The Taste of Things

The Taste of Things is a patient film but it’s bubbling with intensity and a great lust for the love of food and the sensuality of a lover.

This in an Epicurean epic about loving food, loving cooking and loving doing so for someone you love. There's nothing wrong with that but whether it needs to be served over eight courses is another question.

The tantrums and theatricality attached to the cult of the celebrity chef are enough to kill my appetite, but I found an antidote in The Taste of Things.

My dad would've absolutely loved it... It was done with a relish, and it is poignant, and you get to like and know the characters.

It’s beautifully choreographed and shot by director Tran Anh Hung and his cinematographer, Jonathan Ricquebourg. It’s rather too beautiful. For a woman who spends hours with her arm up a swan’s bum or gutting fish, Binoche ... is unfailingly radiant.





The Taste of Things is not just a sensual experience for the characters, but for the viewer as well. And it goes beyond the food.

Trần Anh Hùng has cooked up a spectacular film that takes its time, placing the central relationship on a gentle simmer... The Taste of Things is romantic. It’s tragic. It’s simply magnifique.

Binoche and Magimel believably communicate their affection for the work they do and for each other, which should leave a distinctly warm taste in audiences’ mouths.

The movie absorbs us with its almost dialogue-free scenes and with the music created by the simple sound of kitchen utensils. [Full review in Spanish]

The film is not just about the taste of food, but of love, beauty, sensuality, and human connection, offering a deeply gratifying viewing experience.