MEET-CUTE is a standard device in romantic comedies. Couples run into one another, often in bizarre circumstances, where you just know there will be various ups and downs before the ending. The director Ivan Calbérac’s The Tasting (Cert.15) locates the encounter in a wine shop. This setting (in Troyes, France) adds new dimensions to the genre.
Hortense (Isabelle Carré) lives unselfishly, working as a midwife and in her spare time cooking gourmet food at church for the homeless. It isn’t clear if all this is because she is in thrall to her elderly mother, Danièle (Geneviève Mnich), whose religious beliefs seem to be enacted vicariously through her daughter. We quickly intuit that Hortense longs for a child, and, despite her youthful looks, that the biological clock is ticking.
She visits a wine store run by Jacques (Bernard Campan) for something to accompany the meal that she is preparing in church. Her church’s recent switch of sacramental wine to Nuits-Saint-Georges at mass has stimulated an interest. Jacques duly advises her on other options. While he knows his stuff, the rest of his life brings little joy. Ultimately, it is a matter of two lonely, ill-at-ease people leading lives of quiet desperation. For Hortense, the relief comes through delight when delivering babies and serving the needy. Jacques, a near-alcoholic, bottles up his sorrows, details of which we eventually learn.
A mutual taste for wine leads to a taste of love. Perhaps, for Hortense, it is a need for someone who fills up her senses as never before. Jacques delights in her zest for discovery, awakening in his dormant soul new possibilities. He is not much of a churchgoer, but draws broad parallels between wine-appreciation and holy communion: instances of heaven touching earth. Jacques assembles at Hortense’s request a few guests eager to learn the art of oenology. They include Steve (Mounir Amamra), a second-generation Algerian living in a none-too-friendly youth hostel. After Jacques’s heart attack, he works at the store, never short of a word to the wise when his boss needs it
Less helpful at the event is his friend, Guillaume (Éric Viellard), a bookshop owner and unreconstructed male. He utters a string of excruciating chat-up lines to Hortense. She is adept at the brush-off, and, anyway, it is not difficult to realise that she has eyes only for Jacques. Why? Tacitly, it looks like her Christianity. Not out of duty or pity, but possessing an openness to discovering God’s love in one who is seemingly loveless.
The homeless community has played no small part in helping to overcome her awkwardness. And, though definitely appreciating the flow of wine coming their way, it is the humble and poor who enable Hortense to be all right about her feelings. Jacques, so long acquainted with grief, is transfigured by joy. He must sacrifice the wine that he deeply loves, not just for health reasons, but to endorse his commitment to Hortense. Things go temporarilly awry (of course), but as with all meet-cute movies, we long for a right true end where they may taste love that is truly divine.
On general release.