The masturbatory movie

>> Vatel is Roland Joffé's metaphor for genius filmmaking

by JOANNE LATIMER

So there was this chef who worked for the Prince of Condé in 17th-century France. But he wasn't a regular chef. He was the mastermind behind spectacular dinner parties that combined Toqué! with Cirque du Soleil. The chef's name was Vatel and the film that shares his name is over the top. It's extravagant, flamboyant and fussy. Vatel, of course, would love it.

Vatel opened the Cannes film festival last year and there were a lot of eyeballs rolling about it being such a clunky metaphor. Director Roland Joffé is just jerking off, said the eyeball rollers, a charge that's hard to dispute. Vatel, the character, is an obvious stand-in for today's put-upon film directors who must deal with cash-strapped producers and insatiable audiences.

A film by Joffé is always welcome--even after City of Joy. The director of The Mission and The Killing Fields is a good bet. He doesn't do anything in half measures, and Vatel is no exception. But it doesn't ring true. For all its attention to detail, it's nothing but layers of stage sets. Vatel, a costume drama about a costume drama, is all about the ice sculptures and egos. It's the perfect example of a big budget eclipsing the very film it's supposed to enhance.

Gérard Depardieu plays Vatel. His girth is carefully hidden, reminding me of Brando in the shadows of Apocalypse Now. It's an easy role for Depardieu, who gets to play a creative, kind, sensitive maestro who's immune to the sexual advances of the nobility--men and women--and even Uma Thurman.

She plays Anne de Montausier, who arrives with King Louis XIV's court for a three-day fête. The Prince of Condé (Julian Glover) asks Vatel to put on a fabulous event to win the King's favour. The King's entourage is full of sleaze bags (enter Tim Roth as the Marquis de Lauzun) who try to sabotage Vatel's production and sleep with his young kitchen boy. These people are mean for sport, and Vatel has to keep the castle from imploding. Add to his grief the fact that Condé is broke and Vatel's local suppliers don't want to hand over any more quail until their accounts are settled.

Joffé, for his part, isn't very comfortable with the peasant element. The rabble, he concedes, must be present, but they're much too clean and their protests are completely unmenacing. Joffé should have stuck to the backbiting between the nobles. That's where the film regains some of its dignity.

Vatel's grand spectacle gets sideswiped a bit and his artistic dignity comes into question. For a man like Vatel (and his contemporary brethren in Hollywood), great suffering comes from artistic compromise. He's offered the equivalent to a three-movie deal with a major studio, and he must choose what to do with his talent. Eyeballs will undoubtedly be rolling at the film's conclusion, which is more noble than necessary--even for Vatel. :

Vatel opens Friday, Feb. 2