Part A: Analysis
Ugly Delicious is an eight-part docuseries produced by Netflix and directed by Eddie Schmidt. Each episode follows the host – Michelin-starred chef David Cheng – as he tracks the origins of popular foods and the modifications that have been made to their recipes at the hands of different regions and cultures. ‘Pizza’ is the first episode, and travels to pizzerias across the globe, including Brooklyn, New Haven and Japan, in the pretence of finding the best pizza.
The episode opens with Cheng and food writer Peter Meehan lunching at Lucali, a pizzeria in Brooklyn. The pair sit around a circular table, conversing with the restaurant’s founder, Mark Iacono, about the origins of Lucali. The lighting is warm, and the tone of the conversation light and inquisitive. Their discussion is intercut with Iacono’s pizza-making process, which he performs in front of them. As the pizza transfers to the plate and the three of them share the meal, they ponder on the elements of a “good pie” – a question they refer back to at checkpoints of the episode.
This format is reminiscent of the essayist mode of documentary, “in which a proposed idea or question is tested by a range of means and intersecting lines of arguments,” (Fox, 2018). Schmidt creates varied arguments about what good pizza is from the basis of different chefs’ viewpoints. He deconstructs the practices of the pizza traditionalists in Naples, where authenticity is primary to the practice. Here, the San Marzano tomato is the ideal tomato, and only DOP certified mozzarella is acceptable. Then comes the fusion chef Ryu Yoshimura in Japan, who tops his pizza with sashimi, and the experimentalist in Copenhagen who says “tinkering” makes his pizza better.
A special part of this docuseries and the attraction that I have to it is this kind of evaluative narrative that runs through it. It is very categorical, in that it “conveys information in an analytical fashion” (Robin L. Murray & Joseph K. Heumann, 2012). I like the idea of the intricacies of food, and how Cheng and Schmidt develop this idea by asking what ingredients people use, the methods they employ, and the trends they choose to follow or breach. It is these kinds of decisions that chefs make that I want to be able to unearth in my own project as a food-documentary-filmmaker, because I appreciate the depth that each story attributes to each recipe… in a way that isn’t exploitative like reality shows like Masterchef. I like how the collage of chefs and recipes Schmidt presents compile to create the nuanced conclusion he arrives at, and I think that a combination of observational and conversation-fuelled essayist modes is a good way of going about this. As Broderick Fox argues, “The art of a great written or documentary essay hinges upon artfully weaving personal experience, history, cultural analysis, and multiple viewpoints” (Fox, 2018). This is characteristic of the episode, which seeks to find as many opinions as possible, and interweaves it with expository suggestions about the ways in which culture is responsible for the complexities of food. The tension between each point of view is crucial to the episode’s purpose, and the docuseries as a whole, which is to claim that food is relative to culture and personal values.
Importantly, these on-screen conversations are filmed in a way that pretends to be more observational, as opposed to expositional, which is something I am drawn to. The back-and-forth conversation that transpires between each person replaces the typical filmmaker-facing-subject interview-type dialogue that is featured in other documentaries, and because of this the presence of the filmmaker is reduced even more so. Only when Cheng is confused about the situation he is in, and asks “What does he want to make with this?”, is the viewer made aware of the crew behind the camera, and gives the sense that he’s been put into a situation. Otherwise, I think it creates a certain intimacy to the documentary, which more inclusively engages the viewer. The dialogue does appears to be candid – and I should emphasise that that’s something I really value about this docuseries – but subjects often phrase their dialogue as a filmmaker would pose a question in an interview, which may be evident that the reality Schmidt constructs is not as untampered as it would seem.
The episode is adorned by close ups of preparations and process, hands applying ingredients (tearing mozzarella, shredding truffles, the food being garnished, dough being stretched) and long shots of the chef who perform them. It uses observation well, and definitely maintains a level of integrity to the process of how each pizza is made. But this close framing and attention to detail equally means “turning one’s back on something else”, and there is a lot that Schmidt places in the periphery (Fox, 2018). The realm of the kitchen is scarcely explored, the environment obscured, and Schmidt heroes the head chefs so much that their brigade is made redundant. Likewise, Fox mentions that “the syntax of editing and sound design profoundly shape the meaning of a shot” (Fox, 2018) and Ugly Delicious is composed of rapid (albeit seamlessly continuous) editing and lots of stylistic qualities: there are chapter titles and name tags, creative inserts like “How To Eat Pizza”, and upbeat music like The Zombies’ This Will Be Our Year. It loses some of its objectivity in exchange for entertainment purposes, but the result is that I read each shot as lively and creative and fun – and I find that enjoyable to watch.
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References:
Fox, Broderick 2018 ‘A brief history of documentary movements and modes’, Documentary Media: History, Theory, Practice
Fox, Broderick 2018 ‘Reimagining Documentary’, Documentary Media: History, Theory, Practice
Ugly Delicious, 2018, streaming video, Netflix, Tremolo Productions, directed by Eddie Schmidt, viewed 20 March 2019. <https://www.netflix.com/watch/80170369?trackId=200257859>
Robin L. Murray & Joseph K. Heumann (2012) ‘Contemporary eco-food films: The documentary tradition’, Studies in Documentary Film, 6:1, 43-59
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Part B: Video Essay