The Bittersweet Taste of “Burgundy”

Michael Dweck and Gregory Kershaw’s latest documentary, “Burgundy”, is a beautifully shot but uneven film. As a duo known for their meticulous craftsmanship, it’s surprising to see them veer so far from the mark with this latest effort.

The decision to focus on Burgundy, a picturesque winemaking region, may have been driven by aesthetics rather than substance. The film’s visuals are stunning, with cinematography that is both breathtaking and meticulous. However, beneath the surface, “Burgundy” feels like a rambling reverie about wine culture rather than an incisive portrait of it.

The cast of characters is likable enough, from Bertrand Devillard, the patriarch of a winemaking estate, to Enzo, the young man with a passion for viticulture. However, as the film meanders through its narrative, one can’t help but feel that the directors are prioritizing style over substance.

The deliberately stilted restaging of interactions and the use of 8mm footage feel like attempts to create a sense of nostalgia rather than a genuine portrayal of life in Burgundy. The tone is rarely serious enough to warrant attention, and when it tries to introduce a lighthearted note with Enzo and Céleste’s budding romance, it feels forced.

The narrative veers wildly from the main focus on wine culture to an unconvincing love story that detracts from the subject matter. It’s hard not to compare “Burgundy” unfavorably to Dweck and Kershaw’s previous films, such as “The Truffle Hunters”, which had a natural source of charm and warmth.

Without it, “Burgundy” feels like a shallow imitation, relying on gimmicks rather than genuine storytelling. This raises questions about the limitations of documentary filmmaking: when messy real life intrudes, can a constructed style be effective in capturing its essence? The answer seems to be no, at least not when trying to create a film that’s both visually stunning and narratively satisfying.

“Burgundy” may have a certain je ne sais quoi, but it ultimately falls short of being a truly great documentary. The wine world is already an elitist sphere, and “Burgundy” does little to challenge its mythology. True wine experts may find themselves enamored with the film’s ode to the various disciplines within the wine arts, but for those looking for something more substantial, it’s a disappointment.

In the end, “Burgundy” is a bittersweet taste of what could have been. With its flawed narrative and prioritization of style over substance, it loses its complexity long before the last sip.