Indulgence as Empowerment by Tori Placentra Set in the 1990s at a boys’ boarding school called Dryden Park in the countryside of England, A Feast at Midnight (1994) is a story about the nourishing and empowering abilities of indulging in desserts. The film portrays the empowering abilities of desserts through transformations of characters often introducing them in vulnerable situations, making their transformation at the end of the film that much more marked. The beginning of the film portrays a financially struggling school, desperate to appease the wishes of the parents to maintain and recruit new students. Primarily through complaints exchanged between students and faculty it is revealed that the main way they do this is by eating “health foods” because “that’s what the mothers want” says the Headmaster. But Major Longfellow says he’s tired of eating “skinny little meals that leave you feeling empty all day.” This is also when some important first introductions are made: Magnus is first shown dejected and isolated from the other boys, Goof is shown playing the piano beautifully but he says he can’t play in front of other people, and Charlotte is shown helplessly and timidly trying to control a group of boys in the midst of a pillow fight, with the scene ending in her mockery. The boys fantasize about indulging outside of the “good for us” food that the school provides, a notion, which completely discounts the possibility of food having more than one purpose. “Good for your body” does not necessarily translate to ‘good for the soul’, which the boys, and adults, in the film so crave. Eventually, Magnus, Goof, and Tava cannot stand it any longer, and they sneak into the kitchen to whip up some mouth-watering pancakes. After this experience, Magnus and boys, who don’t fit in playing cricket, affirm that they are a “team” in their own right and name themselves “The Scoffers.” Each visit to the kitchen leaves the boys a little more emboldened than before – a little more able to stand up to the school bullies, including Major Longfellow. The film shifts from using suspenseful, close-up, tracking shots of feet, to focusing on the faces of the boys especially as they enjoy their sweets. For the closing scene, the boys make a Charlotte cake for Charlotte’s birthday. This after hours party is the ultimate disobedience in the school, but Charlotte and the boys have completely overcome their inhibitions. Charlotte climbs the trophy case with courage and the camera looks down on her father from her perspective instead of gazing up at him as the camera had done throughout the rest of the film. By giving her the Charlotte cake, the boys in a way gave Charlotte her sense of self. It was through engaging with this illicit indulgence in desserts that the characters in the film nourished their souls and became empowered. Works Cited A Feast at Midnight. Dir. Hardy, Justin. Kwai River Productions,1994.

A Celebration of Home by Olivia Holder This movie (first in the Lord of the Rings series) tells the story of a young hobbit named Frodo Baggins who embarks on a long journey to destroy a dangerous magic ring. The life of every creature in his world, Middle Earth, depends on his success. All are threatened by the imminent ascension to world dominance of “the dark Lord Sauron,” and only a journey over great mountains, through gloomy mines, and towards “a barren wasteland riddled with fire and ash and dust [where] the very air you breathe is a poisonous fume” can save them. Thus, the greatness and valor of the journey is emphasized, yet, at the same time, the purpose of this undertaking is to protect and maintain homes and lives from the dark shadow of Sauron’s rule. This film ultimately celebrates the simple pleasures of home, chief among them being food. The heroes of this tale are hobbits who, ironically, are known to be homebodies who spend their days eating seemingly endless rounds of food. It is curious, then, that the events of the story are set into motion by the adventure of Frodo’s uncle, the hobbit Bilbo Baggins. On this adventure, Bilbo found the ring of power and brought it home with him to the land of the hobbits, The Shire. When we are first introduced to Bilbo, the visit of his old friend, Gandalf the wizard, takes us into his home. As Gandalf makes his way into Bilbo’s home, he interacts with few items, but he does take time to pick up a map and linger on it, giving the camera the opportunity to look over Gandalf’s shoulder and giving the viewer a close up of a painstakingly drawn and careworn map of Bilbo’s first adventures. This shot, however, is interrupted by Bilbo offering to make Gandalf eggs and Gandalf’s reply that just tea would be fine. Moments later Bilbo walks over to the little round window of his hobbit hole and while looking out exclaims, “I want to see mountains again, Gandalf. Mountains! And then find a quiet place where I can finish my book.” His dreamy look is quickly replaced with a startled realization, and his very next line is “Oh, tea!” He then scurries over to the fire to retrieve the kettle of boiling water and pours it into a cup on the table. This scene is shown with a medium shot featuring the entirety of Bilbo’s delightful kitchen. The room is a warm yellow filled with natural sunlight and stocked with fresh loaves of bread; jars of honey; plates filled with tomatoes, generous wedges of cheese, muffins, and slices of toast; baskets overflowing with fresh produce; and a full supply of cooking implements such as pots and jars. These two scenes are examples of the movie’s consistent juxtaposition of adventure and food (and its connection to the home) and food’s triumph over wanderlust. The fear that fuels this adventure is that Sauron will “cover all the lands in a second darkness.” Midway through the movie, Frodo is reminded of his threat when he is given a chance to see into the future that will exist if he fails his task. He sees his home, the Shire, destroyed by the hand of Sauron. The green hills of are turned into a smoking wasteland, the market which once held displays of vegetables and meats is a pile of glowing embers, and the jolly hobbits are miserable, enchained slaves. With hobbits, the veneration of both food and the land are intimately linked. The start of the film features a voice over that is emphasized by an accompanying black screen. It claims, “The world is changed. I feel it in the water. I feel it in the earth. I smell it in the air.” This idea that the land conveys information, positive or negative, and evokes emotions exists in a world that maps the quality and enjoyableness of food onto its proximity to the land. The Shire is an insulated and self-sustaining place. In the same shot that meat is displayed at the market, the animals that are destined to fill the same stalls are shown roaming and feeding off the land. The produce from these self same markets fills Bilbo’s baskets in his kitchen. After welcoming him in the door, Bilbo proudly offers Gandalf “a bottle of the old vineyard,” a product of his land, that was “laid down by [his] father.” When the hobbits leave the Shire to embark on their journey, they fear the loss of their culture. Pippin worries that their traveling companion, the man Aragorn, does not observe all the meals that hobbits enjoy. With concern, in reference to breakfast he says, “We’ve had one, yes. What about second breakfast? What about elevenses? Luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, supper? He knows about those doesn’t he?” Away from the Shire and on the road, cultural identity based on food is in danger. The threat also looms that they themselves will become food. Bilbo describes his encounter with the trolls saying, “They were all arguing amongst themselves about how they were going to cook us. Whether it be turned on a spit or whether they should sit on us one by one and squash us to jelly.” This threat met the fellowship outside of the mines of Moria when tentacles shot out of the waters to grab the hobbits and an enormous lake monster reared its ugly head and opened its gaping mouth to eat them. In contrast to these fears and loos of culture that generally characterize life on the road, one of the greatest moments of fraternity and harmony of the tenuously connected fellowship occurred on passage south. There, as a hobbit, Sam, cooked a very typical hobbit fare of sausages, tomatoes, chicken, and bread, around him, the fellowship, in a rare display of unity, jokes, teaches, and cheer each other on. Although a path of discord, fighting, and danger awaits them, in this section of their road, a homelike atmosphere pervades as the aromas of sizzling food sweetened the crag of their camp. Towering over martial prowess or the evil forces that encroach, this scene of great accord, celebrates the very lifestyle that the journey seeks to protect. Around the pot, adventure is tamed and simplicity and harmony rule.

The Secret to Beating a Master Chef by Katelyn Liu Final Recipe is Gina Kim’s 2013 Singaporean-Chinese film centered on the story of Yihan, a young chef who travels to compete in a MasterChef-like competition to save his grandfather’s restaurant. It should be noted that Grandfather Lee’s restaurant is not failing due to poor cooking, in his words, “People don’t appreciate food. They don’t want food. They want a circus.” For the traditionalist, compromising the integrity of his cooking to attract patrons through ostentatious cuisine was too great a tradeoff. Thus, Yihan travels to Beijing and joins the flashiest stage of culinary competition to beat out the world-renown chef, Hanwei. In these three generations—Grandfather Lee, Hanwei, and Yihan—the source of their cooking talent are all rooted in the same kitchen where smell, taste, and memories were all part of their culinary educations. However, amidst the tumultuous clash between the traditional and the refined, Yihan present a hybrid of both cooking styles to remind the upper echelon of chefs that cooking for the ones you love bring the most flavor and depth to one’s cooking. Throughout the film, Yihan seems like an unlikely contender in a cooking competition filled with professionally trained chefs. Yet, round after round, Yihan’s choices to simplify dishes and focus on flavor, or to elevate peasant dishes by highlighting the simplicity of its ingredients, beats out dishes with expensive ingredients and complicated executions, leading him to be the final contestant to face the master chef, Hanwei. For Yihan and Hanwei, their roots in cooking begin in the same place, Grandfather Lee’s kitchen, but diverge to distinctly demonstrate Yihan’s affinity towards food and Hanwei’s obligation to his prestige. After a long day of competing, Yihan cooks the remaining ingredients for the rest of the contenders, making a pork stir-fry (Figure 1). Using a wok over an open flame, a cooking method that is rarely seen in a sterile, Michelin-starred kitchen, he produces his dish. This dish brings Julia Lee, the television producer who first discovered Hanwei, to reminisce the humble beginnings where she found Hanwei laboring over the same open flame in his father’s kitchen. Alternatively, Hanwei is seen in his dark apartment, alone. When asked what he ate for dinner, he replies, “pizza delivery.” The stark contrast between the Yihan’s laborious cooking in love and Hanwei’s detached and solitary meal indicates that the chef’s years of training has thinned the joy and passion that originated from cooking for his son. In the end, the three generations of talented chefs are reunited (Figure 3). Yihan has the opportunity to pursue his passion for cooking while Hanwei’s cooking is reinvigorated beyond his years of training and experience. The presence of his family, which he once believed to be dead, revived within him the intense passion he once has; now, he had a purpose and a family worth cooking for. The humility and resolve to abide in the traditional and love-filled cooking that was borne out of a family restaurant was able to overcome out every other qualified contestant in the competition and ultimately reassemble a family that was once broken. Work Cited Final Recipe. Dir. Gina Kim. By Gina Kim. Perf. by Michelle Yeoh and Henry Lau. CJ Entertainment. 2013.

The Ultimate Form of Trust is Food by Sara Junuzovic The French Dispatch is a 2021 film directed, created, and produced by Wes Anderson. It’s an anthology that is separated into three parts, with each part depicting a story from a newspaper publishing organization. Food is continuously mentioned throughout the film, and its significance grows with each part. In the first segment, titled “The Concrete Masterpiece,” the film masterfully portrays food as a multifaceted element; both as a negotiator’s currency and as communicating his emotions. The art dealer’s bribery with food to establish contact with Rosenthaler, and artist serving a life sentence for murder, highlights the idea that items we hold in high esteem have the power to influence and compel. For Rosenthaler, food becomes a means of communicating his emotions within the confines of his prison cell by using food as an art medium. Anderson accentuates this by rendering his paintings in color amidst the otherwise dreary prison scenes, demonstrating how, even removed from its traditional role of sustenance, food can serve as a feast for the soul when life’s comforts are stripped away. In the second segment, “Politics/ Poetry”, Anderson again reiterates how food goes beyond sustenance, as the act of sharing meals becomes a symbolic representation of shared values and aspirations. Whether it’s friends acting as matchmakers or efforts to unite opposing sides, Anderson explains how eating food with other people is pivotal in interpersonal relationships. As “Politics/ Poetry” unfolds, the communal dining, and the dining scenes in general, become a catalyst for broader social cohesion. For example, the cafe emerges as a crucial backdrop where student revolutionaries not only confide in each other but plot their uprising. This deliberate choice by Anderson highlights the theme of unity. By showcasing characters engaged in camaraderie around food, he emphasizes the role of dining in fostering connections and trust within the community. The final portion of the film, titled “Tastes & Smells” where Anderson emphasizes how food is the biggest form of trust. This story is narrated by Roebuck Wright where he describes how a cook, who is also a prominent Lieutenant, helps his boss’ child escape from his kidnappers. Wright also states how “[he has] so often shared the day’s glittering discoveries with no one at all. But there was always, somewhere along the avenue or the boulevard, there was a table set for [he]” implying that food is company itself, and a source of comfort during times of need. However, Anderson also emphasizes how cooking itself is highly important when establishing trust with Lieutenant Nescaffier’s story. It is only food that’s in color during the Lieutenant’s story emphasizing the idea that in life when everything else is imposing a burden, it is food that is able to take those burdens away. However, along with taking burdens away, Anderson also emphasizes how food is able to take our lives away. In order to help the child get away, the cook prepares a feast for the captors under the disguise of making it for the child. By displaying poison as food, he reiterates how food is the biggest form of trust, or lack-thereof, and life and death itself. In The French Dispatch, food helps shape narratives, emotions, and relationships. Anderson’s use of food highlights its symbolic significance as a feast for the soul, catalyst for unity, and a disguise for both comfort and danger. Through this, he reveals the profound interconnection between food and the human condition. The French Dispatch. Dir. Wes Anderson. American Empirical Pictures, 2021.

Freedom and Fried Green Tomatoes by Eileen Quinn The 1991 film Fried Green Tomatoes, based upon southern novelist Fannie Flagg’s Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café, tells the story of Evelyn Couch, a middle-aged woman who is unsatisfied with her marriage and finds a friend in Ninny Threadgoode, an extroverted eighty-two year old woman who lives in a nursing home. Ninny encourages Evelyn to take control of her life through diet, work, and self-confidence when dealing with her neglectful husband. Most of the film, however, takes place in the nineteen-twenties and thirties as Ninny recounts tales of an impish girl called Idgie Threadgoode. Viewers see Idgie’s magic both in the present, as Idgie – masquerading as Ninny – helps Evelyn find happiness in life, and in the past, as she befriends Ruth Jamison. The story of Idgie’s friendship with Ruth is the central plot of the film and is deeply imbedded with food imagery. Food and cooking are prevalent in the film both as a symbol and means of empowerment for women. In the nineteen-eighties, Evelyn learns to treat herself well and gains self-confidence as she alters her eating habits and takes control of her life. In the nineteen-twenties, Idgie’s café is a symbol of her strength and also the means through which Ruth learns to love herself in the wake of her husband’s abuse. A single young woman living in the nineteen-twenties seems an unlikely café owner, and yet the Whistle Stop Café thrives. Ruth grows to be truly happy as she helps Idgie with the cooking and serving of their food; her transformation illustrates the healing effect of good food on a downtrodden heart, a prevalent theme in the movie. In the still above, Ruth and Idgie have just had a food fight over Ruth’s criticism of Idgie’s poorly made fried green tomatoes. The light streaming in through the window brings a warm, lighthearted atmosphere to the kitchen; the angle of the shot, while wide enough to capture both Ruth and Idgie, shows Ruth standing tall, proud, and happy. In this moment, viewers see just how drastically Idgie and the Whistle Stop Café have changed Ruth’s outlook on life. The tomatoes that Idgie has thrown into the air can be seen as their cares having been thrown to the wind. The types of food involved in the fight are also significant. Idgie is covered in chocolate cake batter, while Ruth has fresh blackberries and some flour smeared onto her face. Blackberries and flour are both natural, pure substances, a fact which very likely did not go unnoticed by the filmmakers. These down-to-earth foods are plausibly symbolic of Ruth’s sweet disposition. The cake batter is a rich, decadent, and very indulgent kind of food, so perhaps it can be viewed as an embodiment of Idgie’s rebellious steak. The laughter that the two are sharing has an even clearer meaning: that their time spent at the café has served to bring Ruth and Idgie closer than ever. But why fried green tomatoes? Ruth could have criticized any dish of Idgie’s, and in the eighties, Evelyn chooses to make fried green tomatoes instead of a cake for Ninny’s birthday. Throughout the film, it seems as though the fried green tomatoes are some kind of goal that needs to be realized before one can be truly happy. The tomatoes are not mentioned in the café until Ruth has already adjusted to and happy with her new life with Idgie; Evelyn does not cook the fried green tomatoes until she’s overcome the ups and downs of her struggle for self confidence. Viewers then come to realize that Idgie’s fried green tomatoes are the embodiment of the women’s strength and their freedom to be happy. This realization brings a new level of meaning to Idgie and Ruth’s food fight; their game, started by the fried green tomatoes, is the culmination of the film’s overarching theme that food is a form of empowerment for Idgie, Ruth, and Evelyn.

Evil and Good Through Food by Alexis Rose Within movies, there are cues to help the audience figure out who are the good guys and who are the bad guys. The film Gekijouban Toriko: Bishokushin no Special Menu (2013) uses food as a means of showing evil and good. The film is based on a television series called Toriko about Toriko who is a gourmet food hunter. He takes expeditions to find and eat the world’s best ingredients. He usually travels with his friend Komatsu and they work together to create a delicious full-course menu. Toriko works for the International Gourmet Organization (IGO). In the movie and the television series they have secured research areas called Biotopes. As Toriko and his friends enter a Biotope known as Acacia’s kitchen, they are surprised to see a vast amount of rare ingredients and creatures, including the Corona sunflower. Ayame is a woman who lives in this Biotope and is in charge of watching over it. This particular biotope was created for researching ruins preserved within. In other words, IGO works to collect and protect rare ingredients and creatures. The way IGO handles food already indicates that Toriko is a good person. In their first encounter, Toriko tries to stop Girim before he can destroy any rare ingredients. After Girim unleashes the rare creature the wolf fire dragon, or Endros, Toriko says his catch phrase, “With thanks to all the ingredients in the world, let’s eat,” before he and his friends defeat Endros. Toriko was planning on eating Endros together with all of his friends. Later on, Toriko says that eating the nectar of the Corona sunflower Ayame worked hard to raise and Komatsu risked his life to protect filled his stomach, but corrects himself saying it satisfied his heart. Also, despite the fact that Toriko spent most of the movie fighting against Girim, Toriko yells for someone to hurry and get him something to eat after seeing he was still alive. All of the above examples show how Toriko really treasures his friends and the food that could be eaten with them. In contrast to Toriko, Girim’s interactions with food define him as the bad guy. His first interaction with food in the film is when he destroys all of the Corona sunflowers. Girim waits until Toriko and the others use their last strength to beat Endros and then eats it all in one big gulp. Girim and Ayame joined forces in the past, working to create a full course menu of their own. The Corona sunflower was the first ingredient they decided to add to it and the Corona sunflower was going to be their hors d’oeuvre. He forgot about wanting to eat delicious food with Ayame and now only wants to make a full course menu that will be the best in the world. The picture shows Girim after he partially became what he ate and that the Corona Sunflower is not good enough for him anymore. Ayame feeds Girim the remainder of the Corona sunflower when he is near death saving his life. After this point, his actions involving food are completely different becoming gentler. He says the Corona sunflower is the most delicious thing he has eaten in a while, because the emotion Ayame put into it while growing them reached his heart. When everyone is feasting later, his portion size is dramatically smaller and he takes smaller and multiple bites. Now that he treats food in a better way, he is not portrayed as bad anymore. At the end of the movie, he is seen with Ayame as they watch over a new field of Corona Sunflowers. Gekijouban Toriko Bishokushin no Special Menu. Akifumi Zako.

Eating to Erase in Get Out by Lan Vy Phan Jordan Peele’s “Get Out” is a horror film that explores societal and racial issues through a unique and unsettling lens. The story revolves around Chris, a Black photographer, who accompanies his white girlfriend, Rose, to her family’s estate for a weekend getaway. What initially appears as a friendly introduction to Rose’s seemingly welcoming family soon takes a sinister turn. Chris becomes increasingly uneasy as he encounters the peculiar behavior of the Armitage family’s Black servants and the predominantly white guests who have gathered for the As the weekend unfolds, Chris discovers the horrifying secrets lurking beneath the veneer of this seemingly “nice white family.” Amidst its myriad elements, one of the most disconcerting elements is the recurring motif of food, with a particular focus on tea, as a hypnotic device. Additionally, the concept of pseudo-cannibalism serves as a potent allegory for the exploitation of Black individuals by white society. These culinary symbols, when complemented by music, lighting, and choice of wardrobe, amplify the film’s central theme of racial exploitation. The use of tea as a hypnotic device permeates the film from the very start. When Chris first arrives at the Armitage estate, he, along with the rest of the family, is served sweet tea during a brief meal. The constant reassurance from the family that they are not racist masks a sinister plot, with Missy Armitage, a psychiatrist skilled in hypnotherapy, lulls Chris into a state of submission.While they are conversing, Missy begins to tap her glass. This tapping of the glass reoccurs when she meets with Chris late at night, and aims to get rid of his smoking addiction. The choice of eerie and hypnotic music during these scenes, coupled with Missy’s piercing gaze as well as the intense panning in of Chris’s face, amplifies the discomfort, reinforcing the sinister nature of these acts. Pseudo-cannibalism plays a pivotal role in the film’s climax as Chris confronts the Armitage family. The characters Georgina, the housekeeper, and Walter, the groundskeeper, are revealed to be Black individuals whose consciousness has been supplanted by the spirits of Rose’s grandfather and grandmother through a gruesome procedure known as “the Coagula.” This horrific act serves as a representation of the forced assimilation that Black communities undergo. Another instance of this is through the character, Logan King. Logan, whose original name was Dre and was once a vibrant and independent jazz artist, falls victim to a horrifying fate after marrying an older white woman. His transformation into a submissive and obedient servant is a stark embodiment of pseudo-cannibalism, seen primarily in his shifting mannerisms and wardrobe. Stripped of his agency and identity, Dre’s consciousness is overshadowed by the presence of a separate consciousness, and he only reverts back to his true identity when Chris takes a photo of him. Throughout the film, these culinary symbols, along with the carefully selected music, lighting, and wardrobe, serve as a compelling narrative device, underscoring the complexities of racial dynamics in society. Food-related symbolism is further enhanced by the choice of lighting, which juxtaposes the bright, seemingly inviting exteriors of the Armitage estate with the dark, ominous interiors, emphasizing the duality of appearances and deception. Get Out. Dir. Jordan Peele Perf. Daniel Kaluuya, Allison Williams, and Bradley Whiteford. Universal Pictures, 2017. Streaming.

Consumed: Perceptions of the Black Body by Genna Holtz Jordan Peele’s thriller Get Out (2017) offers a chilling metaphorical perspective on the lived experiences of black individuals in racialized America. The storyline of the protagonist Chris’s visit to and escape from his girlfriend Rose’s family home dominates, but every scene is laced with racial undertones that layer the film’s exploration of the body. The depiction of animals and black bodies as food is particularly illuminating in this discussion. Reoccurring similarities drawn between Chris and deer and rabbits as well as surprisingly small details suggest that racial inequality pervades in the United States. From the outset of the film, a parallel between black individuals and food animals is established. In the very first scene Jeremy, a white man, kidnaps Logan, a black man. During their struggle, Peele extradiagetically inserts a jovial song, Run, Run Rabbit. The contrast between the heaviness of the situation and the levity of the song adds a highly disturbing undercurrent to the mis-en-scene and forces audiences to question the director’s choice. The lyrics of the song read the following: ON THE FARM, EVERY FRIDAY ON THE FARM, IT’S RABBIT PIE DAY. SO, EVERY FRIDAY THAT EVER COMES ALONG, I GET UP EARLY AND SING THIS LITTLE SONG RUN RABBIT – RUN RABBIT – RUN! RUN! RUN! RUN RABBIT – RUN RABBIT – RUN! RUN! RUN! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! GOES THE FARMER’S GUN. RUN, RABBIT, RUN, RABBIT, RUN. RUN RABBIT – RUN RABBIT – RUN! RUN! RUN! DON’T GIVE THE FARMER HIS FUN! FUN! FUN! HE’LL GET BY WITHOUT HIS RABBIT PIE SO RUN RABBIT – RUN RABBIT – RUN! RUN! RUN! These unsettling words establish the relationship that viewers will parse out the remainder of the film. The rabbit represents black people persecuted by the farmer, the allegorical white race. This foreshadows that the Armitage family will try to catch Chris and use him for their demonic eugenics project. The metaphor of Chris as the rabbit is strengthened by the fact that the Armitages slyly serve a carrot-based dessert, carrot cake, to Chris on his first night at the house. Chris’s desperate flee from the Armitage plantation at the end of the film parallels the rabbit’s flee from the farmer. This message is furthered by a scene in which Chris empathizes with a creature meant to be consumed. On the way to the couple’s ‘meet the parents’ weekend, Rose, driving, accidentally hits a deer as it dashes across the road. After the initially shock, Rose sits in the car, and calls the police. She quickly recovers and has no further emotional response. Chris, on the other hand, is deeply shaken. Eerie extradiegetic tones louden, and the camera zooms in onto Chris’s face, keying the audiences into his precarious mental state. Unlike Rose, Chris exits the vehicle, and in a painfully tedious manner drawn out by tracking shots of his boots, finds the wounded animal on the side of the road. Point of view shots that flash rapidly between Chris’s eyes and the deer’s eyes to emphasize a uniquely emotional interaction. The framing of both creature and human eyes suggest that perhaps they see things in the same way. The intimacy of the cinematography and the contrasting responses of Rose and Chris in this scene further the parallel between deer and black individuals. Audiences can infer from such technique that Peele presents a claim that while deer are animals eaten and hunted by humans, black people are socially, culturally, and politically devoured by inequalities entrenched in American institutions, often propitiated by whites. When Rose and Chris tell the Armitages about hitting the deer, Mr. Armitage, later revealed to be a racist, conniving sociopath, responds, “One down, a couple hundred thousand to go…I do not like the deer…they’re taking over, they’re destroying the ecosystem, I see a dead deer on the side of the road and I think ‘that’s a start’” (Peele, 2017). His disregard for the wellbeing of the animal and myopic view of the event foreshadow his equally unforgiving attitude towards his black victims. More parallels between other black characters and deer reinforce this. A strong comparison that emerges between Chris’s mom and the wounded deer builds on this theory. Chris tells Rose that just before her death, “[his mom] lay there cold and alone on the side of the road…and there was time, [he] could have done something, but [he] did nothing” (Peele, 2017). The similarity between the death of his mother and the death of the deer hit by the car contribute the idea that both black individuals and deer are consumed. Additionally, just as the deer came at Chris in the car, Logan, a black man who has received Mr. Armitage’s brain transplant surgery, charges Chris to warn him. Later Chris reflects, “I didn’t know [Logan], but I knew the guy coming at me” (Peele, 2017). In this way Peele expertly crafts a black/animal narrative that underpins the unbearable moments of tension throughout the film. Other tiny details in the film key audiences into the story’s racial underpinnings and implicitly further Peele’s commentary. In the first few minutes of the movie, shots cross cut between Chris’s apartment and Rose, Chris’s girlfriend, picking up breakfast for the two of them at a bakery. In a particular shot, the camera pans over a case of all white pastries such as croissants, danishes, and cookies and then widens out to show Rose looming over them. Though this is a tiny detail, Peele could’ve displayed an array of foods, maybe included a brown dessert such as brownie but purposefully didn’t. This small detail shows Rose has preferential treatment for lightly colored things. Later, Mrs. Armitage stirs her tea with a spoon to heighten Chris’s suggestibility and send him to the “sunken place”. The silver spoon she uses to stir could be a reference to the phrase that a privileged people are “born with a silver spoon in their mouth”. This interaction therefore echoes previous suggestions that white people use their privilege to take advantage of black people by various means, such as cultural appropriation and preference in the eyes of the law. Lastly, after audiences discover Rose is a psychopath that has tricked a plethora of black people into relationships only to abuse their bodies and steal their consciousness, a frame centers her on her laptop. To her right lie a glass of milk and a bowl of fruit loops. Besides being incredibly odd (who doesn’t eat cereal the regular way) it is a subtle metaphor for her racism. Just as she doesn’t want to mix her milk and fruit loops, she wants to increase separation between races by viewing black people as other-than-human. She sips the milk generously, but she eats the colored cereal one at a time, just as she picks off her black victims one and a time. These small details reinforce Peele’s message about race in the US. Jordan Peele expertly uses cinematography to communicate through food racist perceptions of black bodies in America. He conveys the inequalities black people face by comparing their experience to that of animals typically consumed as food, such as deer and rabbits. Subtle references throughout the film exhibit Peele’s masterful use of food as a communication device, and heighten audiences’ sensitivity to the micro-aggressions they tolerate in their own lives. Work Cited Peele, Jordan, director. Get Out. Universal Pictures, 2017.

The Feast as a Representation of Grieving by Davin Lee Though death and not knowing what may come after is a common source of dread, the loss of the mortal, often trivial, comforts of life are what we fear the most. “That this is what we fear—no sight, no sound, No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with, Nothing to love or link with, The anesthetic from which none come round” (Larkin). What will it be like to be devoid of all we have known? It is a common philosophical idea that one cannot achieve eudaimonia, or a happy life, without living a just life in accordance with one’s values, but more importantly, sharing in life with others and the world around us. Whether it be as simple as sharing a meal with a loved one, or even sharing in a fiery argument, it is all a part of the experience we fear losing, and grieve when lost in those we love. Feasting is a significant part of that joy. Historically, the feast has celebrated both life and death in numerous cultures and religions. For instance, in Korean Buddhism, the ceremonial “Jesa” serves as a communal offering to those we have lost. It is one of the ways people have chosen to become interlinked with each other, and share in something greater than the individual. David Lowery’s A Ghost Story (2017) takes the tropes of feasting and creates its antithesis in a representation of visceral newfound loss. A Ghost Story attempts to portray the honest perspectives of both a widow grieving her late husband, and his ghost observing and reflecting from limbo as he tries to find solace and closure on his relationship with the world and his wife. The woman and her husband, only known to us as “M” and “C,” share an imperfect love. We learn that M grew up moving frequently, which instilled in her a sense of abandonment. She tells C that she used to hide notes in each house so that a piece of her was always there waiting if she ever desired to go back. Simple rhymes and poems that would remind her of the homes she had stayed in, as well as what pieces of her had grown there. C, a musician, is more resistant to change, whereas change is all M has ever known. He is firmly planted in the house and life he shares with his wife, and the disconnect in shared experiences begins to build tension as M wishes to move. C becomes passive, and M becomes frustrated by having to make the decisions they share responsibility for on her own. Though frustrated, and perhaps resentful, C gives in as his love for M is not worth straining for a mere change in scenery. Just a few days later, C dies unexpectedly from a car crash. C’s ghost begins to follow M as the numbness of shock subsides and C begins to feel a raw grief. In a harrowing scene about 24 minutes into the film, M arrives home from the hospital where C’s body was to find a pie left by their landlord. As she settles into her home without her husband, she decides to eat the pie in one sitting. The scene occurs entirely in the kitchen with only one cut, as she sits on the floor with the pie in hand. A full static shot is maintained throughout to evoke a “fly on the wall” effect, as the viewer begins to feel they are watching a moment too personal to be viewed. M sits on the floor and eats the pie one forkful at a time, with a deafening silence save for the sounds of the fork clanking against the pan and her chewing as she struggles to get the chunks of pie down. C’s ghost watches along slightly out of frame, completely still and with no way to communicate. Despite a lack of dialogue or expression, we intuitively understand the futility and pain he feels as he watches his widowed wife struggle to process her sadness. The scene ends as M rushes to the bathroom to throw up, still within frame of the same shot with C looking on. When we discuss feasting in modern culture, it is often celebratory in nature. As mentioned before, cultural feasts revolving around death often serve as communal remembrances of the departed. Lowery takes the idea of a feast as the physical manifestation of the anger, guilt, and loss M feels for C. It is a sort of anti-feast where there is food in excess, but consumed only by one; there are others in attendance, namely C, but M is nonetheless isolated. The scene does not feel as if M is honoring, or even mourning C, but rather consuming in bewilderment to fill the void that is growing in her soul; coping personified. The scene culminates in her throwing up, as suppression is only a temporary relief. The “feast” as it were, is a distraction from an aching pain that will eventually overflow and face M head on. The calm and composed veneer M has worn on her face up until this scene is beginning to crack. Feasting is an ambiguous concept, but that is exactly why juxtaposing archetypal concepts over more barren and nihilistic perspectives works. Going back to Larkin, M may still possess the ability to partake in consumption but she has lost its inherent meaning. There is a poignance to be found in the fact that she is not alone in the room, but she is completely and utterly alone in her sorrow. Both M and C lack the closure they need to move on, as C’s abrupt death left their relationship frozen in a sort of perpetual deadlock. It is only when M accepts her memories of her late husband as a lasting piece of her, and learns to begin new chapters in her life, can she finally move on, leaving one last note in her old home. Yet, C still remains stuck, unable to interact with the world around him, and unable to fully die. The feast is symbolic of our connections to people. The more empty chairs there are at the table, the closer you are to metaphorical death. Lowery doesn’t believe in a solitary feast. Humanity and warmth are only portrayed in scenes of sharing, whether it be food or time spent together, and suffering is only shown in scenes of isolation. To Lowery, the feast is an extension of what connections you have formed or lost. In a second scene 53 minutes into the film, we are introduced to a mother and her two children that have moved into M and C’s old home. We now see the archetypal feast. Perhaps not grand or opulent, but a good meal shared between family in a seemingly joyous occasion. C is deeply angered by this and begins to haunt the family, throwing cups full of milk and plates from the cupboard around the kitchen as the family hides in a state of confusion. While M may have been able to eventually process her grief, C has yet to accept his life as the finite thing it was. He watches this family, which could have easily been his in a few years, enjoy the meal and the laughter he should have shared with a family of his own. C is forced to spend an eternity through all of time watching the plot of land that was his home come and go. Once he accepts the beauty and pain all have experienced, he can see the events of his life play through one more time. In the end, he is returned back to his home, where he finds the note M left, and the sheets that made his ghostly frame collapse to the ground. Lowery acknowledges the feast as representative of the loving, intimate, and celebratory moments in life. But he also recognizes that without the passion of sharing with one another, all a feast is is a reminder of just how empty you are. All the food and wine in the world in an empty hall would only bring resentment, sorrow, and grief. It is the exploration of how food represents human connection, and the deep value we place in simple collective acts, that makes this film so beautiful and achingly painful to watch at the same time. A Ghost Story. Dir. David Lowery. Perf. Casey Affleck, Rooney Mara. A24, 2017. Streaming. Hursthouse, Rosalind, and Glen Pettigrove. “Virtue Ethics.” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, Stanford University, 11 Oct. 2022, plato.stanford.edu/entries/ethics-virtue/.

Friday Night Fights by Sara Junuzovic Gilmore Girls is a TV show that owes its existence to the concept of a family dinner. The Gilmore girls—Emily (the grandmother), Lorelai (the mother), and Rory (the daughter)—manage to stay connected throughout the years with their weekly Friday night dinners. However, it is questionable whether any of the Gilmores, including Richard (the grandfather), really enjoy these dinners. Not a single pair has a healthy or stable relationship with one another, not even Rory and Lorelai, who are meant to be inseparable and the mother-daughter duo every girl looks up to. They constantly fight, yell, lie, manipulate, and betray one another, but the dinners still persist. This Friday dinner episode comes at a time where the family hadn’t met up for a while as they have each hurt one another in such a way that they did not think their dynamic was salvageable. As this episode is two thirds into the season, the tension has been building for a while. Lorelai, however, decided this was not appropriate and enticed them all to meet up. Although virtually none of them want to have the dinner, they still do it, because it’s a Friday night and what else would they do? Almost immediately after sitting down for just the pre-dinner drinks, arguments ensue. Lorelai reminds them that they’re not allowed to escape, as they must eat their dinner. However, this is where the audience also understands that the dinner will be unlike any other. This is denoted by the shaky camera movements that no Friday night dinner has ever had on the show previously. The Gilmores fight and yell, but before things can get ugly, the salad comes. Lorelai’s excitement over the salad stands out from their typical behavior as the Gilmore girls hate everything that’s not processed. However, due to her desire for a “normal” family dinner she treats it as though it’s the most wonderful meal ever placed before her. The salad prompts the beginning of their usual dynamic but as it’s only an appetizer it fails to keep the peace going. The arguments start back up again, bringing up past disagreements that the family failed to properly discuss previously. Surprisingly, the viewer doesn’t even see the main course being brought out by the maid, something that is a usual formality of the show. Furthermore, the Gilmores don't comment about the main course which emphasizes their collective distress as the food is not able to bring them together at that moment. Typically the family is able to put aside their differences and appreciate their dinner as this is normally the only time of the week they speak to each other; however, the course fails at its purpose this time. Nevertheless, dessert comes and all is well again. They’re polite, gracious, and cordial towards each other— a true rarity in most of the family’s scenarios but not a rarity when food is involved. Finally, the episode ends with Lorelai stating “Well… I think we’ve officially reinstated Friday Night Dinner.” This episode served as a reminder to the audience that the show would not exist without their Friday night dinners. From the start to the end, their dinners bring together love and hate. Title of film, ie. insert film citation here.

A Deep-Fried Korean Thanksgiving by Leslie Ann Blake Gilmore Girls revolves around the mother-daughter relationship of Lorelai and Rory, who live in a small town in Connecticut. Lorelai had Rory and ran away from her affluent parents at age sixteen, determined to make a life without any help. When Rory is sixteen, she is accepted into a prep school that will help achieve her dream of going to Harvard. To help fund this education, Lorelai must reconcile with her parents, who demand that the girls come to a weekly dinner as their part of the bargain. The most consistent friend in Lorelai’s life—and, coincidentally, the person who feeds her the most—is Luke, the gruff owner of the town’s dinner who begrudgingly brews endless pots of coffee and makes countless unhealthy meals, despite his wish that the girls would eat healthy. The first and last scene of the series is in Luke’s Diner with Luke cooking for Rory and Lorelai, implying this is the natural order of things. Just as her eating habits show, Lorelai does not always know what’s best for her. Early in the series, Lorelai resists thinking of Luke romantically, and all of Luke’s attempts to express his feelings are cut short before Lorelai notices. This episode takes place in this slowly budding stage of their romance. By the end of the series, the couple has had many ups and downs, but Luke remains the most consistent man in Lorelai’s life and it is strongly implied that they are finally together for good. In the Thanksgiving episode of the third season (2002) of Gilmore Girls, “A Deep-Fried Korean Thanksgiving,” the girls are invited to four dinners. The meals are quite diverse: lunch at the Kims’ (Rory’s best friend’s home), an afternoon turkey fry at the home of Jackson and Sookie (Lorelai’s best friend), a meal at the diner with Luke and his nephew Jess (Rory’s boyfriend), and the obligatory cocktail and elegant meal at Lorelai’s parents’ home. To make the night easier on their stomachs, Lorelai decides to turn down Luke’s invitation. In a classic instance of Lorelai underestimating Luke’s feelings, she assumes, “He won’t care. Holidays are nothing to him, anyway.” Later, the girls not only attend his dinner, but return after the evening is over. This turns out to be the true feast of the evening. As the viewers are prepared throughout the series to accept Luke as Lorelai’s true love, so too they are prepared to accept Luke as the true provider of the feast.

Peeling Layers of an Onion by Hien Le A glass onion is something that is “densely layered but the center is in plain sight,” and also the namesake for the 2022 mystery film by Rian Johnson. Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery puts a twist on the classic whodunit mystery, akin to the game of Clue, as the audience follows along the movie to figure out the mystery alongside the characters within the movie. Food in this film is used to distract the characters and also the audience from the truth of what is happening. Johnson lays everything out clearly from the beginning; it is up to the audience, and characters, to catch on to the little details to see the truth. Similar to an onion, layers of a mystery are traditionally “peeled” back towards the end to reveal the truth, but Johnson’s twist is laying it all clearly from the beginning like a “glass onion.” In a broader sense, “a glass onion” has come to represent something that is complex and multifaceted, with many layers that can be peeled away to reveal deeper meanings or the truth. With the truth behind this whole mystery is Miles Bron, a narcissistic tech billionaire, who is always at the center of everything in the film. As Helen and Blanc peel back the layers of this “onion,” the truth stares at them the whole time—Bron has always been at the center of it. Starting from the beginning, Johnson showed the audience who the glass onion was truly connected to, with his island residence having a structure that clearly resembles an onion entirely made out of glass (Figure 1). Then murders were rudimentary, as if they were committed by a bumbling idiot, from Bron clearly switching glasses with Duke to trigger his deathly pineapple allergy (Figure 2) to driving away from Andi’s home after he kills her in his incredibly recognizable car, his “baby blue.” With Duke’s death, all Bron did was switch their cups, so his spectacle of him saying someone must have poisoned him, it only takes one careful look to see that Bron just handed Duke his glass filled with pineapple juice. Then with Andi’s death, he was seen driving away from the scene of the crime in his ever-so recognizable “baby blue,” and Bron thought he was scot-free from being connected with the crime due to his arrogance. Using other elements of the film, from props to the framing of scenes, Johnson clearly created a smokescreen to prevent the audience from seeing the “truth” until he decided it was time for the truth to be revealed. The characters, along with the audience, have been, essentially, gaslit into not believing what was presented right in front of their eyes. Leading to the title of “glass onion,” because even without the layers peeled back, the truth was always right at the center of everything. Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery. Dir. Rian Johnson Perf. Daniel Craig, Edward Norton, Janelle Monae. Netflix, 2022 Streaming.

Food: Reflection and Community by Jalen Heyward Overall this film exemplified how food can bring joy, community, and represent the people that consume it. Good Burger, directed by Dan Schneider, is a comedic film about two co-workers strengthening their friendship through trying to save their beloved fast food restaurant “Good Burger”. The main character Dexter, is a teenager who needs money to pay for damages he caused when he crashed his mother’s car. Dexter applies for a job at a massive food restaurant entitled Mondo Burger. Dexter’s personality clashes with Kurt, the manager of Mondo Burger, and he gets fired. After Dexter is fired, he goes across the street to Good Burger and orders milkshakes to combat his depression. While at Good Burger, Dexter meets Ed, who is a goofy, simple minded cashier who is passionate in his work. Ed ends up getting Dexter a job at Good Burger. Mondo Burger officially opened the next day, and the size of the individual patty was twice as large as the Good Burger patty. Mondo Burger starts to bring in more customers away from Good Burger foreshadowing their restaurant going out of business. One day, Dexter discovers that Ed makes his own sauce that was amazing. Dexter told Ed to put the sauce on the burgers to gain their customers back. As the customers start to come back, Dexter makes Ed sign a contract that allowed him to receive 80% of Ed’s profit from the sauce. After the sauce was implemented, Good Burger started to regain its popularity. The manager of Mondo Burger attempts to replicate Ed’s Sauce however he fails. He then tries to bribe Ed to give him the recipe, however Ed was so loyal to Good Burger that he does not confess. One day Dexter and Ed analyze a Mondo Burger and try to figure out why they are so large. They sneak into Mondo Burger’s kitchen and find out that they have been adding illegal chemicals to the meat in order to make the patties bigger. After Dexter and Ed figure out their secret, the manager locks them away in a mental hospital. While they are locked away, the manager of Mondo Burger poisons Ed’s Sauce over night. Right before Good Burger Opens, Dexter and Ed escape the mental prison just in time to dispose of the poisoned Ed sauce, and pour all of the illegal chemicals into Mondo Burger’s meat grinder, causing the burgers to get so large that the restaurant explodes.In the end, Dexter receives his money, the Mondo Burger manager goes to jail, and Ed is no longer considered as the goofball but a hero. Food in this film, especially the “Good Burger”, is used to bring aspects of joy, belonging and community. It is ironic how Good Burger brought Ed and Dexter together because Ed indirectly caused Dexters accident. While Ed was making a delivery on roller skates, he darted across Dexter while he was driving and caused him to swerve and crash his mother’s car. Ed’s passion in the fast food restaurant is an example of how food can ignite joy. Ed was so passionate in the Good Burger restaurant because he genuinely enjoyed the burgers and serving people. Ed was so passionate that he was never in a scene without this uniform and hat. Although money was an incentive for Dexter, Good Burger gave Dexter not only friends for life, but a new outlook and motive in life. I think the food within this film represented the people. The patties and other ingredients within the good burger were authentic reflecting the genuine and authentic personalities of the workers. Mondo Burger on the other hand used illegal ingredients to make their burgers bigger and taste better. The manager of Mondo Burger reflected the grimey, and fake ingredients placed into their burgers because he was all about the profit of the company and not the health and satisfaction of his customers in general. Dexter within this film is a dynamic character because he initially is shallow and only cares about profit when he starts out at Mondo Burger, but as he starts to work at Good Burger, his actions start to reflect the authenticity and genuine care put into the good burgers. He starts to see this when he is profiting more money off of Ed, but he realizes how innocent and genuine Ed is and discovers that integrity and friendship is more important than his profit. Overall Good Burger showed how food can be used as a tool of synergy, happiness, and a reflection of others.

"Leave the Gun. Take the Cannoli": Food's Connection to Violence in The Godfather by Christina Polge The Godfather, a 1974 film based on the book of the same name, is a love letter to familial bonds. It follows the Corleones, an Italian-American family involved in organized crime, focusing on the corruption of Michael Corleone as he tries to protect his family in the face of violence. His father, Vito Corleone, is the head of the family until he is brutally attacked, and Michael is forced to take on more responsibilities to provide protection. He commits his first murder in a restaurant surrounded by food on Don Corleone’s behalf. In The Godfather, food is a representation of family, whether it be fruit, desserts, sauce or veal. It symbolizes survival, love and loyalty. Because of the characters’ violent actions to preserve the family, food becomes intertwined with violence throughout the film. Oranges in The Godfather foreshadow violent moments despite their bright and typically hopeful connotation, illustrating that the Corleone family’s only hope is to continue perpetuating the violent cycle for their own survival. Oranges’ symbolic connection to violence is most evident when Don Corleone is shot in the street as he shops for groceries (The Godfather 45:00-46:00). Corleone is taking care of his family in a traditional way during that moment by going to find food. Right before he is attacked, he asks specifically for oranges, a nourishing and bright fruit. They are the same color set right next to the fire at the market, representing that there is little distance between communal hope and destructive violence for the Corleone family. Then, when he is shot, the oranges spill out of his bag and into the street, showing that he is losing his ability to provide for others. Even though Corleone survives this incident, his role in the family is permanently changed. His sons take over being heads of the family, while he begins spending more quality time with his grandchildren. His death is one of the more peaceful moments of the film despite its tragic nature (The Godfather 2:30:25-2:32:58). He has a heart attack while playing with Anthony, Michael’s son, in his garden, surrounded by food that is grown, not hunted. Before he dies, he puts an orange peel in his mouth and smiles at his grandson, in a way that is meant to playfully scare him. Since his death breaks him out of the cycle of violence, Corleone’s last interaction with oranges is one of hopeful finality. Despite their initial relationship with violence’s ties to the family, oranges evolve to represent a hope and escape from it. The presence of dessert throughout The Godfather represents the family’s purity during brutal violence. Cannoli is a powerful symbol in The Godfather. Peter Clemenza, one of Don Corleone’s oldest friends and most trusted caporegimes, instructs Rocco Lampone to clean up the scene after they murder someone on the road by saying “Leave the gun. Take the cannoli” (The Godfather 57:50-58:11). He is encouraging Lampone to abandon the violence and leave it contained while bringing the tradition of the family with him, the sentiment that inspired the violence in the first place. Cannoli itself is typically a representation of fertility and creation (Petroni). Its presence in this crucial moment shows that this type of violence creates life. The cannoli are hidden in a white box and covertly taken out of the car, showing that the sanctity of family is shielded from destruction because of preemptive violent action. The dessert originated in Sicily, where the Corleones are from, so it is a respectful symbol of the family’s roots (Petroni). This moment is Lampone’s official induction into the Corleone family because of his loyalty to tradition, honor and reinforcement of purity by committing violent acts. The box of cannoli remains distinct from bloodshed because it symbolizes the sacred institution of family that the Corleones are always fighting to uphold, oftentimes literally. Communal eating throughout The Godfather is a way of presenting the connection between members of the family strengthened by the destruction they cause for each other, showing that food and violence are both protective. Clemenza teaches Michael how to make his sauce at the same time he and other senior members of the family are teaching Michael how to be violent on behalf of the family as well. Clemenza tells Michael, “Come over here, kid, learn something” (The Godfather 59:09). By addressing him as “kid”, Clemenza is already introducing this familial, nurturing aspect above all else. Clemenza continues, “You get it to a boil, you shove in all your sauces and your meatballs. Add a little bit of wine. And a little bit of sugar. That’s my trick” (The Godfather 59:30-59:40). His descriptions of the actions to prepare the sauce are violent. However, he ends the recipe with wine and sugar. Wine has religious and ritualistic connotations, while sugar is sweet, white pure. This recipe shows the duality of violence and community inherent in the Corleone family’s life. Once Clemenza has given Michael the recipe, Sonny comes over and dips a piece of bread in the sauce to try it. The sauce is red like blood, so When Sonny breaks the bread before dipping it, he connects the moment to Communion (The Godfather 1:00:02). This action foreshadows his death, and the religious tie shows that the institution of family is sacred to the Corleones through the intersection of food and violence. Violence at the table is presented as incredibly brutal in The Godfather, showing that brutality is a violation of the feast and therefore an even bloodier action than violence in any other context. When Michael Corleone takes Sergeant McClusky and Virgil Sollozzo out to eat at Louis’ Italian Restaurant before ultimately killing both, he reaches his point of no return after trying to avoid corruption from his family (The Godfather 1:24:20-1:30:14). Sergeant McClusky breaks the feast literally in his death because he falls directly forward into the table and ruins the setting. Also, Michael shoots him directly in the throat which would ruin his ability to eat regardless of whether he survived. That level of violence is a direct betrayal of the feast, translating to Michael betraying himself as well. He continues the twisted cycle because he is violent to protect his own family and provide for them by ensuring that Sollozo and McClusky are punished for their actions. However, he is encouraging their families to reciprocate against him again as well. The restaurant they are at is significant as well because Louis’ Italian Restaurant serves an Americanized version of Italian food, much like how the Corleones have become more violent for their survival in the United States. Their family has been morphed into something inauthentic to succeed, almost like the dishes the restaurant is serving for profit. But those who benefit from this cyclical violence endorse it, such as Sollozo. After McClusky asks whether the Italian food is good, he replies, “Try the veal, it’s the best in the city” (The Godfather 1:24:32). The process of making veal is an inhumane, violent one even though the meat is traditionally Italian. The meat comes from calves who are only a few months old, initially innocent creatures who are murdered and corrupted in their death, then eaten (The Humane League). Michael’s journey parallels the cattle in this moment because he is losing his innocence through violence and murder. In protecting his family by destroying the feast, he is abandoning himself. In The Godfather, food lives and breathes just like the characters do. Its duality in supporting violence and protecting the family from it reflects the central conflict of the film. Food is sacred and essential, much like how the Corleone family relies on violence to survive. The two are then intrinsically tied. However, violence directed towards food and the feast is clearly a deep disrespect towards the family. Corleone daughter Connie has an abusive relationship with her husband Carlo, the man she marries at the beginning of the movie. She attempts to cook for him the same way that her family cooks for her, but he refuses to respect the ritual of it and tells her he is not hungry (The Godfather 1:54:19-1:56:05). Even though he expects her to provide for him, he does not reciprocate and is consistently unfaithful, betraying their marriage and family. When she begins destroying the table setting by breaking plates, the deep betrayal of the feast represents their connection breaking as well. Overall, the messy, interconnected relationship between food and violence in the film signifies that violence is necessary for the family’s survival, just like food. The Godfather. Dir. Francis Ford Coppola. Paramount Pictures, 1972. Petroni, Agostino. “The Erotic Origins of Italy’s Most Famous Sweet.” BBC Travel, BBC, 25 Feb. 2022, www.bbc.com/travel/article/20210113-the-erotic-origins-of-italys-most-famous-sweet. The Humane League, League. “VEAL: WHAT ANIMAL DOES IT COME FROM AND WHY IS IT CRUEL?” The Humane League, 5 Oct. 2021, thehumaneleague.org/article/veal-animal.

The Weaponization of Food by Emily Shih David Fincher's 2014 psychological thriller "Gone Girl" is a masterful exploration of a toxic marriage, manipulation, and deception. Among its many elements that contribute to its unsettling atmosphere, food plays a significant role in both revealing and concealing the true nature of the characters. One of the most striking uses of food in the film is as a tool of control and manipulation. Amy Dunne (Rosamund Pike), the film's enigmatic and complex antagonist, employs food to assert dominance over her husband, Nick (Ben Affleck). Early in the film, she prepares a lavish breakfast, complete with heart-shaped pancakes, as part of her elaborate anniversary treasure hunt. This serves as a façade, a well-orchestrated performance of the perfect wife, obscuring her sinister intentions. As the plot unfolds, Amy's manipulation continues as she stages her own disappearance. She meticulously plans her route, leaving behind traces of food items to create a narrative that paints Nick as a neglectful husband. This is a twisted use of food as a weapon, turning the act of eating and preparing meals into a form of emotional warfare. The film also portrays food as a symbol of societal expectations and image management. Nick and Amy's image as a perfect, happy couple is carefully constructed, and they go to great lengths to maintain it. This is exemplified in the scene where Nick visits Amy in the hospital and they share Chinese takeout. The outward appearance of normalcy contrasts sharply with their underlying turmoil, illustrating the façade that food can create in relationships. Furthermore, the film presents food as a means of maintaining appearances for the public. At a press conference, Nick takes a bite of a sandwich on camera to prove his innocence. The act of eating in front of the media is a performance, a way of conforming to societal norms and demonstrating his composure. In "Gone Girl," food serves as a multifaceted symbol of control, deception, and the maintenance of societal image. It's used to mask the characters' true intentions and emotions while revealing the intricate dynamics of their marriage. David Fincher's deft use of food as a narrative device underscores the film's exploration of the masks we wear in our relationships and the power of appearances in our image-conscious society. Food becomes a powerful, though often overlooked, element that adds depth and complexity to the story, making it an essential component of the film's narrative tapestry. Gone Girl. David Fincher. 20th Century Fox, 2014.

Substance Over Appearance by Christian Villacres “Everyone can become God of Cookery. Even parents, brothers, sisters, and lovers, as long as they have heart.” ~ Stephen “The God of Cookery” Chow Stephen Chow’s film, The God of Cookery (1996), conveys the story of an arrogant man who proclaims himself ‘The God of Cookery’, while secretly knowing very little about the culinary arts. In reality, the protagonist of the film, Stephen, is a skilled con-man who finds success by grossly overcharging customers for his tasteless food. Upon being publicly denounced by Bull Tong, an actual chef, for being a fraud, Stephen experiences his very own ‘fall from grace’. Bull Tong then goes as far as to claim his position as The God of Cookery for himself. The remainder of the film covers Stephen’s quest for redemption with the aid of a group of companion that each have an important lesson to offer. Making attractive plates was one of Stephen’s skills as The God of Cookery. In addition to making poorly prepared food appear delectable through clever plating and marketing schemes, Stephen also secretly hired actors to taste his food and exclaim how unbelievably delicious it was. All in all, Stephen was a far better businessman than a chef. Stephen even goes as far as to steal an entire recipe for an assorted noodles dish from a street vendor, Turkey, after criticizing it for being tasteless, unattractive, and unsanitary. Ironically, this very dish would be his undoing, as it was the dish that was picked apart by Bull Tong for being visibly appealing, but nothing more. This conflict is what inspires arguably the most important lesson learned by Stephen, which is to not take everything at its face value. Following his fall from grace, Stephen returns to the vendor he stole from as a panhandler. In response to his unstinting critique of Turkey’s assorted noodle dish, all of the neighboring vendors assault Stephen, but to everyone’s surprise, Turkey comes to his rescue. After saving his life, Turkey serves him barbeque pork on rice, which is an exceedingly simple dish. Nevertheless, Stephen finds the humble meal to be marvelously delicious, and it is in this very scene that he learns the secret behind good food: heart. It is only fitting then that Stephen utilizes this very dish to redeem himself and finally earn his status as a culinary deity. As the true God of Cookery, Stephen realizes that anyone can learn to cook as long as they allow the food to serve as a representative of themselves, reflecting all of the sentiment they felt while preparing it. The God of Cookery utilizes several elements of magical realism throughout the course of the film. The use of this technique enhances the viewing experience for the audience as it is used primarily for comedic effect, such as incorporation of cartoonish kung-fu moves during the cooking scenes and other fantastical feats performed by the main characters. The intensity added by the use of magical realism is further magnified by Chow’s choice for cinematography. The film makes use of several point of view shots as well as extreme close-ups to add to the tension felt during scenes of conflict. Another use of cinematography in the film can be seen during the cooking competition scenes. A slow pan over all components of the meal coupled with a glossy filter is used while the food is consumed. Finally, while The God of Cookery is presenting his dishes to the public, quick zooms and camera tilts are used in order to lend the feeling of an infomercial, which is suitable considering his businessman feel. As if often stated by many masters of the culinary arts alike, any person can become a great cook, as long as they truly care about the craft. This truth serves as the principal theme of The God of Cookery. By applying this maxim to his own life, Stephen is able to achieve enlightenment by the conclusion of the film. As said by civil rights activist Cesar Chavez, “If you really want to make a friend, go to someone’s house and eat with him… the people who give you their food give you their heart.” Work Cited The God of Cookery. Directed by Stephen Chow and Lee Lik-chi, performances by Stephen Chow, Karen Mok, and Vincent Kok, CN Entertainment, 21 Dec. 1996. YouTube.

The Gilded Dinner: A Symbolic Representation of Mobster Life by Marco Quiroz-Gutierrez Goodfellas (1990) is known as the quintessential American gangster film, yet many don’t recognize the hidden symbolism behind it, especially as it relates to food. The film traces the life of Henry Hill as he moves up through the ranks of the mob until his eventual downfall. Since he was in school, Henry had fantasized about joining the mob and acquiring the wealth and aura of importance that the gangsters had. Yet, as he gets further into the belly of the beast he begins to realize that the gangster life is not everything he had hoped for. The moment that best signals the beginning of the end for Henry is the dinner scene in prison. Henry, Paulie, Vinnie, and Johnny Dio have just been sentenced to 10 years for assaulting a man who owed a debt. Henry begins to describe the luxuries he is afforded as a mobster in prison as a close-up shot of an onion and then a red sauce with meat leaves the audience’s mouth watering: “In prison, dinner was always a big thing,” he said (1:21:40). “We had a pasta course, and then we had a meat or a fish.” On the outside, and from Henry’s narration, it seems like the mobsters have the best of the best. Whereas normal prisoners live an extremely controlled life dictated by a monotonous daily routine, the mobsters live alone and can move about the prison with relative ease. In fact, the mobsters want for nothing, while the regular prisoners are fighting for survival daily. Henry, himself, best sums it up: “Everybody else in the joint was doing real time, all mixed together living like pigs,” he said (1:03:40). “But we lived alone. I mean, we owned the joint.” This scene epitomizes the gangster lifestyle that Henry longs for as a kid. The fancy clothes, the jewelry, and the aura of respect all look very good from the outside. As such, the dinner and conditions in the prison look elegant and dignified to the other prisoners as well as the audience. Although the viewer may be convinced that the mobsters live all-around extravagant lives, in the next scene, Henry’s wife Karen reminds him and the audience that the mob life is not as good as it seems. Karen, Henry’s wife, explodes in rage at Henry when she sees the name of Henry’s lover on the visitor log. A longshot reveals Karen throwing salami, bread, and wine at Henry, and she exclaims: “Let her sneak this stuff in for you every week,” (1:24:02). This moment shows the sacrifices that are at the center of the mob lifestyle. In this instant Karen is illustrating that despite eating luxury foods, Henry is still in prison. Henry is harming his family by being in prison because his wife is struggling to take care of things at home: “I asked your friend Remo for the money that he owes you,” she said. “You know what he told me? He told me to take my kids down to the police station and get on welfare.” (1:24:10) It is obvious to the audience at this point that Henry cannot sustain his family while at the same time sustaining his mobster lifestyle. Overall, the dichotomy presented between these two prison food scenes is emblematic of the gilded mobster lifestyle. Although the dinner that Henry and his friends eat is one that may seem fit for kings, all in all it is still a prison dinner. When Karen throws the food at Henry she is symbolically saying “If you’re going to cheat and not provide for your family, take the luxury of the gang lifestyle back.” Although Henry had achieved almost everything he had dreamed of by becoming a gangster, balancing his dream with his family obligations is his prison. Works Cited Goodfellas. Martin Scorcese. Warner Bros. 1990.

Dinner and a Show: Grand Gestures of Food Sharing by Jennifer Na Wes Anderson uses eccentric cinematography in The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) to create an enthralling story and visual feast. This movie’s narration is told in episodes, each act nesting like a doll within the greater plot. An unnamed author narrates the inspiration of his book about the famed hotel in the film’s present, 1985. The movie flashes back to 1968 in Zubrowka, an imaginary Eastern European nation where the author encounters Zero Moustafa during his stay at the hotel. The mysterious proprietor invites him to dinner to tell the story of how he acquired the hotel. Zero, now an old man tells his adventures with Monsieur Gustave, the former concierge who becomes entangled in the murder investigation of Madame D, a wealthy frequenter of the Grand Budapest Hotel. Though the genre of this movie is not explicitly a “food film,” food plays a larger role than just enhancing the meticulously designed scenes. Food is used as a device to develop characters and forge instrumental relationships. The majority of the storytelling occurs over an elaborate dinner at the Grand Budapest hotel with dishes like “ducks roasted with olives” in a largely deserted imperial dining room. The 1960s dining room scenes are warmly saturated in yellow and orange hues, with their table illuminated in a soft spotlight at the front of the dining area in the shallow focused shot (Figure 1). As Zero narrates, the warm saturation reveals his fondness for Gustave and nostalgia for his youth. Notably, by the end of the story and dinner the other diners in the background are absent, indicative of the time that passes during Zero’s storytelling. The whimsical scenarios that transpire in the film are established through elements of mise-en-scène. Great detail is put in Agatha’s scenes, tirelessly baking with flour coating her face and countless pastries surrounding her, indicating her devoted work ethic. The servants’ narrow dining hall serves as a contrast to M. Gustave’s ostentatious sermons that are drowned out by the clattering of dishes, as soup is frantically devoured. M. Gustave insists on maintaining his luxurious lifestyle despite his undesirable circumstances, demanding expensive drink and cologne to signify his status and propensity to extravagance. These additions demonstrate M. Gustave’s dignity and tenacity through his refusal to conform to his misfortune. As the time period shifts to the 1930s, the saturation intensifies with red tones and harsher lighting and then changes to cooler blue tones when M. Gustave is in prison, indicating the plot tensions. Food moments initially appear to be for comedic effect, such as the hardened prisoners softening as they devour Mendl’s courtesan au chocolate, because it largely appears at the periphery of the plot. Food holds a powerful role as a communication tool to build relationships, however, acting as a conduit for plot progression. Gustave builds important allies for himself by sharing courtesan au chocolat with fellow inmates who help him escape prison (Figure 2). Although Mendl’s iconic pink box with blue ribbons and tricolored courtesan au chocolat clash against the largely monochromatic prison, the pastries’ exquisite exteriors ironically enable tools to be smuggled since they are left undisturbed by prison guards out of aesthetic appreciation. Wes Anderson’s cinematic idiosyncrasies highlight the burgeoning relationships that form through food sharing and elevate the distinctive personalities of the characters, such as the elusive and ostentatious Monsieur Gustave. Innovative editing and cinematography renders a captivating and engaging film that reveals a charming story through whimsy and wonder. From fine pastries to prison “mush,” food is a powerful communication tool that emphasizes the characters and their unlikely adventures through their affiliation with the Grand Budapest Hotel.

A World of Cheese and Happiness by Skyler Tapley Wallace and Gromit are the quintessential connoisseurs of food. Wallace is always more talkative than Gromit — as Gromit does not say a word — and he is always clear to state his love of food, specifically tea time, and even more specifically cheese. This adventure of Wallace and Gromit in A Grand Day Out (1989) starts with them wanting to get out of the house and spend a nice long weekend together somewhere special. A decision to make some tea prompts their entire next adventure. When they want some cheese and crackers with their tea they discover they don’t have any more cheese. When Wallace eats a cracker without cheese Gromit looks at him, horrified. Wallace swallows it dryly. From this moment they decide where they will go for their holiday: to the moon, because as Wallace says, “everyone knows the moons made of cheese!” So they begin their preparations for their trip. Wallace begins construction of a rocket in their basement. After a few mishaps he and Gromit finally complete the rocket. It is also important to note that they have a toaster built into the rocket. As they start the countdown to leave — by lighting a fuse on the bottom of the rocket — Wallace realizes he has forgotten to pack the crackers. He runs out of the rocket with thirty seconds left because, in his mind, forgetting crackers is worse than not going at all. He makes it back just in time before they blast off to the moon and land most promptly. As they disembark from the rocket it turns out that the moon is, in fact, made of cheese. They begin their sampling of all the different stalagmites of cheese. Before Wallace tries the first bite he proclaims, “nice drop of tea to get the taste buds going.” Wallace tries to identify each one as they taste it but cannot put his finger on it and realizes it is like no other type of cheese they have had. Their time there is cut short by a robot trying to stop them from cutting chunks of cheese out of the moon. As they take off Wallace exclaims, “hold tight lad and think of Lancashire hotpot!” On their ride back Wallace puts the finishing touch on their adventure by pulling out the magazine “Cheese Monthly.” Wallace and Gromit travel all the way to the moon in this adventure simply to go to a place that has cheese. This idea in general is such a beautiful moment in all of film and such a purely delightful idea that any food lover can support and admire. Wallace and Gromit are our inner food lovers who act on their every whim to enjoy life to the fullest, by pursuing the greatest feats for a delicious bite. You never hear them say a bad word about any of the food they have. While the crackers they eat without cheese may be dry and bland they do not say anything to devalue them. They always speak highly of any food because it shows the value they put in it and the love that they have for each moment of life that involves food. They even speak in words of food. The way Wallace talks or what he chooses to read shows the depth that food holds in his life. Their lives revolve around tea, crackers, and, most importantly, cheese. Wallace and Gromit are a fun and light hearted duo that give the viewer a happy feeling. Having such a carefree life as to dedicate their lives to a hobby of enjoying cheese with tea time is a beautiful idea and one so wonderfully crafted through the happy art of stop motion. Wallace and Gromit represent a lot more than just two characters who have a love for cheese. They embody the heart of so many others: those who love food. They are the voice of those who wish they could live a life of bliss in going on fantastical adventures on a whim to taste a new cheese, and that is a beautiful meaning behind such a beautiful film. Works Cited: A Grand Day Out with Wallace and Gromit. Dir. Nick Park. Prod. Rob Copeland and David H. DePatie. Perf. Peter Sallis. The National Film School Distribution Company, 1989.

The Ugly Color of Childhood Starvation by Kristy Sakano Unbeknownst to some fans of Studio Ghibli’s colorful imagery and childlike wonder lies a darker film focusing on issues of childhood malnourishment and abandonment, resentment of the vulnerable by modern society, and the absence of empathy in bystanders. In Isao Takahata’s Grave of the Fireflies, protagonists Seita and Setsuko are orphaned after the Kobe Firebombs during World War II Japan and forced to survive on their own. Initially empathized by grieving mothers and sympathetic villagers, these orphans find shelter with a distant aunt, only to be ejected to the streets when starvation threatens their adopted family. After months living on the fringes of society and forced to scavenge for food, Setsuko succumbs to starvation, Seita soon following. The reduction of children’s lives to annoyances experienced by passersby reveal the ugly truth of a modern society smothering the weak and vulnerable in exchange for self-centered survival and personal greed. Theoretically, the quantity of food available in the village Seita and Setsuko inhabited would have been enough to sustain several starving children, as we see gardens of sweet potatoes flourishing and even ice, a luxury to the Japanese, being delivered to rich neighborhoods. But the abandonment of vulnerable persons, including starving children, the sick and ill deprived of medical facilities and equipment, and widows left without an income, indicate the desperation the Japanese government was experiencing in World War II as it was unable to attend to personal crises within its own country. The markers of civilized society include a centralized government, organized religion, job specialization, and social classes & the arts. When vulnerable individuals are no longer protected, the society collapses into chaos. When food is regarded as a privilege granted to upper class citizens, the vulnerable begin to suffer, discarded to the wayside by a government unable to erect welfare and public assistance. The reduction of Seita and Setsuko from human beings to pests signify a shift in the morals not only in the government, but also fellow citizens witnessing their suffering and eventual demise. In general, Grave of the Fireflies relies on the color red to describe the agony of victims of the firebombing. Red welts cover Setsuko’s body caused by her malnutrition, and are openly visible to several community members, including doctors, nurses, and even policemen who appear indifferent. The red blood oozing between their mother’s bandages is stark against the muted browns and greys of the background. And as Setsuko hallucinates only minutes prior to her death during the climax of the film, Seita offers her a slice of red watermelon to appease her pain. The color red is symbolic of life; it is the color of blood which exists within us, but death on its exit. The red watermelon discarded between Setsuko’s lifeless fingers is symbolic of a society that is unable to care for the weakest members, and apathetically watches children suffer. Grave of the Fireflies. Dir. Isao Takahata. Perf. Tsutoma Tatsumi and Ayano Shiraishi. Toho, 1988. [65-DVD9756] 06 April 2018.

Food and Humor in Guardians of the Galaxy by Carson Jolly Food is definitely not an aspect of Guardians of the Galaxy that sticks with the audience, but it still plays an important role. Most people refer back to the camaraderie of the Guardians, the abundance of humorous moments, or the captivating adventure that the Guardians take. By looking closely, it is clear that food plays a role in each of these aspects. The developed camaraderie and familial relationship between the Guardians is one of the most enjoyable aspects of the movie. One of the most pivotal scenes that helped develop the relationship occurs when the group is being held in prison by Kyln. While incarcerated, the group is given some extremely unappetizing rations. Even in a tough situation, this leads to some humorous and critical interactions among the characters. Rocket starts the conversation by saying, “Well, this sucks,” and the group begins bonding over their distaste for the rations in front of them. It's one of the first instances in which the group begins to develop their patented camaraderie. Humor is arguably the defining aspect of every Guardians of the Galaxy movie and just like the camaraderie of the Guardians, it is an aspect that is supported by food. The plot of the movie revolves around the group trying to find one of the infinity stones, known as the Orb. The Orb can be seen in the picture above. At times, the hunt for the Orb can get intense. Characters like Star-Lord and Drax help lighten the mood by referring to the Orb as a “little melon” and as a “space fruit,” adding a much-needed comical element. Overall, food isn’t used often in Guardians of the Galaxy. However, when used it is pivotal to the development of the most important characteristics and themes of the movie. This makes food an aspect of the movie that should not be overlooked. Guardians of the Galaxy. Dir. James Gunn. Perf. Chris Pratt. Vin Diesel. Sean Gunn. Zoe Saldana. Dave Bautista. Bradley Cooper. Disney Plus, 2014. Streaming.

Judging Through Your Food by Renuka Koilpillai Although many of the characters Guess Who's Coming to Dinner (1967) are self-proclaimed progressives, it soon becomes clear that they are prejudiced against the biracial couple. Some characters such as Matt Drayton and Mr. Prentice really believe that the trouble that John and Joey would cause is not worth their marriage. On a different note, Ms. Tilley is worried that John will become too conceited if he marries a white women. Finally, John believes that all of the parents will likely be shocked by the announcement and wishes to break the news as easily as possible. Specifically, the film unravels the racial implicit bias and feeling that many of the characters have through their choices of food and drink. These choices are both deliberately chosen by the characters to express their attitudes or are symbolic representations of how they feel. Many of the characters are vocal about their attitude or concerns toward John and Joey’s relationship. As a result, they explicitly try to express these concerns through food. The first instance we see of this is when Tillie talks to Joey in her room and says “I don’t care to see a member of my own race get above himself” (10:10). From this, it is explicitly understood that she believes John will think better of himself than other black people because he married a white woman. This same sentiment is reinforced when Joey asks Tillie to make a special dinner for John’s visit. In response, Tillie suggests making celery soup, a pretty basic meal. Although Joey rejects this idea and suggest Turtle soup instead, the audience sees how Tillie deliberately expresses her opinion through her food choices. We see another instance of this when John plays with his egg salad sandwich while Joey talks about his concern over her parent’s reaction. John picks up the sandwich but starts to squeeze the edges and open up the slices of bread for almost an entire minute (17:38-18:28). By doing so, John is building up the suspense in the scene for the audience but is also visibly nervous about the conversation. These are both two examples where the characters deliberately express their emotions through their actions with food. In addition to characters who explicitly express their emotions through their food, the film also makes a statement indirectly about their implicit bias with their food choices. Matt Drayton’s bias against the couple is evident within the first half of the movie; however, when he orders fresh Oregon boysenberry sherbet he states “this is not the stuff…you know it’s not bad. I kinda like it” (57:00). He had hoped to get a flavour that he had gotten before, and although it was not the same one, he still enjoyed this flavour. During this dialogue, there is a close up shot on Matt’s face, and his reactions are over exaggerated. These reactions foreshadow how he eventually reacts to John and Joey’s relationship because they are extremely similar to each other. Finally, the directors divide the parents by their drinks in order to exhibit their differences in perspective. For example, both mothers believe that the relationship is a positive thing; their stance is unifying between their two races, which is signaled by the fact that they both drink sherry. However, the two fathers believe that the relationships is a bad idea. Because this isn’t unifying, they have different drinks; Mr. Prentice gets a bourbon, while the two other white men ask for scotch. This is additionally shown through the placement of each character in the living room. The two mothers sit together on the sofa, while the two fathers sit opposite each other. Whether it be the choice of the characters to express their attitudes about the biracial couple or the film makers decision to do it, Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner? Exposes people’s otherwise veiled beliefs about biracial dating through the character’s actions with food. Although this technique is subtle, it mirrors the nature of implicit biases in that it effects the overall situation without always being noticeable. Work Cited Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?. Dir. Stanley Kramer. Perf. Spencer Tracy, Sidney Poitier, Katharine Hepburn, Katharine Houghton. Columbia Pictures Corporation, 1967. DVD.

Miscegenation Sandwich: Brown Bread Slathered with Mayonnaise by Jennifer Na Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner (1967), a dramedy directed by Stanley Kramer, follows a young interracial couple, Joanna Drayton, and Dr. John Prentice, as they announce their engagement and try to gain their families’ approval. Their decision to wed after knowing each other for ten days is not the most shocking part of their relationship; rather, the notion of a white woman marrying a black man elicits confusion and disapproval from both families. Filmed in the height of the Civil Rights Era fifty years ago this movie is still relevant, reflective of the racial conversations that are quietly discussed over dinner today, despite John’s comment that racism would be eradicated in a generation. This film is rumored to be Jordan Peele’s inspiration for Get Out (2017), a horror film which also documents a black male’s stay at his white girlfriend’s home. Perhaps even scarier is the reality that Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner displays: despite liberal individuals preaching for equality, the undercurrent of racial division still permeates judgement. The movie occurs in Joanna’s lavish home in San Francisco, the decorations beige like its residents. John immediately contrasts Christina and Joanna’s cream dresses with his dark suit and complexion. As the movie progresses the colors become more vibrant and prominent. John’s introduction to the Draytons happen over a lunch of sandwiches on crust-less whole wheat bread prepared by Tillie, the African American maid. The terrace is paradisaically bright and filled with fruit trees and flowers, reminiscent of Hawaii where the couple met. However, the scene is fraught with tension, as the mother sweats uncomfortably and the father reticently glares throughout the meal. John fidgets with the sandwich to pretend like he does not notice the tension. Through it all Joanna is free spoken and radiates positivity as she proves her love for her fiancé and openly admonishes her parents’ subtle racism. Shockingly, Tille is the most outspoken about her disapproval of John, slamming down his cup of coffee and displaying defiant body language around him (Figure 1). She confronts him, accusing him of social climbing by marrying “above himself” and bringing “Black Power trouble making nonsense.” A Dutch tilt and low angle shot is used in this scene, making Tillie appear threatening by reducing the height difference. Although Tillie has a subservient role in the household she expresses her unfounded objection through her mannerisms as she serves John’s food. The drive-in ice cream scene serves as a poignant metaphor for Matt Drayton’s understanding of his daughter’s relationship. He insists on having the same ice cream he was served many years ago, assuming the carhop knows what he is referring to. When he tries the Fresh Oregon Boysenberry ice cream and realizes it is not the same he grimaces in disgust and honks his horn, making a fuss about this surprise (Figure 2). He then takes another bite and realizes that even though the ice cream is different it tastes good and will order it the next time. Similarly, it is not until the conclusion of the movie that he finally accepts the marriage, after many conversations with the future in-laws and family. Matt makes a dramatic speech as the camera tracks him pacing the room, interspersing medium close-ups of the guests’ reactions. He ends by saying, “Well Tillie, when the hell are we going to get some dinner?” The closing credits roll as the families gather in the dining room, framed by the doorframe giving the viewer an outsider’s perspective on the peaceful resolution (Figure 3). The colors are muted in this scene but Joanna’s green skirt suit, red wine, and orange flame from the candle chandelier stand out as dinner is served, highlighting the uniqueness of the situation. The same nondiegetic song, “Glory of Love”, that plays at the start of the film movie concludes it. This cinematographic addition sandwiches the happy start of the relationship with a desirable conclusion, with necessary condiments of light-hearted humor and meaty discrimination and discomfort stuffed in between. The families finally break bread and barriers after Matt voices his approval; after all, time has continually proven the white male’s opinion matters the most. Works Cited Kramer, Stanley, dir. Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner. Columbia Pictures Corporation, 1967.

A Family Feast in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by Chantel Gillus In Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (Chris Columbus 2001), inclusivity and family is an essential part of feasting. With the students attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, they are finally obtaining a sense of belonging amongst their peers. Peers who are just like them, witches and wizards. In the film, Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe) discovers he’s a wizard, gets shipped off to Hogwarts, and meets two of his best friends, Hermione Granger (Emma Watson) and Ron Weasley (Rupert Grint). All three have just arrived at Hogwarts for their first year of studying, but they come from different backgrounds. Harry’s parents died at the hands of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named (Ralph Fiennes), and he lives with his mother’s sister, Aunt Petunia (Fiona Shaw), Uncle Vernon (Richard Griffiths), and his cousin, Dudley (Harry Melling). Harry is the outcast of his biological family as he undergoes neglect and abuse at home, even being forced to live in the closet underneath the stairs. As for Hermione, she is a muggle-born witch, who has two non-magical parents. On the other hand, Ron is a part of the Weasley wizarding family, who along with his siblings and parents, have always known about the magical part of their lives. Even with various backgrounds, each of these characters has something in common. At Hogwarts, there is a Start-of-Term Feast on the first night that the students arrive at the school to welcome them into the new school year. The feast occurs after each student is placed into their respective houses based on their characteristics, which are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Hufflepuff. Harry, Hermione, and Ron are all placed into Gryffindor. It is a grand feast with an excessive amount of food for the students to get their grub on. Foods such as roasted chicken, roast beef, corn on the cob, pork chops, lamb chops, mashed potatoes, sweet desserts, and so much more. Just imagine a great Thanksgiving-like feast meant for a massive number of students. Thanksgiving itself is a communal feast that is all about giving thanks and being amongst family. Family doesn’t always mean your blood relatives, especially in this case when it comes to the Hogwarts students. The wizards and witches are already unique from those of the non-magical world, but when they come to Hogwarts, they are considered normal. Hogwarts is a safe space for the students to be themselves and grow their magic. This is the first feast that the students indulge in, and the warmth of the food welcomes them into their new home. Their new sanctuary in which they feel seen, respected, and loved. There’s a feeling of empathy and understanding that radiates off of one another because of their magical abilities and sense of character. Harry, Ron, and Hermione have discovered a family within each other and their peers; they’ve finally found their people. The feast can be correlated to being an icebreaker for the students to shake off their new school jitters and get to know one another. Normally in schools, the cafeteria can be a place of leisure or anxiety as students are either spending time with their friends or excluded. But in this scenario, it’s neither. It is a celebration of belonging. Especially for Harry, as he has always been treated as lesser than in his own family, but now he is viewed as an equal–or perhaps sort of a celebrity due to his parents’ history and legacy. In this scene, it is exemplified that food isn’t just about filling our empty stomachs, but filling empty voids which we lack. This may be love, companionship, family, inclusivity, comfort, etc. Although, all of these adjectives intertwine with one another and someone could be seeking all of the above. In Harry, Hermione, and Ron’s case, they’ve certainly found an essence of community within the bounds of this delicious feast. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. Dir. Chris Columbus. Perf. Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson, Rubert Grint. Max, 2001. Streaming.

The Art of Stuffed Cabbage: Politics and Passion in Haute Cuisine by My Linh Luu In Haute Cuisine (dir. 2013 by Christian Vincent), a previously unknown truffle farmer in the province, Hortense Laborie is asked to cook at the Élysées, where she reveals not just expertise in her craft, but also a determination in her refusal to submit to the demeaning and hostile attitudes of the other, all-male chefs. At this fast-paced and rigid environment, Hortense strives to pursue her passion for the culinary arts as chef in the Private Kitchen for the French President, despite the hostility and the political schemes of the power-hungry chefs in the Main Kitchen. Indeed, food is represented as Hortense’s vehicle to rebel against the patriarchal structure of the kitchen, to promote a democratic instead of bureaucratic political system, as well as to challenge the conventional pursuit of success. Hortense’s commitment to cooking her authentic recipes regardless of the aggression and resentment from the all-male, Main Kitchen (MK), illustrates her refusal to tolerate its patriarchal culture. Indeed, Hortense’s simple and aesthetic cuisine in the Private Kitchen is contrasted with the indistinguishable meals from the Main Kitchen. For instance, her cooking elevates the rustic meal of stuffed cabbage to an exquisite concoction made through meticulous steps, from the peeling of the Savoy cabbages, to the delicate filling of Scottish salmon, to the brouillade of Loire carrots, before wrapping them in a muslin-lined colander to boil. In contrast, the shots of the MK rarely show food being made; rather, they either focus on chaotic actions of uniform male cooks, all dressed in white, or the bitter comments by the MK chefs. After learning about Hortense’s stuffed cabbage, one of the MK male chefs replies, “Stuffed cabbage? The President will be pissing all day.” The omission of close-up scenes of food at the MK shows that its food is prosaic in contrast to Hortense’s sophisticated meals. Hortense’s perseverance in maintaining the authenticity of her cuisine regardless of the provocation from the MK thus makes her a strong female character as well as a power figure who is undeterred by her competitors’ hostility and criticism. Hortense’s aversion to the bureaucratic nature of politics is shown through her efforts to cook assertively and represents a promotion of a more democratic political structure. In preparation for the President’s family luncheon for the May Banquet, Hortense creates a menu with the theme of the River Loire. From duck liver in Coteaux du Layon jelly to Rochefort jonchée, Hortense’s menu manages to weave both the simplicity of rural ingredients with the complexity of figuring out the ancient recipes through experimentation. Her plan, however, is compromised by the MK head chef, LePiq, who is angered by the Rochefort jonchée because he thinks it is a dessert—a task designated for MK. LePiq, fearing his power is undermined, threatens Hortense, “Everybody’s disposable here except me! Don’t play games with me or you’ll lose!” LePiq’s indignation thus is parallel to the outrage of a politician who sacrifices the purpose of his task (to create a coherent meal) for the assertion of power. Thus, the dichotomy between the MK’s and Hortense’s approach to leadership suggests the two potential ways of political rule in the hands of the President of France, one being autocratic, the other flexible and democratic. Through the metaphor of the jonchée debate and the pejorative depiction of the MK, Haute Cuisine suggests that a democratic political system is better than a bureaucratic and repressive regime. Aside from Hortense’s refusal to abide by patriarchal and bureaucratic systems, she does not pursue the conventional path of success based on struggles for titles and power. Indeed, a sharp contrast with her work at the Élysées is her time working as a cook for a one-year mission in the Antarctic. Throughout the movie, the scenes of her life at the Palace are juxtaposed with those in the Antarctic. At the Antarctic base, she still cooks her most exquisite dishes, but finds a respite from her previous structured life. In the left film still above, Hortense is shown surrounded by a roomful of men in white aprons when she is a chef at the Palace. The shot is wide, and her colorful attire contrasts with the men’s uniforms—suggesting her characterization as an artist in the midst of conventional cooks. On the right, in the Antarctic, Hortense is shown in a mid-shot, surrounded only by nature, which suggests a sense of tranquility, far away from the politics in the mainland. “Living on this island for a year,” she says, “with the wind, the cold, the isolation … gave me strength.” She also says, “j’ai tourné la page,” implying a her intention to leave behind the strain of politics to the next chapter of life, including travels to New Zealand where she hopes to open a truffle farm. Ultimately, the art of cooking for Hortense is entwined with a search for happiness and belonging. After defying the patriarchal and bureaucratic environments at the Palace, she departs for a simpler and more authentic lifestyle, while rejecting the pursuit of the traditional ladder of success. Hortense thus embodies the artist who wants to pursue her passion without the constraints of authority and society. The parallel between food and politics furthermore enhances the positive characterization of democracy while denouncing bureaucracy and despotism. Works Cited Haute Cuisine. Dir. Christian Vincent. Perf. Catherine Frot, Arthur Dupont, Jean d’Ormesson. Vendome Production, France 2 Cinema, 2012. DVD. SHARE

Finding Freedom through Fried Chicken by Markella M. Patitsas Minny teaches Celia how to cook fried chicken, equipping her with the skills to fulfill her wifely duties and even supersede her role as a wife. In return, Celia teaches Minny lessons in trust and patience, and empowers her to leave her husband. Throughout The Help, fried chicken is the bridge that empowers an individual to move beyond one’s failings and realize her potential. ​ Celia Foote suffers guilt and feelings of inadequacy because she is unable to perform the tasks expected of a southern white woman in the 1960s: she has trouble conceiving a child, is an outcast from the societies and ladies charities of her community, and is a failure in the kitchen. She concocts a plan and hires a cook, Minny, to conceal her culinary shortcomings from her husband. Minny’s first lesson to Celia is how to cook fried chicken. This is the first time at her workplace that Minny has the freedom to choose what dish to cook. She regards fried chicken with an almost sacred importance, highlighted by her philosophy that “Frying chicken just tend to make you feel better about life”. For Minny the action of “frying chicken” is even greater than the consumption of it. The step-by-step cooking process that Minny teaches Celia begins their mutually beneficial relationship. The process itself is a combined effort: Celia has the working-class chutzpah and know-how to kill the chicken, a necessary action towards the final dish. Minny possesses the technical skill to complete the dish. The cooking process shifts traditional notions of hire and help interactions. Minny, the maid, is in a position of power, giving orders to Celia. Celia, the “trophy” wife, is actually a hardworking woman with a humble background who can kill a chicken while a shaken Minny looks on. The reversal evident in the cooking process culminates in the shared meal between Celia and Minny. The table is an even plane between them, a metaphor that Minny and Celia are on the same level. The two characters take equal pleasure in the same meal, despite the reality that one wears an apron and the other, heels. Fried chicken consecrates every space in which it appears as a place of safety and comfort. Skeeter and Abilene hold clandestine meetings in Abilene’s home to discuss the novel. The first meeting is characterized by awkwardness since neither Skeeter nor Abilene know how to act apart from the master-help roles. Skeeter sits in a dimly-lit and hardly-used living room, and is served tea and cookies on a tray by a timid Abilene. As their intimacy grows, their meetings shift to the kitchen, the heart of Abilene’s home. The two characters sit opposite one another, and equi-distant from both characters, directly in the center of the table, sits fried chicken on a plate. Fried chicken serves an intermediary between the two worlds, a food that both characters can appreciate. This generous host-gift shows Abilene’s willingness to let Skeeter into her world; to let Skeeter eat her food, made in her kitchen, by her hands, a dish chosen of her own volition. The only settings where fried chicken is present are in Minny and Abilene’s homes and in Celia’s. That Minny would bring a dish so important to her into Celia’s hoe, indicates the level of tenderness she has for her friend. Minny is known in the community as the best cook and she offer the best gift she has, a taste of her own home cooking, to Celia. This intimate and telling gesture by Minny reveals a genuine desire to bring the familiarity of her own home, into another’s; a marriage of two menus. While the fried chicken is a gift in it of itself, it is also the more important gift of independence. By first demonstrating how to cook the fried chicken, then stepping back and allowing Celia to do it on her own, Minny empowers Celia to acquire a skill she can be proud of. This independence taught in cooking carries over to other aspects of Celia’s life- she no longer begs to join prejudiced societies or fears her husband will leave her. She fills Minny a plate of food that she cooked, her proud husband looking on, serving Minnie with the tender compassion of a mother and the love of a friend. Likewise, Celia’s feast for Minny is the emotional sustenance that inspires Minny’s act of independence: In a voice-over the narrator says, “That table of food gave Minny the strength she needed. She took her babies out from under Leroy and never went back”. The gentle nourishing and tough-love advice which Celia showers on Minny inspires Minny to take the same care of herself and her children and remove them from a hostile environment. Fried chicken is an extension of Minny’s heart and home that she shares with Celia, and in return Celia’s fried chicken inspires Minny to “take heart”, having the courage to reestablish independence in her home. Work Cited The Help. Dir. Tate Taylor. Perf. Emma Stone, Viola Davis, Octavia Spencer, Jessica Chastain. Dreamworks, 201l. DVD.

Delicate Hands by Tommy Moorman House is a 1977 Japanese supernatural horror film produced and directed by Nobuhiko Obayashi. The film is a sort of horrific fairy tale in which a group of schoolgirls in 1970s Japan travels to the house of one of the girls’ aunt. The aunt turns out to be a witch, and over the course of the movie she and her bewitched house possess and eat the girls. House may sound chilling when described on paper, but the movie itself is more strange than terrifying due to its absurd plot and bizarre visual effects. The devouring of the girls takes place mainly in quick scenes where they are attacked and eaten by household objects; however, one instance is drawn out into a longer sequence in which the aunt makes an elegant meal out of one of the girls. This feast represents a grotesque parody of traditional feasting: certain aspects of the traditional feast are exaggerated in order to create a feasting scene that is both funny and terrifying. Earlier in the movie, one of the girls named Mac leaves the house to retrieve a watermelon from a well and disappears. It hasn’t been revealed yet that the aunt plans to eat the girls, but the sly smile she shows whenever the disappearance is mentioned tips the viewer off about her involvement. Later in the movie, the aunt leaves the girls and sits down to a candlelit dinner in her dining room with the hand of the missing girl prepared on the table. The hand is placed on a plate in the center of the table surrounded by nice dishes and glasses containing colorful liquids. As waltzing dinner music plays, the aunt nibbles on the hand. After finishing dining, she moves happily around the dining room, dancing with a skeleton and watching as her cat walks across the piano. The scene ends with her wearing a pleased expression as she yawns and reminisces. The elements of this scene are normally associated with traditional feasting, but the nature of this feast is grotesque and horrific. The juxtaposition of violence and cannibalism with delicate and refined dining becomes a horrific/comedic parody of traditional feasting. The visuals and sounds of this scene are important for creating the parody. On screen we see exaggerated elegance and comfort. The drinks around the table are colorful and the lighting is gauzy and dim. The hand is shown being eaten, but it is not the focus of the scene; instead, the camera pays attention to the actions of the aunt. The shots linger on the aunt, focusing on her expressions and movements, which are relaxed and content. Sound is used to express some of the grotesque qualities of the scene. The sound of sawing is dubbed in as the aunt cuts into the hand; a loud crunching sound is played in when she takes a bite of the hand; and we can hear her sigh contentedly when the meal is over. Music is both diegetic and extra-diegetic: the same cheesy waltzing melody plays continuously as the scene cuts between shots, yet the aunt dances and hums along at the same time. I would argue that this scene is effective because it plays a psychological trick on viewers that both excites and disturbs them. Certain familiar aspects of feasting are emphasized in this scene: the decadence of the meal, the sense of special occasion, and relaxed manner of dining. If the scene took place exactly the same, only with the aunt eating a normal meal instead of a human hand, we would likely recognize it as a familiar event. These familiar visual cues are twisted by the interjection of cannibalism and violence so that they disturb rather than comfort us. The cannibalism is so cleanly inserted into the scene that it becomes absurd, something we can’t imagine happening in real life. The absurdity of the cannibalism is heightened by the fact that she is somehow going to eat a whole raw hand rather than a cooked meal. This is not the chilling refined cannibalism of Hannibal Lecter, it is something fantastic and silly. The humor of the scene hinges on this absurdity. Without the exaggeration of the decadence of the meal, the scene might appear serious; not something we would feel comfortable enough with to laugh at. I spoke several times in this essay about associations viewers would have towards feasting, but I wonder if these are universal. Is singing, sighing, or reminiscing after a meal a culturally constructed activity? Or could anyone view this scene and understand that it is making references to what a normal dinner would look like? Whether or not these associations are universal, they certainly exist for some, and are mostly unconsciously held. By playing with notions of fine dining and cannibalism, this scene creates an enjoyable mix of absurd humor and horror. Work cited House. Dir. Nobuhiko Obayashi. Perf. Kimiko Ikegami, Miki Jinbo, Kumiko Oba, Ai Matubara. Toho, 1977.

What Defines Food? by Jalen Heyward How to Eat Fried Worms (2006) is a film about a fourth grader named Billy who moves to a new town with his family. Billy struggles with transitioning to the new school and encounters the school bully on the first day. The school bully; Joe Guire and his crew target Billy and pick on him on the first day by putting worms in his lunch. Instead of showing his embarrassment, Billy decides to deter the negative attention and eat the worms to show that he is unbothered. You can see the disgust on Billy’s face, however he says that he loves the worms and even fries them from time to time. Billy successfully eats a worm and Joe places a bet for him to eat ten fried worms in one day without throwing up. Although this film teaches individuals to stand up to bullies, it also displays the boundaries society places on the definition of food. In society, the culinary triangle is used to define states of food . This triangle consists three categories which are cooked, rotten, and raw. In the film, ten worms are all prepared differently fitting a specific category of the culinary triangle. This film embarks on the idea of the culinary triangle because worms are not considered food for humans, however if the worms are cooked, it brings up controversy on whether the worms should be consumed or not. The boys get into many misadventures as they try to find different places and increasingly disgusting ways to cook the worms. In the film, nine worms are prepared for Billy. The first is worm fried with pig fat. The second worm was made with an omelet however it was accidentally given to the principal. The principal enjoys the omelet and ironically says it’s the “best omelet i’ve ever had”. The third worm was made in the french fry fryer and covered in liver juice. The fourth worm was made with a soup concoction of hot sauce and chili as show in figure 1. The fifth worm was made with marshmallows, ketchup, and tuna fish. The sixth worm was a peanut butter and jelly worm jam sandwich. The seventh was a room temperature worm smoothie made with broccoli. The eight worm was called radioactive slime delight in which they placed the worm inside the microwave and heated it up until the worm exploded. The ninth worm was eaten raw. At the end of the movie Billy is celebrated for eating the worms and the nickname “worm-boy” that Billy was originally given to antagonize him, is now used to glorify his braveness and acquired taste for worms. Through the bet, Billy normalized eating worms and although it is seen as quirky by the rest of the boys accepted his culinary interest. This movie ultimately questions the requirements for the culinary triangle and questions the real definition of food.

The Big Apple's Elusive Burger by Mary Scott Brisson How I Met Your Mother (2008) follows the lives of a group of friends in their late twenties as they navigate life, love, friendship, and aging milestones. In Season 4 Episode 2, “The Best Burger in New York,” the gang embarks on a quest to find the best burger in New York City after one member of the friend group, Marshall, declares that he had the best burger of his entire life several years ago. He does not remember the location nor name of the restaurant, but he knows the legendary burger joint’s location was both small and obscure. Despite any lack of evidence of its existence, the group becomes determined to track down the infamous burger. Throughout the episode, the cast follows clues from fragments of Marshall’s memory to track down the right spot. The episode delivers a message of the importance of friendship in conjunction with the pursuit of life’s simple pleasures, such as eating a great burger. A central theme of their quest is the universal desire for culinary excellence. Moreover, it illustrates the great lengths people are willing to go to for food. The nostalgia of food is also a prominent idea throughout the episode. Marshall’s memory of the burger serves as a powerful example of the connection between food and memory. He tries multiple burgers before finding the correct one. Each time, it appears he has found the burger from several years ago. After swallowing, however, he remarks that it is not the correct burger. Marshall’s relying on a taste experience from years ago emphasizes the indelible mark food has the ability to imprint on human memory. Despite the crew’s convoluted journey to finding the ultimate burger, the process exemplifies food’s ability to bring people together. The burger quest ultimately bolsters all of the friends’ bonds and highlights the social aspect embedded in dining. The quest mirrors the real-life thrill of discovering hole-in-the-wall eateries with companionship. The setting of the restaurant further reminds viewers of the fact that food and atmosphere do not have to be extravagant nor expensive to be enjoyed and bring people together. Finally, the episode’s message of the power of simplicity reveals itself through the choice of food. There is nothing extravagant, gourmet, expensive, or fancy about their highly sought-after burger. Rather, they seek simple pleasure of a properly cooked, tasty, and inexpensive burger. The episode uses food as a vehicle to explore themes of nostalgia, friendship, and quest for perfection. It further demonstrates the role of food as more than sustenance; food serves as a source of connection, exploration, memory, and experience amongst friends. Bays, Carter, and Craig Thomas. How I Met Your Mother, Season 4, episode 2, CBS, 29 Sept. 2008.

Food and Friendship by Sierra Smith In the beginning of DreamWorks’ 2010 animated film How to Train Your Dragon, the dragons are first presented as a predatory species threatening the livelihood of the Vikings of Berk. Yet food plays an integral part in bonding together Viking outcast Hiccup and the injured dragon Toothless, creating a friendship that proves not all dragons are threats. The film begins with Hiccup’s narration about the island of Berk, the home of his Viking clan. He says, “The only problems are the pests. You see, most people have mice or mosquitos. We have dragons” (2). This line is immediately followed by the image of a dragon seizing a sheep and flying away with it. The moment progresses into a series of shots of dragons terrorizing the town and stealing livestock, with the Vikings fighting back for the sake of survival. The conflict between the dragons and the Vikings is evident in these first few minutes of the film—the dragons steal the livestock (the food source), so they’re a threat to the townspeople. This fact is ingrained in the history and culture of the Vikings of Berk—their duty is to kill dragons, and everything they do is centered around that goal. Hiccup is the outlier in his clan of dragon-slayers. Because of his lack of physical strength, he has been subjected to metal work and is thus untrained in the art of fighting dragons when the film begins. Yet his desire to fit in and be approved leads him to set his own trap for a dragon, and he manages to wound a legendary Night Fury, a dragon no one in Berk has seen and lived to tell the tale. However, when Hiccup confronts the dragon in the woods where it landed, he is unable to kill it, and sets the dragon free into a glade instead. Seeing that the dragon is unable to fly from its injury and thus unable to hunt, Hiccup brings the dragon—whom he names Toothless—a fish as a peace offering. The moment in which Hiccup offers the fish to Toothless is pivotal as it sets up a foundation of trust between them and begins their friendship. Weaponless, Hiccup holds out the fish for Toothless, who takes it from his hand rather than from the ground, indicating a vulnerability on Hiccup’s part to let the dragon so near to him to receive the food (28). Instead of eating the entire fish, however, Toothless spits up the bottom half of the fish into Hiccup’s lap, insinuating that he expects Hiccup to also eat not just the same meal, but of the same fish. Getting past his initial reaction of disgust and horror, Hiccup takes a bite of the raw fish and swallows it, appeasing Toothless. It’s only after this “breaking of the bread” that Toothless becomes comfortable around Hiccup, eventually allowing Hiccup to touch and ride him. The sharing of the fish is important as the two characters are eating of the same meal. Social psychologist Ayelet Fishbach says, “Food is about bringing something into the body. And to eat the same food suggests that we are both willing to bring the same thing into our bodies. People just feel closer to people who are eating the same food as they do. And then trust, cooperation, these are just consequences of feeling close to someone” (NPR). By eating two halves of the same fish, Hiccup and Toothless are proving that they are both willing to bring into their bodies the same food, demonstrating that they trust the food and each other. This trust becomes the base of their friendship—Toothless trusts that Hiccup won’t take advantage of him or kill him as other Vikings would have done, and Hiccup trusts that Toothless won’t harm him as he was raised to believe all dragons would by instinct. The bond that Hiccup and Toothless created by eating the same fish, and the intimacy it granted them, allowed them to disprove the Vikings’ theories about the innate viciousness of dragons, ultimately demonstrating to the people of Berk that dragons can be friends rather than foes when approached with trust and understanding. Works Cited: How to Train Your Dragon. Directed by Dean DeBlois and Chris Sanders, DreamWorks Animation, 2010. Shankar Vedantam. “Why Eating The Same Food Increases People’s Trust and Cooperation.” NPR, By David Greene, 2 Feb. 2017.

War and Ritual, Breakfast as a Community Builder by Andrew Thornburg The wondrous, magical world of Howl’s Moving Castle, populated with wizards and witches, follows the character of Sophie as she navigates a curse bestowed on her amidst a war. Her mundane life running a hat shop suddenly becomes fantastical as she finds herself jinxed. In hopes of lifting the curse, Sophie seeks out Howl, a powerful wizard holding influence in several kingdoms, ultimately finding herself swept up in a senseless war with nation leaders expecting Howl to support each of their sides. With war as a central theme of the film, fragmented families and the need to come together as a community becomes a necessity for the characters of the film particularly among the violence and horror that war brings. While the war is responsible for displacing, breaking apart, and destroying entire families on account of the whims of nation leaders, something as simple as a breakfast meal with those you love becomes rare and coveted. Throughout the film, breakfast serves as a ritual for the characters to reconstruct familial ties, bond as a new “family unit”, and also provides the characters with brief relief from the violence. The first breakfast scene (Figure 1), featuring eggs, bacon, and bread, illustrates the lack of order in Howl’s household and establishes Sophie in the domestic role that she occupies throughout the rest of the film. It also presents the central family unit for the film that inevitably expands later as the movie progresses and the war rages on. Sophie takes charge and begins the ritual by forcing Calcifer into submission, but is not alone in her preparation of breakfast. Howl inevitably returns, and effortlessly takes over the cooking process. Everyone in the scene participates in the breakfast, as Markl, Howl’s current apprentice, and Sophie set the table, Calcifer and Howl cook, illustrating the processes that occur in a real family breakfast setting. As pictured above, Calcifer, a fire demon bound to Howl by a mysterious pact between the two, not only participates in the ritual necessary to begin the feast but simultaneously gets to feast himself—eating on the broken eggshells that Howl feeds him. Markl remarks how he “...can’t remember the last time we had a real breakfast,” revealing the lack of order now being restored to the household with the introduction of Sophie, and the construction of a new family unit through the ritual of breakfast. Moreover, this breakfast sits just at the periphery of the conflict. The viewer is aware of what the various powerful nations want from Howl, and is simultaneously faced with the uncertainty of the war ahead which serves to mirror the real-life process of being drafted. Sophie is introduced to the household at an essential time, bringing order to a broken home just before it is once again fragmented through war. Breakfast returns later in the film, reinforcing it as a ritual for the newfound Howl family, but also serving as a community builder and presenting the characters with a moment of solace among the war-torn nations. In Figure Two, Sophie is helping feed the displaced Wicked Witch of the West while Markl sits beside Madame Suliman’s dog Heen as they all eat together. This represents a stark contrast from the conflict between the two characters that viewers experience earlier in the film, illustrating how war sometimes brings unlikely characters together, and the healing capabilities of breakfast in this film. Instead of restoring order to a broken household as previously explored by the first breakfast, this breakfast serves to reconstruct a broken and fragmented community. Despite the destruction around the characters, namely the flying machine that has crashed into the side of Howl’s Castle, they are still capable of enjoying a simple breakfast, emphasizing the importance of family and community as a method to cope and deal with difficult times. Howl's Moving Castle. Dir. Hayao Miyazaki. Studio Ghibli, 2004.

Mind Over Taste Buds by Rachel Murray Intelligence is a powerful characteristic with which humans have been both blessed and burdened. It is linked to each of our senses to process uniquely the experiences in our lives. For example, culture molds our unique sets of taste buds and in turn, we create and experience our environment around these preferences. Consider the thoughts that we incur when deciding what to cook for dinner. The majority of meals we create are dictated by a craving—a craving for something sweet, for a certain dish, for a specific ingredient—or by an aversion to certain flavors. Many of our preferences are culturally influenced, but does this mean that we are incapable of altering our taste buds? In his film The Hundred Foot Journey (2014), Lass Hallstrom outwardly portrays the contrast between French and Indian tastes. This division dictates how the characters feast and begs the question: Do one’s culturally molded taste buds restrict one’s ability to feast? The film illustrates that while our tongues may be partial to certain dishes, we are able to accommodate new flavors when presented with different cultural creations. The plastic nature of our taste buds proves that it is not our culturally formed palates that dictate our ability to feast. Rather, it is our restricted minds that push us away from the diverse table of food. From the beginning scene of the film, we, the viewers, are provided with insight into how Indian cuisine is prepared—a mixture of strong spices that have been passed down within the Kadam family. Hassan Kadam, the protagonist, emphasizes the effect that his culture has on his taste buds, stating that he was “taught how to taste” by his mother’s culinary expertise. Although he carries his spices with him when his family uproots to France, he is not afraid to experience the traditional French cuisine. This is perhaps due to the fact that the family had no other option but to try traditional French foods after their car breaks down and they are left stranded. Marguerite is the catalyst in changing the family’s taste palates when she provides a miniature feast to the stranded Indian family. Because Hassan and the rest of the Kadams did not have the luxury of declining Marguerite’s offer, their minds and taste palates become more accepting of French culture and cuisine. Consequently, the family is capable of truly feasting because they have no inhibitions regarding incorporating another culture’s taste preferences. This adaptability greatly contrasts with the restricted mindset of Madame Mallory, the prestigious owner of the French restaurant across the street. Her palate is greatly influenced by the culture in which she lives, a feature that the viewer can deduce from her ingredients of choice and the creation of her menu. She refuses to accept traditional Indian spices and dishes, emphasizing the distinct division between the two cultures when she states that “Indian cannot become French, and French cannot become Indian.” In rejecting to try another culture’s cuisine, she is restricting her ability to feast by limiting a variety of foods from the feasting table. However, in the end of the movie, Madame Mallory finally integrates Indian spices into her taste preferences, proving that it was not her cultural influence that restricted her from feasting. Her mind was the clashing force. She mentally fought the integration of Indian cuisine into her palate, not daring to touch Hassan’s dishes, due to her beliefs that French cuisine was the one and only cuisine she would enjoy. When she finally tastes one of Hassan’s creations, she is enamored and finds that her taste buds accommodate themselves quite well to Indian flavors. Only after she tries the food of another culture does her mind finally open. In doing so, she allows herself the ability to feast—making room on her plate for a new range of foods. As a society, we are raised to crave certain foods, ones that we experience within our own culture. For instance, many who are raised in Asia have an aversion to cheese, a clear distinction from the cheese-centered European palate. However, this is not to say that an individual raised in Asia cannot reshape their taste buds to enjoy the dairy delicacy. Most of our reluctance to incorporate new foods into our diet stems from our beliefs that we will not enjoy them. When we are finally driven to sample new cuisine, our ability to feast becomes elevated. When we open our minds, only then do our plates make room for a variety of new foods and allow for a new level of feasting. References The Hundred Foot Journey. Dir. Lasse Hallstrom. Perf. Helen Mirren, Om Puri, Manish Dayal, Charlotte le Bon. Touchstone, 2014. DVD Image: https://diaryofachocaholic.files.wordpress.com/2014/09/charlotte-le-bon-hundred-foot-journey.jpg