Weeks 8-9

Movies, TV, and Food (Combined weeks)

I decided to combine these two weeks so I could post something more cohesive, and because I was still working through movies and write-ups at the end of week 8. I’m glad I waited because looking at all of my reflections in the same place helped inspire my final expressive project, and gave me the weekend to better process what I was looking through before beginning new material. I decided to discuss and reflect on specific scenes or lines instead of the whole piece (except for Bao, but that one is 7 minutes), but I’ll mention where I watched each one so you can try and watch it if you’re interested. I decided to split my focus from movies with plots revolving around food, and movies with important themes, messages, or patterns relating to food or scenes of eating.

Bao (2019)

Bao is a short film written and directed by Shi Domme, and released as a Disney short through Disney+. Honestly, this one made me sob, I had to call my mom and tell her I love her even though we already called earlier in the morning. It follows a Chinese mother living in Canada, opening with a beautiful scene of her hand preparing fresh Bao for her and her husband, who eats quickly and rushes off to work. Seemingly alone in the house, she hears a wail before taking a bite from her final dumpling only to find it has come to life. We watch her nurture this Bao as her child, taking care of him when he is sick, cooking for him, teaching him, but always keeping him away from other children for fear of him getting hurt. Over time you see this little Bao grow, hitting puberty and resenting his mother for her overprotectiveness. Before long he is an adult, and his mother’s attempts to connect fall flat as he attempts to move out with his girlfriend, a white woman she has never met. As he tries to leave there is an emotional confrontation between the two of them, in the final moments of which she snatches him up as he exits through the door, eating and destroying him rather than letting him leave. We cut to her crying in bed that evening, her husband looking in on her before nudging a young man into the room. This young man shares resemblance with the mother, father, and Bao, implying that he was in a way the child from the rest of the short, represented through his mother’s experience with her creation. He offers her a baked good we see them sharing in the beginning of the short, and they both cry as they sit eating them together. In our final scene, we see the family sitting together around the dinner table, including the sons girlfriend who is the same woman the Bao brought home. The mother is showing her son how to properly fold his Bao, though he is quickly shown up by his girlfriend’s perfect creations, earning her approval from all around the table.

This movie really highlights the emotions of loneliness, regret, resentment, love, and forgiveness. Whilst the novelty of a living Bao is certainly part of the artistry, the story that centers around her son, who is not revealed until the ending, is certainly where we see the most plays between food and emotion. The baked goods shared in the bedroom in a way represent the act of forgiveness, the pink box and glazed pastries reminding the viewer of an earlier time in which their relationship was easier, and again when they were rejected for the first time, as a teenager on the bus. Watching them cry together on the bed brought me to tears, this movie is backed by music alone, they never talk yet eating these pastries through their tears says so much about the healing happening between them. The final scene of creating the bao together also demonstrates this forgiveness, as well as being the opposite of the opening of the movie in which the mother cooked Bao alone.

The loneliness of the mother seems to be what creates the bao, almost as if she’s subconsciously trying to fill the gap left when her son moved away. Throughout you see her experience the growing up of her son and watching the mistakes, regardless of if you interpret this as the first time through a different lense or some kind of magical redo through the Bao, the regrets of a mother and her son are put to rest with a family meal. I cannot stress enough how emotional I was by the end of this one, the ability to communicate so much of a relationship with no words is truly incredible, as well as the artistry applied to the colors in this movie as they changed with the emotions of the mother and son.

Delicious in Dungeon (2024)

Delicious in Dungeon is a Netflix animated series, and was an incredibly cute show to watch, I really love the art style, and I’m a sucker for anything that makes me think of D&D. The show follows a group of broke adventurers traveling through a multi-layered dungeon and surviving only off the monsters they can kill and eat. I didn’t get very far through the season, but I watched enough to develop a love specifically for the cooking scenes as they are so beautiful in animation and energy; and pick up on a couple of character patterns relating to these unusual meals.

Laios (grey armour) is the outgoing leader of the group, I’d guess he’s playing a human fighter. When the group goes broke it is he who proposes the idea of surviving off monsters alone, to which Marcille (blue robes, elf? cleric) unhappily agrees, only due to the urgent nature of the quest. Throughout, Laios is giddy over the whole idea, excitedly killing and preparing monsters in the first episode, only for them to turn out horribly inebile. He is delighted when a new party member comes along with knowledge and immense skill in preparing these fantastical monsters and plants. Marcille demonstrates her love of fine food, dreaming over a dumpling soup she cannot afford and turning her nose up at these monster meals. Though she is always grossed out, she does always try and end up enjoying the food, and while she never looks forward to the creations, she does find some pleasure in them and their familiar yet strange tastes.

“Is it right to eat what ate one of us?”

Glass Onion (2022)

Glass Onion was an interesting watch, especially as the movie itself is not at all food-centric despite its name. The movie is a multi-layered murder mystery that takes place on a remote island hosting a vacation of billionaire friends. The island is owned by our antagonist, Miles Bron, who has built the titular glass onion in a dome atop his mansion and surrounding his office. Less than the plot of the movie itself, I was more interested in the behavior of the characters during the dinner scene and following events, and to explore a certain metaphor. Before the plot moving murder takes place on the island, Miles has prepared a murder mystery dinner party for his group, which he explains along with the plans for the rest of the weekend, boasting of all the fine foods and drinks they shall indulge in. Despite this, the plates in this scene remain empty throughout, and the following scenes only show hints of characters eating. Though they drink in excess and with the finest of choices, I don’t think I ever saw them eating on screen, aside from perhaps the fitness influencer.

Without giving too much away, one of the key themes of the movie was that this group of influential people, was brought up by one, influential, charismatic, but not overly smart individual that created even more success for himself than the rest of them simply by manipulating them into seeing him as someone they need. And then once he had the money, he had power over the rest of them by bankrolling their endeavors. Despite the riches, he doesn’t ever create anything good, his private island is built for looks and falls apart in function. Despite their intelligence, the group lost their agency to greed. Despite the riches, they ate so much they couldn’t enjoy it.

The Menu (2022)

“For starters, you have taken the joy out of eating.”

The Menu is a must watch movie for those interested in food studies (in my opinion). I find it inspires an interesting conversation in the intentions and emotions behind cooking, and the idea of deconstructing or reconstructing our food. The scene in particular I want to explore is the cheeseburger scene, near the very end of the movie. As the dessert course looms overhead, our protagonist, Margo, makes a final attempt to get through to the head Chef.

“You’ve failed, and you’ve bored me. And the worst part is, I’m still fucking hungry.”

Recalling a photo in his office of him young and smiling while cooking burgers early in his career, she tells him his food sucks and she wants to send it back. Requesting a simple cheeseburger, with American cheese, which he agrees is the best cheese for a burger and gives her a price of $9.95. After negotiating a side of fries, Margot is served the meal she requested and takes a bite as the chef looks on, for the first time seeming to care about the opinion of one of his patrons. When she has swallowed, she compliments the burger, before stating that her eyes were bigger than her stomach, to which the chef seems disappointed, until she asks to take it to go.

“When I eat your food, it tastes like it was made with no love.”

“You cook with obsession, not love. Even your hot dishes are cold”

Having appealed to the side of himself who used to treasure cooking, feeding, and food, demonstrating herself to be different from these others who took the beauty of his food for granted, the chef allows her to leave. Whilst she escapes to shore, sitting and eating her to-go meal, the chef prepares his guests for dessert. Whilst describing his opinions of the inspiration behind this final course, he tells the diners “It is everything wrong with us, yet we associate it with innocence.” One of the final shots of of Margo sitting on the boat watching the island, using the menu from her complimentary gift bag as a napkin to wipe her mouth, choosing to savor the flavors and not the grandeur.

Honorary Mention: The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975)

Everyone knows The Rocky Horror Picture Show, but the dinner scene I find to be one of the best parts of the movie. After Columbia’s lover, Eddie, emerges from his prison in the deep freezer with a song that gets roaring applause and takes the attention from Frankenfurters special moment, he is brutalized and killed. Later at dinner, it is revealed that the “meatloaf” they have been eating, is in fact the remains of Eddie. This seems not only to be a way to punish Columbia for loving someone more than she loved him, but in another sense feels as though it could be Frankenfurter consuming Eddies power.

“That’s a rather tender subject. Another slice anyone?”

My Personal Menu

Inspired by both the symbolic representations of food and emotion I have studied this quarter, as well as the menu project that framed my ILC, the final expressive portion for my Winter 24 ILC centers around the act and art of cooking itself. Each of the scenes I have studied this week uses food as a metaphor or plot device to explain concepts to the audience without using words, something hard to achieve without filming a scene of my own, so forgive me if the presentation of my work isn’t quite what you were expecting with the theme. Instead, I will be writing about the process of cooking and eating common meals in my house, writing about the memory and meaning behind these dishes. While none of them are fancy, I feel they are very telling of my life and my loved ones. And in honor of the subject material, I found some pictures of myself and food that tell stories of their own.

LEFT: Energizing with cup-a-noodles. MIDDLE: Covid lockdown drive and ice cream. RIGHT: Greenery food and cheap tequila.

My Personal Menu

Breakfasts are difficult in our house, stomachs flip in the early morning, dishes from the night before looming over the prospect of cooking. Leftovers are the star of our AM kitchen, offering easy respite from our dishes dilemma. Today I have found leftover breakfast potatoes, ground bison seasoned with sage, oregano, black beans. A small pan offers a quick clean, so I give in and power through a single dish for the sake of fried eggs to top it all off. It takes me less than 15 minutes to reheat and quick fry, timed perfectly for my roommate to be back to the living room and ready to eat and soon we are sat on the floor in satisfied silence. I cant help but praise myself sometimes, even the broken yolk cannot dampen my spirits, and the thanks of my loved ones will push me through the dishes.

When we have company I can’t help but want to impress, but at the same time, I don’t like to spend too much of my time cooking when my friends are in town. Busy lives have made these moments precious, and the slowcooker my best friend. Pork ribs are sold in huge packs at Safeway, $13 for at least two meals of three servings making it an absolute bargain, and when combined with crockpot magic it becomes tender pulled pork sandwiches that never fail to win over a guest. Marinated overnight in a spice blend that turns them a gorgeous red-orange, I place slithers of butter between each slice and chop my hot peppers to lay on top. All I have to do for eight hours is give them the occasional flip, and the melted butter will be used to toast my ciabatta, adding that spicy flavor to the crispy bread.

I hope they can taste my gratitude for them, hot as these fresnos. I picked onions yesterday, sweet yellow with rainbow peppercorns and chili flakes. Normally I would use red onions but beggars cant be choosers. I strain out a little of the butter and fat, toasting the bread and laying out my pork. Everyone picks their own toppings but I like a little Louisiana hot sauce and onions, the perfect mix of spice and acidity.

These moments are worth their weight in spiced, buttery gold. Tonight, there were no leftovers, I almost cried with joy.