great murder thriller is set near the Covent Gardens vegetable stalls (the killer is a fruiterer) and filled with dark cookery jokes (the detective’s wife is a failed amateur chef). The food humor bizarrely underscores the scary, serial murder plot.
“The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie” (1972) Spain’s wicked surrealist Luis Bunuel was wonderful with food scenes: the meat nightmare in “Los Olvidados,” the peasant’s banquet in “Viridiana,” and this fantasia of a string of bourgeois dinner parties where guests are constantly interrupted or awaking from dreams.
“La Grande Bouffe” (1973) In the most savage of food movies, Marco Ferreri’s four jaded sensualists (Marcello Mastroianni, Ugo Tognazzi, Michel Piccoli and Philippe Noiret) eat themselves to death.
“Tampopo” (1986) Juzo Itami’s satiric “ramen western”: A lightning-fast noodleslinger rides into town and saves a failing cafe.
“Babette’s Feast” (1987)In some ways, this surprise Oscar winner by Denmark’s Gabriel Axel is the best cinematic banquet of them all. Based on Isak Dinesen’s ironic tale of an exiled French cook (Stephane Audran) and her last great feast in a barren coastal village, “Babette’s Feast,” more than any other film, set the trend for food movies.
“Long Live the Lady!” (1987) Ermanno Olmi’s neglected gem: a ghastly upper-class banquet in an Italian medieval castle, as seen by six naive young catering school graduates waiting the tables.
“The Cook, the Thief, His Wife and Her Lover” (1989). In a posh restaurant, as the camera tracks magisterially through kitchen and dining room, four characters enact a Jacobean tale of infidelity, murder and revenge — between gourmet dinner courses. Peter Greenaway’s brutal satire goes further and is bloodier than films by either Bunuel or Ferreri.
“Life Is Sweet” (1991) Mike Leigh’s delicious comedy about a hobbled chef, his kitchen queen wife, their bulimic daughter and England’s most terrible gourmet restaurant, run by fat and fatuous neighbor Timothy Spall.
“Like Water for Chocolate” (1992) Alfonso Arau’s huge art-house hit, based on screenwriter-wife Laura Esquivel’s novel and cookbook, is a magical, realistic family epic and also an ode to the aphrodisiac powers of food.
“Eat Drink Man Woman” (1994) Like his 1993 “The Wedding Banquet,” this witty Ang Lee piece, set in Taiwan, reveals character through cooking and dining — but with even more lipsmacking wok shots.
“Au Petit Marguery” (1995) It hasn’t been released yet, but the time for this French culinary gem by Laurent Benegui appears to be now. It’s about the final night of a well-loved restaurant, attended by the host family and all their regular customers. And it’s just as good, in some ways, as “Big Night.”
Joan Tucci’s recipe for risotto plays a supporting role in son Stanley’s film, “Big Night.”
RISOTTO WITH SHRIMP (RISOTTO CON GAMBERETTI)
Preparation time: 40 minutes.
Yield: 4 servings.
Cooking time: 55 minutes.
1 pound medium shell-on shrimp, peeled, deveined, shells reserved
1 each, chopped: medium carrot, rib celery
2 onions, chopped
4 tablespoons olive oil
Parsley, salt, freshly ground pepper to taste
5 cups water
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 cup arborio rice
1 small tomato, chopped
1/2 cup dry white wine
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese, optional
1. Place shrimp shells in large saucepan. Add carrot, celery, half of the chopped onions, parsley, salt and pepper to taste. Add water. Simmer gently 20 to 25 minutes. Strain broth. Discard shells and vegetables and reserve broth.
2. Heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in large skillet over medium. Cook 1 clove of garlic until fragrant; add shrimp and salt and pepper to taste; cook just until shrimp is pink, about 4 minutes. Set aside; shrimp may be cut in half.
3. Combine remaining 2 tablespoons oil and butter in large pot (or same skillet, if it’s large enough) over medium heat. Cook remaining onion and garlic until wilted but not brown. Add rice. Stir to coat, adding a cup of reserved shrimp broth. Cook, stirring frequently, until rice has absorbed liquid.
4. Add diced tomato and wine. Continue stirring, adding broth 1 cup at a time, until rice is creamy and tender but al dente, about 18 minutes. Add shrimp; cook about 5 minutes, adding more broth if necessary. Stir in cheese, if using, just before serving. Serve immediately.
This recipe originally appeared in the Tribune’s Good Eating section on Sept. 25, 1996.
