Burgundy

Dweck and Kershaw never lose their sense of whimsy, often relaying the film’s sharper jabs with the most pleasure of all.

Poetry and beauty color their appreciation of the wine’s complex balance, its bright fruit notes, vibrant acidity and earthy mineral undertones. The doc gives the impression of being granted access to an exclusive milieu, though it’s less about snobbery than artistry.

Their latest doc, the light-bodied Burgundy, is even more of a vibe movie than their previous efforts, an airy, featherweight but surprisingly sweet collection of moments spent with a winemaking dynasty in the titular French region during a pivotal season.

What separates it from Hunters and other films like it, however, is how it playfully narrativizes the stories on show, stretching the boundaries of what a doc like this can and should look like in the process.

It’s the equivalent of a well-made coffee table book, the Taschen school of cinema. But perhaps that’s just my uneducated palate.

Amiably riffing on the viticultural tradition of the eponymous winemaking region of eastern-central France, Burgundy has more fragrance than substance and even then, too quickly loses its bouquet.