The Art of Savoring Life: Why 'Burgundy' Might Be More Than Just a Wine Documentary
There’s something about documentaries that immerse you in a world so specific, so ritualistic, that they transcend their subject matter. Burgundy, the latest film from the team behind The Truffle Hunters, seems poised to do just that. But let’s be clear: this isn’t just a film about wine. Personally, I think what makes this particularly fascinating is how it uses the lens of winemaking to explore something far more universal—the tension between tradition and transformation, between pleasure and discipline.
A World Where Pleasure Is a Discipline
One thing that immediately stands out is the directors’ approach. Michael Dweck and Gregory Kershaw don’t just observe; they inhabit. Their statement about “looking for people still tethered to their dirt” is more than a poetic turn of phrase. It’s a philosophy. In my opinion, this is where the film’s magic lies. They’re not making a documentary; they’re crafting a portrait of a community where the past isn’t just history—it’s alive, breathing, and poured into every glass.
What many people don’t realize is how deeply ritualistic winemaking is. It’s not just about grapes and barrels; it’s about legacy, inheritance, and the weight of generations. The film’s synopsis hints at this—an aristocratic winemaker defining his legacy, a sommelière honing her craft, a vineyard worker yearning to belong. If you take a step back and think about it, these are archetypes we all recognize, regardless of whether we’ve ever set foot in Bourgogne.
The Intoxicating Blur Between Reality and Invention
Here’s where the film gets really interesting. Dweck and Kershaw admit to “dreaming stories onto the lives” they followed. This raises a deeper question: how much of what we see is real, and how much is imagined? In my view, this blurring of lines isn’t a flaw—it’s a feature. Life itself is often a mix of the observed and the invented, especially when we’re talking about communities built on tradition.
A detail that I find especially interesting is the film’s promise to let us “luxuriate” and “lose the afternoon.” This isn’t just marketing speak; it’s a challenge. In a world where we’re constantly rushing, the idea of slowing down to savor something—whether it’s wine or life itself—feels almost radical. What this really suggests is that Burgundy isn’t just a film to watch; it’s an experience to indulge in.
Beyond the Vineyards: A Broader Cultural Reflection
From my perspective, Burgundy is tapping into something much larger than its 90-minute runtime. It’s part of a growing trend in documentary filmmaking that prioritizes immersion over exposition. Think about The Truffle Hunters or even Luca Guadagnino’s Joie de Vivre—these films aren’t just about their subjects; they’re about the rhythms of life, the weight of history, and the beauty of impermanence.
What makes Burgundy stand out, though, is its focus on pleasure as a discipline. We often think of pleasure as something frivolous, but the film challenges that notion. These winemakers aren’t just indulging; they’re practicing an art form. Personally, I think this is a lesson we could all take to heart. In a culture that often equates productivity with worth, Burgundy reminds us that savoring life is not just a hobby—it’s a necessity.
A Toast to the Future
As Burgundy premieres at the Venice Film Festival, it’s hard not to speculate about its impact. Will it resonate beyond wine enthusiasts? I believe so. Its themes are too universal, its storytelling too immersive, to be confined to a niche audience. What this film really invites us to do is reflect on our own lives—our rituals, our legacies, our desires.
In the end, Burgundy isn’t just a documentary about wine. It’s a meditation on what it means to live a life worth savoring. And in a world that often feels rushed and chaotic, that’s a message worth raising a glass to.
