Tran Ahn Hung‘s The Taste of Things (aka The Pot au Feu) has been near the top of my best-of-2023 list since I first saw it in Cannes last May. (Here’s my 5.24.23 review.) Pretty much everyone with a semblance of taste in film and/or food adores it. It’s not just endearing but a form of religious rapture by way of a series of loving, nurturing food orgasms. But it’s more than just a fine foodie flick.
The Taste of Things has been in theatres for a week now (since February 9th), and to my shock and surprise I discovered this morning that there’s a sizable neghead consensus among Rotten Tomatoes ticket buyers. These people are animals — there’s really no other way to put it. Barbarians. Indications of a coarse and slovenly culture.
I’m sorry but you’re simply not allowed to dislike this all-but-perfect film. It’s not “slow” but meditative…quietly humming with spiritual joy. I’m truly disgusted by the people who’ve thumbs-downed it. Pigs in the trough.
