Babettes gæstebud [Babette’s Feast] (1987)

(On Cable TV, March 2020) Casually asked what I think of Babette’s Feast, I’ll probably answer with the usual platitudes: Great movie, won an Oscar and offers an interesting vision of how to reconcile pious self-sacrifice with epicurean delight, stripped-down cinematography and unusual story. I’ll even throw in a plot summary, as a servant spends her newfound fortune preparing a sumptuous meal for people used to food-as-fuel. Pressed further and I’ll dig into the film’s subtleties, its complex lessons, its delight for eating and its intentional intention to set everything against a bleak setting. But if you really want to know, I’m liable to become less complimentary—the words “unbearable” and “interminable” are going to show up, as well as an overall desire to never revisit this specific area in time and space. Sure, Babette’s Feast is made for easy liking: the focus on food, the jabs at mirthless life and the extraordinary monetary sacrifice from its protagonist are made to attract attention. But it’s also a slow-paced subtitled film made with artistic intent and voluntarily alienating devices. Some people really do love it, but not everyone has to.