Yes, Chef: This epic doco shows what fine dining really looks like

What happens when America’s pre-eminent documentary filmmaker visits a three-Michelin-star restaurant in central France? One of the most fascinating fly-on-the-wall films in recent memory, constructed from around 150 hours of raw footage.

The filmmaker is Frederick Wiseman, the 95-year-old producer/director of more than 40 documentaries including The Store (1983), about the flagship Neiman-Marcus department store in Dallas; Missile (1988), about the Air Force staff running America’s ballistic missile program; and National Gallery (2014), about the workings of London’s National Gallery.

The restaurant is Le Bois sans feuilles (The Leafless Forest), in the Loire Valley: an institution of the culinary world, founded and run by the Troisgros family. And the film is Menus-Plaisirs – Les Troisgros, a four-hour epic that interrogates the art and performance of fine dining.

Wiseman, who spends most of his time in Paris, had been cooped up in Burgundy during the COVID years. To thank his hosts for their hospitality, he invited them out for some haute cuisine and checked out the Michelin guide.

It steered them towards Le Bois sans feuilles, a couple of hours’ drive away in the idyllic Ouches region, where the prices range upward from €300 per head ($494 – ouches, indeed!).

After they’d finished their meal, head chef César Troisgros popped by their table for a chat and Wiseman found himself wondering out loud if it would be possible for him to make a film about the place. César consulted his father, Michel, who checked the filmmaker out on Wikipedia, and the seed for Menus-Plaisirs was sown.

In the spring of 2022, Wiseman’s four-person crew arrived to begin what turned out to be a seven-week shoot. In line with the fly-on-the-wall approach for which the director has become famous, they remained as unobtrusive as possible, following the Troisgros team going about its business. We see the chefs buying and gathering produce, planning menus, preparing meals in the vast kitchens and serving them in the superbly outfitted dining-room with its floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on verdant surrounds.

There are worse places to be a fly on the wall.

We visit other locations including the hotel attached to the restaurant and other ventures owned by the family – such as La Colline du Colombier, based in a converted farmhouse, offering a more rustic ambience.

Wiseman method is to drop us into these locations and let us sort things out for ourselves, guided only by the way he has cut his footage together. He doesn’t use interviews, music, narration or captions identifying people or places, and (unlike, say, Errol Morris, Michael Moore or Nick Broomfield), he never appears on camera. His style is strictly observational and, he insists, he never gives any direction to those he’s filming. He’s there as an onlooker, curious to learn.

Wiseman describes his films as “voyages of discovery”, as much for him as for his viewers.

To borrow his description, his films are always “voyages of discovery”, as much for him as for his viewers. They take their time and they require patience. His brilliant Near Death (1989), about the intensive care unit at Boston’s Beth Israel Hospital, runs for almost six hours.

Needless to say, there’s no CGI. Menus-Plaisirs is punctuated by shots of real, mouth-watering food, and most of the conversations are about how it might best be presented to customers. There are long takes of waiters speaking to diners about the meals, of the sommelier advising about wine choices, of the fromager pitching the splendours on offer from his super-abundant cheese trolley, of chefs dropping by at tables to catch up with regulars or to make newcomers feel welcome.

Though the people who frequent these places are obviously not from the working classes, it becomes apparent that many of those who work there might be.

Wiseman has fashioned a very modern portrait of a service industry centred on high-quality food.

Pervading it all is the notion that dining is akin to a theatrical performance with everyone involved putting on a show of one kind or another. This is most apparent in the contrast between Le Bois sans feuilles’ very formal, upmarket style and the more relaxed air that prevails at La Colline. Diners dress and act in both places, putting on particular kinds of costume to suit the formal or informal tone. It’s equally evident in the uniforms the staff wear, the way they talk to their guests and to each other.

It might never be mentioned, but the presence of a camera only underlines the performative aspects of the entire process. Nobody looks at it, but everyone can’t help but be aware of it and act in line with what they think their roles require. Wiseman even takes us behind the scenes to observe a training session where the waiters are instructed on the “codes of conduct” dictating how they should act when dealing with each other and the diners.

It’s also worth noting that neither restaurant is plagued by the piped music that some poor souls in the business mistake for “atmosphere”. The film’s soundtrack comes from the warm hum of conversation in the background, the sounds (and silences) of people at work, or the twittering of birds in the natural surrounds.

The toque-topped kitchen staff at Le Bois sans feuilles all go about their assignments with a quiet determination that underlines their dedication to their mission in life. Whatever they’re actually thinking, they’re outwardly respectful when their superiors in the culinary hierarchy express disapproval of their endeavours. Being there to learn is the governing principle, but the kitchen at La Colline seems a much happier workplace to acquire an education than the one at Le Bois sans feuilles, for all its sleek, spotless splendour and natural light.

Wiseman has fashioned a very modern portrait of a service industry centred on high-quality food. He enables us to see the funny side of it all – the diners whose eyes seem to be glazing over as the sommelier’s spiel threatens to spiral out of control, the American businessman who theatrically swirls his wine over and over, and over, before nodding a knowing assent – but he also appreciates the artistic impulses involved in creating it.

Menus-Plaisirs – Les Troisgros is streaming on DocPlay now.

Find out the next TV, streaming series and movies to add to your must-sees. Get The Watchlist delivered every Thursday.