Frederick Wiseman's latest culinary documentary, "Menus-Plaisirs: Les Troisgros," presents a monumental feast for the eyes in the form of a 6,000-course tasting menu. The American cinema-verite director returns to his Francophile roots after dedicating most of his career to chronicling US institutions. This time, he delves into the Michelin triple-starred Le Bois sans Feuilles restaurant in Ouches, France, where he serves up four hours of hardcore gastronomy.
Through long, eavesdroppy tableaux, Wiseman meticulously documents every aspect of the business, from recipe brainstorming to supplier farms and clientele reactions. The film eschews narration, allowing viewers to piece together the intricacies of the restaurant's operations while following Wiseman through the kitchens and dining spaces. The director's unobtrusive approach creates a sense of intimacy, putting the viewer in the shoes of the staff and patrons.
The attention to detail is staggering, with servings beginning with briefings on diners' personal circumstances and dietary requirements. Every aspect of the meal is scrutinized, from creme brulee texture to tableware settings. Michel Troisgros, the patriarch of the Troisgros family, insists that cuisine is not cinema but real life. Wiseman disagrees, highlighting the importance of close observation in transforming ingredients into art.
The film's structure alternates between brisk fastidiousness and static shots of countryside landscapes or kitchen closeups. As the four-hour sitting comes to a close, Michel Troisgros expresses ambivalence about ceding to his son César as head chef. Wiseman seems to sympathize with this reluctance, acknowledging that there is always another new flavor to explore.
However, the film's focus on the visual aspects of the culinary experience may lead some viewers to feel a sense of frustration. While Wiseman skillfully captures the beauty of the restaurant and its preparations, the viewer is left to imagine the flavors rather than experiencing them firsthand. Nevertheless, "Menus-Plaisirs: Les Troisgros" remains a testament to Wiseman's mastery of observational filmmaking and his ability to coax elegance from even the most mundane aspects of human endeavor.
Through long, eavesdroppy tableaux, Wiseman meticulously documents every aspect of the business, from recipe brainstorming to supplier farms and clientele reactions. The film eschews narration, allowing viewers to piece together the intricacies of the restaurant's operations while following Wiseman through the kitchens and dining spaces. The director's unobtrusive approach creates a sense of intimacy, putting the viewer in the shoes of the staff and patrons.
The attention to detail is staggering, with servings beginning with briefings on diners' personal circumstances and dietary requirements. Every aspect of the meal is scrutinized, from creme brulee texture to tableware settings. Michel Troisgros, the patriarch of the Troisgros family, insists that cuisine is not cinema but real life. Wiseman disagrees, highlighting the importance of close observation in transforming ingredients into art.
The film's structure alternates between brisk fastidiousness and static shots of countryside landscapes or kitchen closeups. As the four-hour sitting comes to a close, Michel Troisgros expresses ambivalence about ceding to his son César as head chef. Wiseman seems to sympathize with this reluctance, acknowledging that there is always another new flavor to explore.
However, the film's focus on the visual aspects of the culinary experience may lead some viewers to feel a sense of frustration. While Wiseman skillfully captures the beauty of the restaurant and its preparations, the viewer is left to imagine the flavors rather than experiencing them firsthand. Nevertheless, "Menus-Plaisirs: Les Troisgros" remains a testament to Wiseman's mastery of observational filmmaking and his ability to coax elegance from even the most mundane aspects of human endeavor.