Our
Whines Have Tender Grapes
About the last thing
on filmmaker Jonathan Nossiter's agenda was making a film about
wine. The prospect of watching groups of people thrusting their noses
into a glass to sniff a bouquet turned his stomach and there wasn't
much about the industry or the cultivation of a new vintage that seemed
worthy of more than dinner table palaver.
Nossiter is probably
best known for Sunday, a dark and ironic drama about an encounter
between two people in a park that won the top award at Sundance in 1997.
However, he'd also earned a degree as a sommelier and worked for several
years at top Manhattan restaurants selecting their wine carte and stocking
the cellars.
Objectively he knew
about the pleasure, art and business of wine just as he'd developed
a keen appreciation for the same elements in the film industry. But
having left the world of restaurants and fermented grapes professionally,
he preferred to savor a choice bottle at his leisure rather than fit
it into a production schedule.
"It's a total
accident this film happened at all," says Nossiter of his acclaimed
documentary Mondovino, "let alone evolve into its present
state."
As he relates, what
spurred him forward was the idea of a short film about the relationship
between fathers and sons working together. He could find no better example
of an industry predicated on bloodlines than the world of wine. There
was something very compelling about families and their emotional ties
to each other, the land and the world at large.
It was conceived
as a vignette. Nossiter was in the throes of developing a feature project
and this "small idea" seemed like an easy bridge and diversion.
He felt it could be filmed over the course of a couple of months and,
if he worked diligently, could easily be taken from conception to completion
in six to eight months.
Three and a half
years later it debuted at the Cannes Film Festival last May and following
theatrical distribution in Europe and additional festival exposure,
it arrives in American movie theaters next month.
"Basically
there is no difference between making a fiction feature and a documentary,"
contends Nossiter. "Or, at least, I choose not to make a distinction.
It's the same process of developing an idea, scouting locations, casting,
crewing. And as different things fall in place, it evolves. You make
changes that are hopefully appropriate."
The core idea that
spurred his interest in Mondovino is still very much in evidence.
The wine families he ultimately talked to in Europe and America range
in significance and volume but invariably they embrace multi-generational
families with imposing fathers, sons, daughters, relatives and in-laws.
Some companies are dynastic; others have become corporations rooted
and often fronted by the clans that nurtured the vines that have a special
place on tables that cross all classes, cultures and penetrate into
every corner of the globe.
However, as he prepared
to film other issues began to take center stage. On a casting trip to
Burgundy he encountered local resistance to a planned takeover of a
winery by an American conglomerate. The populace of a small village
effectively blocked the sale, citing fears that the integrity of the
potable would be compromised beyond recognition.
"Every wine
is an expression of the place where it's grown," notes Nossiter.
"It's both agri and high culture. But the bad things happening
in that arena are the bad things that are happening in all major industries
including film. In the process of developing a product that's meant
to be appreciated everywhere, part or most of its identity is being
destroyed. That situation should be making people very angry."
It was the specificity
and universality of what he saw from Bordeaux to Napa Valley that "hijacked"
the filmmaker and his snap shot grew and grew to panoramic dimensions.
Nossiter says he was not unaware of the mass commercialization of wine
but its extent was far greater and more insidious than he realized.
As he proceeded, he characterized his role as that of a private detective
collecting bits and pieces until finally the bigger picture emerged.
Though he doesn't
point a finger at individuals and label them "heroes" or "criminals,"
he's the first to admit he has biases and they are evident in virtually
every frame of Mondovino. Certainly high on his list of felonies
are individuals and organizations that hold sway on influencing taste
whether they serve as technical advisors to wineries or are among the
elite cadre who writes on the subject in specialized publications.
"There's no
question that there's been enormous growth and encouragement of globalization
in the past 20 years. I don't see any evidence that it's improved any
product or service. But it engulfs everything and creates a situation
where the smaller companies become the resistance fighters in what's
evolved as a pitched battle."
Earlier this week
he was in San Francisco for a film preview and discussion that touched
off a small firestorm. The proximity to Napa brought out a wine country
contingent that took exception to the depiction of the Mondavi family
who popularized wine in America but lost control of the company it created
as it grew into an international concern. Nossiter shot back at all
criticism including the way he filmed Robert Mondavi and his
two sons.
"In every instance,
I allowed the subjects to choose how and where they wanted to be filmed
and just how much access they wanted to provide," says Nossiter.
"The Mondavis had very specific ideas on how they wanted to be
shot and they dictated what could be discussed. I didn't put words in
their mouths and there's not a single line of narration in the film
to color what you're seeing."
He says that wine
consultant Michel Rolland also voiced objections to his portrayal
in the film. Nossiter had to remind him that he dictated the terms of
where and when he could be filmed. He never asked to be thrust into
the back of a limousine nor did he direct Rolland to let out a victory
laugh when he concluded a lucrative deal.
In essence he sees
the film as a study about something essential being at risk and it's
not simply whether the wine being served is woody or fruity. Without
resorting to bombast, Nossiter sees the world of wine as a microcosm
for all things and where it goes is reflective of how the globe turns.
It's a bellwether.
Predictability is
the bane of the new Millennium according to the filmmaker and it creates
a palpable hunger for the unconventional and genuine. He points to the
current popularity of non-fiction films as a testament to that observation.
They are much more real and emotional then the product being churned
out by the majors.
"What I wanted
to do was make something serious and dramatic. The subject, or backdrop,
is one thing but it's meant to be a film that's directed for non-wine
people."
Nothing
Rhymes With
About a month back
I wrote about the documentary Inside Deep Throat and my oblique
relationship with the world of pornography.
One element that
got short changed in the discussion was the relative lack of eroticism
present during the heyday of the skin flick back in the 1970s. The films
were unquestionably titillating and often clever in the way they employed
humor to get around salacious content. But they were almost never subtle
or evocative.
The exception that
stood out at the time was a three minute short titled Orange
that toured as part of the Best of the New York Erotic Film Festival.
I saw the compilation twice just to be certain of the tang of Orange
and without giving too much away it's a series of close-ups of surprising
intimacy. The filmmaker evokes a sense of danger as he invades the privacy
of his subject. The intensity of the piece could not have possibly been
sustained a second longer but oh those 180 or so seconds leading up
to the fade out.
I've never subsequently
seen the short on its own or as part of a compilation but its images
have stuck with me over three decades. I'd love to know who made it
and whether he/she went on to do other films. And if anyone knows if
it's available on DVD, drop me a note. It would be a valued addition
to anyone's collection.
-
by Leonard Klady