'Bottle Shock': A good tale should be left alone

I read John Intardonato’s Aug. 29 article, “Bottle Shock — Sonoma gets its revenge” with both interest and amusement.

Having seen the film before reading Intardonato’s commentary, the thing that struck me as I left the theater was that the film functions much as a film adaptation of a good book functions. “The book is better,” most people say (although not always, as I learned from the class on film adaptation of literature that I developed and taught at Napa Valley College).

In this case, however, the real-life story is better, no question. But that doesn’t mean that the film doesn’t offer its viewers some good cinematic moments nor that a film adaptation of a book doesn’t offer its viewers a good cinematic experience. I certainly came away with a pleasant feeling after seeing “Bottle Shock.”

I greatly enjoyed Alan Rickman in the role of Steven Spurrier, even as I could recognize that the character was more caricature.
I also enjoyed the vineyard views, even though most of them were of Sonoma County. Most viewers wouldn’t know the difference; I’m not sure I always did.

And I greatly enjoyed the drama of the lead-up to and the final results of the tasting itself. The screen-writing was effective and thrilling. Not being a Napa Valley native, I didn’t know all the details of that famous Judgment at Paris event, but I did know that Winiarski’s wine won the red wine category; I didn’t know that Chateau Montelena won the white, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I did know that Mike Grgich was somehow involved.

Of course, the film didn’t help illuminate those responsible for the white wine win. And I did wonder why Winiarski was left out of the film story.

He just gets a tag line at the end of the film. What I could have done without in the film was the outdoor boxing ring, where Jim Barrett took his errant son, Bo, to task for his failings; the blonde female wine trainee; the rigged wine tastings at the Calistoga bar; the irritating American friend of Spurrier, who hung out at his Parisian wine academy; and the ratty Gremlin that the film creators had Spurrier driving in his search for the best California chardonnay and cabernet. None of these ingredients in the film did a thing to advance the plot or develop character.

They were just pithy fillers. Yet despite these minuses, I am left with some pleasant visual impressions from the film and a few memorable lines well-delivered.

I am not so sure that I would have been left with the same pleasant sensations if I had spent my matinee money on some bottles of Two Buck Chuck. Still, after reading John Intardonato’s article, I was left with one additional thought: John’s article took me back to my last interview with Mendocino ridgetop zinfandel grower George Zeni, and some of his last words to me.

Remarking on the quality of his mountain zinfandel grapes and the exceptionally rich, robust wine produced from them, he said that when it came to growing his grapes and making the wine, his mantra was “Don’t take nothin’ out, don’t put nothin’ in.

If you’ve got good grapes, leave ’em the hell alone!” Perhaps the film’s creators could have done with George’s advice regarding “Bottle Shock”: Don’t put irrelevant characters and details in, don’t take the real characters out. If you’ve got a good story, leave it the hell alone. Definitely, the film could have been better for having followed this sage advice from an old mountaintop zinfandel grower.