Le festin de Babette

It has started quietly. If your are looking for an action-packed movie this is absolutely not the right choice. All characters are slowly depicted on the scene. Stroke after stroke on the scene canvas. None can take away his hands to the priest and so the sisters lifespan devotion can only remain into the village. Philippa and Martina know their destiny, belong only to the village. So when you understand that, you are on the movie scene, in the village that becomes the whole known world in that time. When, no technology can let you imagine anything else than the campaign, the village, the sea. You feel the rhythm of that ancient village's life. Watching the movie in a cold snowy late afternoon can cause you to approach this evening dinner with some sumptuous expectations ...

The final sentence that give a title to Babette's sacrifice far from Paris: An artist is never poor.

Superb photography. Many situations depict portraits and landscapes as they were styled on canvas there, in Jutland, in 18th century.

One evening when I was working in the lab, I developed this intense pang of hunger. I decided to go downstairs to the cafeteria and scrap together a dinner when I noticed a few random folk gathered in front of the adjacent theater. Since the building was usually empty by that hour I couldn't help feeling curious and since I always eavesdrop on conversations I soon discovered that they were showing old films in the theater. So, I bought a few vendor snacks and decided to join them for a viewing. That was one of the best work related decisions I ever made as an undergrad. That movie made me reconsider my second shift job at the lab and check out enrollment into the local culinary art schools. Well, I didn't become a chef but I did abandon biology for a more creative outlet and realized that being home before dinner is an important part of better living. Babette's Feast - a movie that had me reevaluate my life and consider a career change. How many flicks do that? Best movie ever.

"Babette's Feast" proves that not all film theories and formulas are true 100% of the time. Here's a story where there is no life-or-death conflict, no raging anger, no violent outbursts. Nothing blowed up real good, and there is nothing resembling a chase scene. The conflict is about the ways in which people can be nice to each other. Their personal differences of passion or conviction are not as important as the ways in which they can connect with each other.

How shockingly refreshing.

There is an undercurrent to this film that gives it the feel of a Garrison Keillor monologue, in that it is built around people's personal foibles and quirks.

Even more refreshing is how "Babette's Feast" manages to be nice without becoming cloying, saccharine, facile, superficial or insincere. People's personal passions are portrayed not only from their own perspective, but from the perspective of the people they affect, with more realism than you usually get in film, yet also with sincere and infectious optimism.

If you don't come away from "Babette's Feast" smiling and feeling better, then you must have been distracted from giving it your full attention. This is one of those very rare films that you can recommend to everyone you know. It is truly in a class by itself. Like Mary Poppins, "Practically perfect in every way."

Utterly charming and subtly stunning.

Flawlessly directed, written, performed, and filmed, this quiet and unpretentious Danish film is an example of cinema at its best, and if a person exists who can watch BABETTE'S FEAST without being touched at a very fundamental level, they are a person I do not care to know.

The story is quite simple. In the 1800s, two elderly maiden ladies (Birgitte Federspiel and Bodil Kjer) reside in remote Jutland, where they have sacrificed their lives, romantic possibilities, and personal happiness in order to continue their long-dead father's religious ministry to the small flock he served. One of the women's youthful admirers sends to them a Frenchwoman, Babette (Stéphane Audran), whose husband and son have been killed in France and who has fled her homeland lest she meet the same fate. Although they do not really require her services, the sisters engage her as maid and cook--and as the years pass her cleverness and tireless efforts on their behalf enables the aging congregation to remain together and the sisters to live in more comfort than they had imagined; indeed, the entire village admires and depends upon her.

One day, however, Babette receives a letter: she has won a lottery and is now, by village standards, a wealthy woman. Knowing that her new wealth will mean her return to France, the sisters grant her wish that she be allowed to prepare a truly French meal for them and the members of their tiny congregation. The meal and the evening it is served is indeed a night to remember--but not for reasons that might be expected, for Babette's feast proves to be food for both body and soul, and is ultimately her gift of love to the women who took her in and the villagers who have been so kind to her.

The film is extraordinary in every way, meticulous in detail yet not overpowering in its presentation of them. As the film progresses, we come to love the characters in both their simple devotion to God and their all-too-human frailties, and the scenes in which Babette prepares her feast and in which the meal is consumed are powerful, beautiful, and incredibly memorable. There have been several films that have used food as a metaphor for love, but none approach the simple artistry and beauty of BABETTE'S FEAST, which reminds us of all the good things about humanity and which proves food for both body and soul. Highly, highly recommended.

Gary F. Taylor, aka GFT, Amazon Reviewer

The 1987 Oscar winner for Best Foreign Film is an austere but ultimately joyous fable set on a desolate spit of coastline in northern Denmark, where for sustenance the puritan townsfolk rely first on prayer and afterwards on their daily ration of a thin, brown gruel made from soggy bread crusts and dehydrated flounder. But all that changes with the arrival from Paris of an attractive refugee (the story takes place during the French Revolution) who thanks her benefactors, and tests their strict religious principles, by preparing a sinfully delicious gourmet feast for the entire town. The meal is more than enough to tempt even the most devout ascetic, but of course the dour villagers do their best to look as if they're not enjoying each luxurious mouthful. It's rare these days to find a film so unafraid of simple virtues, without even a trace of malice or cynicism to spoil its bittersweet charm. In the end the gap dividing the villagers' spiritual and earthly appetites is happily bridged, proving again that few things (except perhaps a good movie) are as life embracing as a hearty meal.