Hear me out: The Taste of Things is a film that deserves to be seen in a crowded theater. Not because it’s a hysterical comedy like Bottoms – though it certainly has plenty of witty comedic moments – and not because it’s a film about finding community like Marcel the Shell With Shoes On. Actually, it is a communal experience in the way it elicits the rawest emotions from those that are drawn into its spell.

Consider the film’s opening scene: a wistful, mostly wordless extended montage of a French pseudo-family coming together and making a meal. The film takes place in the early 20th century, before electric appliances and advanced technology made cooking easier and less involved. And the food is never not exquisite, a Thanksgiving-sized feast featuring exotic dish after exotic dish, all filmed to highlight every delicious detail. It’s the kind of film where one wishes Smell-O-Vision was a real thing. And every glamour shot elicited a primal “oooh” or “mmm” from the patrons around me throughout the film, regardless of how familiar each dish actually appeared.

But The Taste of Things is more than a glorified French Food Network show with some pretty shots of elegantly plated food – it’s a film about the very process of creating, and how sharing our creations is an act of love. Taking place mostly in one French country manor, it concerns Eugénie (Juliette Binoche) and Dodin (Benoît Magimel), a pair of chefs, along with their young apprentice Violette (Galatea Bellugi) united in their passion for cooking. The magic trick of the film, written and directed by Trần Anh Hùng, is that neither character is particularly fleshed out in the traditional sense.

And yet, it’s not a death knell in the way it would be for most films. Yes, there are scenes outside the kitchen where we get a better idea of Eugénie and Dodin’s relationship and their history together, but they’re not the focal point of the film. At the end of the aforementioned opening scene, Hùng cuts between Dodin as he’s consuming the food that Eugénie just lovingly created. Though they don’t share the same space, Hùng shows that the very act of making something for someone else’s pleasure is an intentional choice, rather than a necessity. And, crucially, Hùng does not explicitly underline this sentiment, instead letting the audience absorb its themes naturally.

Of course, it helps to have charismatic performers like Binoche and Magimel, whose chemistry is consistently electric. Whether they’re enjoying tea by moonlight or discussing an upcoming meal for a visiting prince, the pair lean on each other to make two distinct halves of a whole. When the film isn’t in cooking mode, it switches to a tender romance between Eugénie and Dodin, who very much love each other but remain unmarried nevertheless. Hùng’s use of the camera feels distinct as well, as it constantly glides through the kitchen and other scenery, rather than quick cuts that undercut the process. Jonathan Ricquebourg’s cinematography can’t go uncredited either; the warm lighting and color palette go a long way to not only make the food look enticing, but to simply make each image distinct.

The Bear tapped into the terrible burden of chefs having a dream, and The Taste of Things feels like a much cozier, more inviting rumination on the creative process. Whether it’s food, or painting, or poetry, or building a car, making something can always been seen not only as a way to express ourselves but a way to connect with other people. Through minimal story and character beats, The Taste of Things is one of the best films of the year, a film that utilizes the unspoken bonds between all of us. See it with a crowd, but do not see it on an empty stomach.

The Taste of Things was screened as a Special Presentation screening at the 2023 Heartland International Film Fest. IFC Films will release it later this year.

OSCAR POTENTIAL:

• The film was the surprise choice for Best International Feature by France, beating the Palme d’Or winner Anatomy of a Fall. I expect a nomination for it regardless, though distributor IFC has an undeniably rocky track record at Oscar campaigning, which is admittedly concerning.
• Were there any justice in the world, The Taste of Things would at least arrive on the shortlist for categories like Cinematography and Production Design, but the chances are small.