Mondovino: The Series
is a ten-part expansion of the 2004 feature by Jonathan Nossiter.
This documentary on globalization in the wine business and its effect
on viticulture won multiple prizes and was one of only four documentaries
to have ever been nominated for the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film
Festival. This four-disc set comprises a massively-detailed broadening
of the feature that provides a more inclusive, richly-illustrated status
report on the global wine trade.
Across ten hour-long episodes
that utilize a free-flowing thematically-oriented editorial style jumping
from the Napa Valley to Bordeaux to Paris to New York City, Mondovino
looks at wine from several angles. We see winemakers big and small
from the United States, France, and Italy. We meet wine merchants
and wine critics. We learn about how wine is made and how it is
sold. Whereas the feature version of Mondovino focuses
on the rivalry between the United States and France (not necessarily
in terms of the wines themselves, but in terms of the way business is
conducted), the series opens up and really takes a "Europe versus
United States" view, while maintaining an investigative eye on the
influence of big "corporate" wineries on smaller family-owned operations.
Nossiter is biased, first of
all. As an artist himself, he obviously values winemaking in its
purest form - starting with the attention to grapes and soil, the
core ingredients of good wine. The series' point of view emphasizes
the finer points of these two elements, while cultivating an appreciation
for the sensitivity to small changes in weather, environment, and grape-handling
that can affect what ends up in the bottle. What Nossiter decries
is the commoditization of wine beyond all reason - the ruthless attitude
toward grape and soil that characterizes the larger wine trade, made
up of multinational winemaking corporations, import/export merchants,
and certain all-powerful critics (particularly Robert Parker).
Much like the art world of the early 20th century, the contemporary
wine trade has taken a business that has historically relied on finely-honed
talent and compressed it to a point where only occasional narrow beams
of light escape from a black hole of commercial expedience.
Mondovino has been praised
and condemned with almost equal enthusiasm. Much of the criticism
has taken an anti-American angle. Mondovino takes on one
of the biggest forces in the wine world: the Mondavi family of California.
While its incontestable that Robert Mondavi is one of the primary reasons
that California has become a major wine-producing region, his company's
very American free-market corporate approach is anathema to centuries
of craftsman-like winemaking. Mondavi's market ambitions parallel
Starbucks and Microsoft in his quest for hegemony, and it's this attitude
that Nossiter and many of his subjects take issue with. In the
series, the Mondavis come off more sympathetically than in the feature.
Certainly these are not evil people - they are, however, Americans
doing business in an American fashion. This, paired with the fact
that their product is historically European, is the crux of much of
the tension between the Mondavis and the French. The blinkered
single-mindedness that makes a good capitalist may not be in the best
interests of a product that requires patience, parental coddling, and
The depersonalization of wine
and its homogenization by corporate strategy threatens vintners everywhere.
Although those threatened by Mondavi mostly take the person of small
family-owned French wineries in the series, Nossiter is not posing a
strictly French versus American battle. It is, again, a matter
of attitude that is at issue here - a quasi-private family tradition
versus the predictable sameness of the multi-national behemoths.
It's wine as a hand-crafted mosaic of ingredients versus wine as a
consumable to be produced as cheaply as possible. There is snobbery
in the attitude of the small French winemakers interviewed by Nossiter,
yet it's a snobbery born not of superiority, but of the intimate multi-generational
knowledge of how to use refined methods to cultivate and reward refined
tastes. This knowledge is taken for granted by those such as Mondavi,
whose methods and "secrets" were codified long ago - normalized
to maintain rising profits that depended upon a branded predictability.
Nossiter's bias, clear as
it is, does not hinder the film nor does it bother or distract me.
Not because I necessarily sympathize with it, but because it's transparent.
There is no hidden agenda here, but rather the honest and curious investigation
by an intrepid filmmaker who has spent an enormous amount of time (four
years) sifting through information, experiencing the wine business first
hand, and has come to some sound, informed conclusions. Nossiter's
thoroughness is even more evident in the series than it was in the feature,
and multiple points of view are well-documented. The Mondavis
have more screen time here, as does the self-anointed dean of wine critics,
Ultimately, Nossiter's enquiry
results in an obvious conclusion - one that is implied throughout
the film. If you wish to find the varied experiences that wine
has to offer, you must be inquisitive and adventurous. Choose
your own wines, rather than just relying on readily-available standbys.
Seek out the right wine shop; try out regional varietals that are new
to you. Dive in; your purchases make a difference in the increasingly
corporate wine marketplace. If the Mondavis and their like-minded
competitors have their way, our choices will become increasingly limited
and traditional winemaking will evaporate faster than you can say "micro-oxygenation."
The Video and Audio