A slice of bloody violence, seasoned with anachronistic timelines, and served on a platter of dark comedy; that is a Tarantino film.
From cult classics such as Pulp Fiction, Reservoir Dogs, Inglorious Basterds, Django Unchained, and Kill Bill, Quentin Tarantino is no stranger to the game. Although his films are drenched in the desire for violence, revenge, and redemption, an integral part of his unique filmmaking style lies in the deliberate use of food–properly, the power in food.
Food and beverage are commonly seen on-screen, yet function to carry a scene and provide “busy work” for its characters. Tarantino utilizes every morsel to develop themes, establish character traits, pace dialogue, and forge power dynamics. His characters can be seen gorging on food, cooking food, and even speaking about food. These strikingly delicious visual motifs among Tarantino’s body of work immerse audiences one bite at a time.
COURSE I: FARM TO TABLE.
Released in 2009, Inglorious Basterds serves audiences a “prix fixe” of a dual assassination plot aimed at taking down Nazi Germany leadership–one helmed by Shosanna Dreyfus, a young French Jewish cinema proprietor, and another led by Lt. Aldo Raine of The Basterds, a Jewish-American guerrilla force. Most of the film is spoken in French, German, English, and Italian, yet food should be considered a fourth as it transposes the barrier between these foreign languages. Antagonist Colonel Landa is tasked with searching and decimating the remaining Jews in 1941 Nazi-Occupied France. Although fluent in German, French, English, and Italian, he prefers to use unspoken language as his preferred means of communication, specifically through food and drink elements. It’s in these subtle nuances that thread the undercurrent of Landa’s cruelty.
The film’s opening shot gives us a glimpse into the peaceful life of a farmer and his family; from a distance, we see a small cottage, cows grazing on lush grass, a farmer chopping wood, and his daughter stringing laundry on the clothesline. This peace is obliterated when a fleet of Nazi vehicles arrive on the farm. From the moment Colonel Landa enters the frame, he exercises his power by striding over the property and extending his hand out like a loaded gun to Monsieur LaPadite–it’s here we understand that at any given moment, he could have his men enter the house and murder its occupants with complete impunity. His stature and reputation are enough to remind his host of the risks involved.
The first food and drink elements introduced are tobacco pipes and a glass of fresh milk from the LaPadite farm. LaPadite asks his daughter through gritted teeth, “Suzanne, would you be so good as to get the Colonel some wine?” Instantly, he declines and remarks, “This being a dairy farm, one would be safe in assuming you have milk?” Again, implying that the family is there to answer at his beck and call. This initial refusal could have many explanations, but one best described in Roland Barthe’s essay, “Wine and Milk” in Mythologies, “This galvanic substance is always considered, for instance, as the most efficient of thirst-quenchers” and continues, “In its red form, it has blood, the dense and vital fluid…Humoral form matters little; it is above all a converting substance, capable of reversing situations and states, and of extracting from objects their opposites.” Colonel Landa is here to reverse the situation, reminding LaPadite of his power and authority. But even more so, this glass of milk could cleanse Landa’s palate before blood is spilled, as Barthe describes, “Some American films, in which the hero, strong and uncompromising, did not shrink from having a glass of milk before drawing his avenging Colt.” Insisting wine to milk also sets him apart from other characters in the film, suggesting he does not partake in vices and prefers to keep his mind clear.
Landa continues pressing LaPadite to unravel the truth of his visit: the search for the last of the Jewish families, the Dreyfuses. In the heat of the interrogation, the camera tightens to an extreme close-up of LaPadite’s tobacco pipe. He tamps his tobacco flame like Landa’s questions tamp him. The frame feels stifled and smokey; in this heartbeat of a moment, we feel as though we were being scrutinized by Landa. The swiftness of the insert shot signals the ambiguity and increasing tension of the subject, the missing Dreyfus family. The scene returns to its original medium shot, briefing us with a second to catch our breath. Even the size of Landa’s pipe is larger than that of LaPadite. Although this reference to a “larger pipe” is not explicitly sexual, it is a reminder of Landa’s sheer control over the situation.
COURSE II: “LIFE IS SHORT. EAT DESSERT FIRST.”
Colonel Landa and Shosanna Dreyfus eventually meet again three years later in 1944 at the French cafe, Chez Maurice, with Landa carrying himself in the same manner as the film’s initial opening scene. Landa requests to meet with the young cinema proprietor in private, ensuring it is only part of his duty to discuss the security measures for her theater. He orders two strudels, an espresso, and a glass of milk–a glass of milk. Shosanna’s eyebrows shoot up and we can feel the bomb drop—the ah-ha moment.
As an audience, we are left bewildered: Does the colonel truly recognize this young cinema proprietor, Emmanuelle Mimieux, as Shosanna Dreyfus of the family he decimated three years prior? Or simply a chance encounter?
Her chest puffs in response to clear the pounding of her heart. Yet, this conversation never discusses the security measures of her theater, but becomes an interrogation-like conversation of cinema and her family history. The waiter returns with the strudels, and just as Shosanna dives her fork into the dessert, Landa halts her from taking a bite, chiding, “attendez la crème.” Multiple insert shots of the cream and strudel interrupt the “flow” of the scene–similar to Landa overpowering the conversation through the presence of food. Essentially subduing the opportunity for Shosanna to engage with her surroundings or “conversation.”
It’s critical to note puff pastries in WWII were produced with pig lard (not Kosher) due to a wartime butter shortage. This addition of cream is another contravention of Kosher customs. Landa’s deliberate choice of dessert for Shosanna could be interpreted as a test to see if she is Jewish (as she would reject the food) or knowing the truth of her identity–forcing her to eat non-Kosher. Dairy is especially disturbing for Shosanna as it was the final visual motif before her family was decimated under Landa’s reign of terror.
In a final attempt to unnerve the girl, Landa offers her a cigarette–not just any–but a German cigarette. Like the film’s initial opening scene, the camera tightens to a close-up, pronouncing the subtleties of Shosanna’s reactions. He presses this uncomfortable silence, “I did have something else I wanted to ask you.” Her returning gaze doesn’t falter.
Finally dissatisfied with Shosanna’s responses and inability to break under pressure, the colonel retracts his scorpion’s tail, “but right now, for the life of me, I can’t remember what it is.” He forcefully squashes the cigarette into the strudel, abdicating his presence in the cafe. This unnecessary destruction of the pastry nods to Landa’s immense frustration with Shosanna’s fluid answers, leaving him without the truth of Emmanuelle’s identity.
Through carefully crafted scenes and meticulous dialogue, juxtaposing decadent food with the spoilage of violence exerts power in character dynamics–and over audiences–one bite at a time.
References
Barthes, R., & Lavers, A. (1991). Wine and Milk. In Mythologies (pp. 58–61). essay, Noonday Press.