Final Journal

Entering this course, I was excited to tackle the study of foreign films - to learn about the identities and traditions of cultures to which I was unfamiliar through the universal language of food. I think this class partially met my expectations. There were some great films, but most of the movies we watched celebrated either American or European multiculturalism. Which isn’t to say I didn’t find knowledge or wisdom within these movies, but if I would’ve loved to see more movies from perspectives I had never experienced. With that in mind, my favorite two films of the semester were Eat, Drink, Man, and Woman, and Como Agua Para Chocolate. Both films exposed me to cultural ideas and values I had never experienced through any other medium. Como Agua Para Cho was especially fascinating as it exposed me to an entire art movement I knew nothing about - magical realism.
The other film I loved (and I’m bummed the rest of the class didn’t get to see it) was The Cook, The Thief, The Wife, and Her Lover. A parable for the bourgeoisie and the digestive system - this film is so visually stunning, and so freaking bizarre, that it simply begs to be picked at and deciphered. It’s the only film we watched this semester that I can call a masterpiece, as it’s the only one (save for Soylent Green) where food was portrayed as something disgusting, where meals were not indicative of typical themes (love, community, family, romance, etc) but gross power imbalances and weapons of violence, torture, and death.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Like many who grew up in this commercial tsunami of cooking shows and chef competitions, cooking for me was a sport before it was a passion - but it was always an obsession. Before I learned to chop an onion, I was fantasizing about the perfect tasting menu - exploring ideas for sauces and meats and bizarre gastronomic techniques of which I hadn’t the first inkling how to make. I spent my days fetishizing the idea of cooking rather than paying any heed to the skill that goes into it. On my twelfth birthday, (in a last ditch effort to get me interested in cooking - or at least to shut me up about my gourmet infantilizations) my parents bought me an ice cream maker. And so ice cream became my new, far more tangible obsession. For the next year, I would perfect the simple art of whisking egg yolks into sugar and hot - but not too hot - cream. I would make over two dozen batches of ice cream, each concoction wilder than the last; mint, vanilla, coconut, ginger, cardamom, basil, almond...
Read more
Image
As the enigmatic narrator says in Como Agua Para Chocolate , “Just as a poet plays with words, Tita juggled ingredients.” For Tita, cooking is more than a means to an end. Cooking is an artform. And in Tita’s pitiable life as a mere servant to her oppressive mother, cooking is her one and only means of expressing her emotions.  The film is very literal in how it portrays Tita’s cooking as a channel for her interiority. When Tita is heartbroken over her Roasura’s marriage Pedro and cries into the wedding cake batter, the guests have an immediate and visceral reaction wherein they all start crying and throwing up. When Tita concocts the “Quail in Rose Petal Sauce” dish out of sheer passion and desire for Pedro, her eldest sister Gertrudis is overtaken with sexual desire and, after the heat from her body literally catches the showerhouse on fire, flees from the ranch naked on horseback. At the wedding between Alex and Esperanza, Tita’s “Chiles en Nogada” is crafted with...
Read more