A Defense of a Sub Par Vintage in Wine; Through the Works of Woody Allen

“Thought: Why does man kill?  He kills for food.  Not only for food.  Frequently there must be a beverage.”  Woody Allen

I was watching Midnight in Paris last night I thought in reflection of Woody Allen’s career that I have been unfairly critical of off years in some of my favorite wines.  I grew up a fan of Woody Allen, the silliness of Bananas (Snake bite scene is classic) and Sleeper was perfect for my adolescence, and after Annie Hall I watched everything he did.  By the time he did Zelig and Purple Rose of Cairo I considered him a true artist (I was arrogant and pretentious enough to believe that mattered), even though I laughed less.  But somewhere after Hannah and Her Sister and before Bullets over Broadway I didn’t pay attention.  I read some bad revues and didn’t show up at the theatre.  What did I miss? 

Maybe I didn’t miss a thing, but maybe I missed a lot.  Good things, great things, if not in their entirety, then in moments and ideas.  We shouldn’t abandon artists for performances, works or wines that do not rise to the highest level of their greatest works.  If we do, if the artist or winemaker can lose an audience that easily then why would they take risks?  We encourage mediocrity when we will applaud only the best vintage.  We say, ‘go for almost always good but never great’, ‘stay a little in the middle’, ‘it is better to be consistent than brilliant’.  No!  Be brilliant, and if there are flops there are flops.  They must be able to dare to make mistakes, to have the courage to expose their lesser works and move on.  As Mr. Allen himself once said, “If you’re not failing every now and again, it’s a sign you’re not doing anything very innovative.”

Woody Allen’s Bullets Over Broadway confirmed he was not in decline a few years back and now Midnight in Paris is the reward for his fans.  Artists don’t decline; Allen Scott’s 2010 Sauvignon Blanc proves he still makes great wine after the blah 2009.  They may fall out of fashion, they may publish brooding works or make a strange inaccessible Cab Francs, but they are still the most capable to bring us what we enjoy, what we will cherish and remember and you don’t or you shouldn’t let go of these things so easily.  We are often too critical.  In the wine business we feed on that–rating and reviewing, thumbs up or thumbs down, deciding what should be sought after or avoided.  What we should be doing is finding real artists, struggling or otherwise and support them, knowing there will be subpar performances and there will be those moments, moments when we are surprised. When they take our view of the world, of what we thought we knew, and present new information that changes how we see things.  That is what great art is, and what great winemaking is, not a pleasant drink that doesn’t upset us, that’s just chemistry+marketing.  Art requires courage and we should reward the brave.