code-words
I spent the Easter weekend in New York. My parents had gone on a cruise that was docking in Manhattan, thereby creating a critical mass of filial matter that had inexorably dragged me into its orbit. Weekends with parents usually revolve around two activities: eating and watching movies. All of the real conversation happens at table. Dealing with knotty subjects is easier when you can buy time by feigning chewing. The movies are just excuses to hang around each other until we get hungry again.
This weekend's movie was Mondovino, a documentary on the globalization of wine production. It's really the sort of film that could've only been released on the coattails of Sideways, but it's not quite as fluffy as one might expect. The main contention is between the Mondavi Winery, a Napa powerhouse that is essentially the Microsoft of the wine world, and a cranky array of independent winemakers in France and Tuscany who decry the industry's trend towards homogenization. For the independents, it's all about terroir which is supposed to be that magical combination of earth, air and light that gives grapes a flavor that is indelibly linked to its land. There's a moment in the film where Neal Rosenthal, the most well-known wine importer on the East Coast, is driving through the Brooklyn neighborhood where he grew up, and he's awash with nostalgia. He sees a bunch of old-time Hassidics walking by and he totally freaks out, saying "This, man, is the real Brooklyn. This is fucking terroir right here."
Which basically tells you that terroir is wine-speak for "keeping it real."
... and, yeah, I was kind of amused by a wine snob who swears like a construction worker. You could say that he's exhibiting the characteristics of his terroir.
The reason, supposedly, why terroir is being abandoned is Robert Parker, America's premier wine critic, who can basically make or break a wine by giving it an 89 instead of a 91. Parker's influence is so massive that he's inadvertently spawned a cottage industry of consultants who advise winemakers around the world how to make a wine that caters to Parker's tastes -- all oak, robust colors and the subtletly of a howitzer. It's like what would happen if all of a sudden everyone had to respect Roger Ebert's film reviews, and studios had to hire directors to make various iterations of Valley of the Dolls.
As you might expect, though, there's a lot of finger-pointing in this film. The European traditionalists point at the sketchy cutthroat practices of the Mondavis, and allude to a vast conspiracy between them and American wine critics. The Napa wineries contend that the French are just elitist snobs who can't deal with real competition. The importers bemoan an ignorant market who just want someone like Robert Parker to hold their hands in the big scary wine store.
The story isn't particularly unique in the global economy. Substitute in Starbucks and poor Colombian plantation workers, and you'd essentially have the same story with coffee. Lush, ancient Sardinian vineyards are far more telegenic than a plantation barrio, of course. Snide BoBo remarks, aside, what seems so depressingly common, is the frequency with which you'd find this scenario, this tendency towards monopolization, playing out in various industries. Consumers don't develop their own tastes, they just follow trends, and the trends push a few specific products, which discourages diversity and innovation. Inspiration gives way to follow-the-leader. Of course, one can argue that this is supposed to be A Good Thingtm (heh) -- that the success of the Mondavis is a sign that the market has determined who makes the best wine and is a success for entrepreneurship and the democratization of industry. That sort of argument misses the point though, and that the purpose of a diverse, entrepreneurial market is not to create an economic elimination tournament that determines a single winner. Rather, it's the dynamic of actual competition, rather than domination, that sparks innovation and encourages everyone to become a better producer.
There are a few interesting moments in the film, when they're interviewing some of the larger, more corporate French winemakers and you hear them throwing these pitches at you in rapid-fire French that's inflected with the new, strange language of BizSpeak.
Les vins de Boisset sont le premier noms de la region, mais notre selling-points est le ... blah blah blah ...
like the reverse of terroir, "selling-points", "next steps", "target markets" become words utterly independent of English, representing instead abstract notions of making money and pimping product.
I stopped by Other Music while in the city, and was alternately bemused and disappointed by the pitch blurbs on music in the electronica section. It was all about "art-damaged", "minimal", "pop sensibility" and "Boards of Canada-esque" and subsequent listening of some purchases have exposed these to either be marketing exaggerations or just bald-faced lies. They were wine tasting notes as processed through the Pitchfork Media filter.
So my recommendation, even if you're not a wine connoisseur, if you're concerned about the bastardization of our markets and the language that they use, see the movie, but wait for video. One of the films other crippling flaws is that it has all the cinematographic qualities of an amature vacation video, replete with all of the nausea-inducing camera oscillations and unnecessary zooming that such a description might unfortunately imply.
This weekend's movie was Mondovino, a documentary on the globalization of wine production. It's really the sort of film that could've only been released on the coattails of Sideways, but it's not quite as fluffy as one might expect. The main contention is between the Mondavi Winery, a Napa powerhouse that is essentially the Microsoft of the wine world, and a cranky array of independent winemakers in France and Tuscany who decry the industry's trend towards homogenization. For the independents, it's all about terroir which is supposed to be that magical combination of earth, air and light that gives grapes a flavor that is indelibly linked to its land. There's a moment in the film where Neal Rosenthal, the most well-known wine importer on the East Coast, is driving through the Brooklyn neighborhood where he grew up, and he's awash with nostalgia. He sees a bunch of old-time Hassidics walking by and he totally freaks out, saying "This, man, is the real Brooklyn. This is fucking terroir right here."
Which basically tells you that terroir is wine-speak for "keeping it real."
... and, yeah, I was kind of amused by a wine snob who swears like a construction worker. You could say that he's exhibiting the characteristics of his terroir.
The reason, supposedly, why terroir is being abandoned is Robert Parker, America's premier wine critic, who can basically make or break a wine by giving it an 89 instead of a 91. Parker's influence is so massive that he's inadvertently spawned a cottage industry of consultants who advise winemakers around the world how to make a wine that caters to Parker's tastes -- all oak, robust colors and the subtletly of a howitzer. It's like what would happen if all of a sudden everyone had to respect Roger Ebert's film reviews, and studios had to hire directors to make various iterations of Valley of the Dolls.
As you might expect, though, there's a lot of finger-pointing in this film. The European traditionalists point at the sketchy cutthroat practices of the Mondavis, and allude to a vast conspiracy between them and American wine critics. The Napa wineries contend that the French are just elitist snobs who can't deal with real competition. The importers bemoan an ignorant market who just want someone like Robert Parker to hold their hands in the big scary wine store.
The story isn't particularly unique in the global economy. Substitute in Starbucks and poor Colombian plantation workers, and you'd essentially have the same story with coffee. Lush, ancient Sardinian vineyards are far more telegenic than a plantation barrio, of course. Snide BoBo remarks, aside, what seems so depressingly common, is the frequency with which you'd find this scenario, this tendency towards monopolization, playing out in various industries. Consumers don't develop their own tastes, they just follow trends, and the trends push a few specific products, which discourages diversity and innovation. Inspiration gives way to follow-the-leader. Of course, one can argue that this is supposed to be A Good Thingtm (heh) -- that the success of the Mondavis is a sign that the market has determined who makes the best wine and is a success for entrepreneurship and the democratization of industry. That sort of argument misses the point though, and that the purpose of a diverse, entrepreneurial market is not to create an economic elimination tournament that determines a single winner. Rather, it's the dynamic of actual competition, rather than domination, that sparks innovation and encourages everyone to become a better producer.
There are a few interesting moments in the film, when they're interviewing some of the larger, more corporate French winemakers and you hear them throwing these pitches at you in rapid-fire French that's inflected with the new, strange language of BizSpeak.
Les vins de Boisset sont le premier noms de la region, mais notre selling-points est le ... blah blah blah ...
like the reverse of terroir, "selling-points", "next steps", "target markets" become words utterly independent of English, representing instead abstract notions of making money and pimping product.
I stopped by Other Music while in the city, and was alternately bemused and disappointed by the pitch blurbs on music in the electronica section. It was all about "art-damaged", "minimal", "pop sensibility" and "Boards of Canada-esque" and subsequent listening of some purchases have exposed these to either be marketing exaggerations or just bald-faced lies. They were wine tasting notes as processed through the Pitchfork Media filter.
So my recommendation, even if you're not a wine connoisseur, if you're concerned about the bastardization of our markets and the language that they use, see the movie, but wait for video. One of the films other crippling flaws is that it has all the cinematographic qualities of an amature vacation video, replete with all of the nausea-inducing camera oscillations and unnecessary zooming that such a description might unfortunately imply.