Mondovino 20 years on
The much-lauded wine documentary was released in 2004. How does it hold up today?
Mondovino, Jonathan Nossiter’s documentary about wine and globalisation, celebrates its 20th anniversary this year. Oddly, despite it being a familiar reference point for wine writers, I had never actually watched it until this week when I thought that the time had finally come. This meant ordering a DVD off Amazon because it’s not available on any of the big streaming platforms.
For those who don’t know it, the crux of the story is how Robert Mondavi, the biggest name in Napa Valley, was rebuffed by the French when he tried to make a wine in the Languedoc. Leading the opposition were the unlikely duo of Manuel Diaz, the communist mayor of Aniane, and Aime Guibert, glove magnate turned vigneron at Mas de Daumas Gassac, one of France’s greatest estates.
The previous mayor had been amenable to bringing in what would have been a considerable coup for what is a relatively impoverished and unsung part of France but he was unseated by the campaign against Mondavi. Eventually the Mondavi family realised they were on a hiding to nothing and pulled out.
Nossiter’s film uses l’affair Mondavi to look at the schism in the wine world between the internationalists on one hand and the terroirists on the other. It’s sort of America versus France though the protagonists don’t fit into such neat camps. On the international side there’s Mondavi, world’s greatest wine critic Robert Parker, and top consultant Michel Rolland. Facing them there’s Aime Guibert, Hubert de Montille from Burgundy, nasally New York wine consultant Neal Rosenthal, Michael Broadbent from Christie’s, and various picturesque Italian farmers.
The terroirists charge the internationalists with making all wines taste the same to appeal to the palate of Robert Parker, think super ripe fruit, lots of oak who was at the time was in his pomp. A good score from Parker meant guaranteed sales. To achieve these wines, many, especially in Bordeaux, enlisted the help of Michael Rolland, wine consultant extraordinaire. “Making Pomerol on the Medoc” as Michael Broadbent put it. The terroirists do have a point but much of their complaints seem to come down to snobbery or just a matter of taste; you like austere wines, I like big wines. One person suggested that Guibert just didn’t want the competition, he was “jealous” of Mondavi. At another point there is the suggestion that Mondavi didn’t butter up Guibert sufficiently. The whole affair may have just been a failure of diplomacy rather than a great clash of world views.
Mondovino does not make easy viewing. It’s shot, very badly, using a camcorder. Much of it is like seeing an old wedding video. For no apparent reason Nossiter will suddenly zoom in on somebody’s nose. It’s also much too long, making its point very early in the film and then meandering around making the same point again and again.
And yet I would suggest you watch it because he does capture the vanity and pomposity of the main protagonists. There's Parker and Rolland referring to themselves in the third person. Rolland has the air of a capricious emperor always laughing at his own bon mots with his French peppered with Anglicisms like ‘flying winemakers’ and ‘micro-oxygenation’. The other side doesn't come out of it much better. At one point Hubert de Montille humiliates his son and heir Etienne in front of the cameras and makes it very clear that he much prefers his daughter Alix.
One of the strengths of the film is how astonishingly unguarded everyone is. James Suckling, Parker’s mini me, speaks approvingly of Berlusconi. But that’s nothing compared with various members of the Antinori family who seem very fond of Mussolini: “Fascism meant order in Italy…The trains ran on time,” one elderly man said. One of the younger family members explained that “Mussolini did some great things.” I kept expecting someone to walk in at any moment and say: “I mentioned Mussolini but I think I got away with it”. Not to be out done, one Argentine winemaker tells us how lazy the indigenous people are. Nossister then cut to a hardworking indigenous winemaker with a dog called Luther King, “because he’s black,” the man explains. Of course!
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