Year of the Comet: The strangest Movie
Nikita Malhotra
July 26, 2024
I relish the times I am asked about my favorite wine related movie, because unlike with a book recommendation, I embrace the kitschy and utterly ridiculous film, the 1992 ‘Year of the Comet’. Whereas Ian Maxwell Campbell’s ‘Wayward Tendrils of the Vine’ is a book I constantly pick up and contemplate, with each paragraph demanding my attention and forcing me to negotiate between remembering the details of a wine from the particular growing season of a vintage to the winemakers choices pertaining to that vintage and the universal themes and sweeping philosophical notions that inspire a person to pick up a glass in the first place. I don’t usually recommend this book, even though it’s creased spine and dog-eared pages gives away its ranking on my bookshelf. Wine books are difficult in that there are those that are more reference based, others that are memoirs and travelogues, and then there are novels (I have at least 6 wine-related graphic novels as well). I prefer something in between all these formats, literary prowess with nuggets of information. And every year there are wonderful books that are published that fit my criteria, and so my list grows longer and longer.
But film is tricky, wine just doesn’t translate well on celluloid. We witnessed the death of Merlot in Sideways and felt patriotic about the judgement of Paris in Bottle Shock. I actually like both films, but there are times where scenes that were meant for entertainment veer into cringe territory, these moments are where the theme of wine is belabored and forced. Maybe I just want more cringe, because Year of the Comet really never comes up for air in terms of how ridiculous it feels. I guess I should preface that I adore John Waters, and my four years of living in Baltimore combined with my formative years as a resident of the East Village renting movies at Kims off Saint Marks definitely informed this choice. But I can’t think of another wine adjacent film that I will joyfully watch over and over again. It currently hold 0% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes! It’s incredible that this is a Peter Yates film and was written by William Goldman, same screenwriter of the Princess Bride and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. It’s redemption is truly that it is singular in how off the rails it presents.
The film starts with the line “owning a great bottle of wine is like owning a piece of history, you can’t ever own too much history.'“ This is said in a faint Southern drawl in a dark steam room between two men. In the next scene we are in London, where the heroine, Margaret Harwood, is the daughter of an esteemed connoisseur in the wine trade. She is a better taster than her half brother Richard, but he’s British, and she’s American, and I guess there weren’t a lot of women in the wine trade then? He mentions that he looks forward to her being a bitter old spinster. Although this takes place in the 90’s this initial sequence feels more like it’s from the 40’s, or maybe I have transposed Katharine Hepburn in my internal quest to make this film more manageable for my brain. There is an undertone of British snobbery; we are meant to understand that Americans don’t have taste when it comes to luxury goods like fine wine. This concept is reinforced with this wine tasting scene, watching men in suits spit expensive wine into spittoons. Unprompted, after overhearing a suited man sigh that he thought that 1964 was a good vintage, Margaret describes how the 64 vintage was better for those in Bordeaux that picked before the morning of September 17th, before the rains started, and she mentions Petrus, but the stuffy British man ignores her, and we are left to ponder what else she could have rattled off about this vintage. Defeated, she walks away holding a tray of half empty glasses and is asked by an American man, clearly an outsider, clearly the man who will be her romantic lead, if they have any Budweiser at the wine tasting. There is so much to unpack in the first 5 minutes of this movie!
The Budweiser man follows our heroine into a kitchen area where she is slicing cheese and buzzing around the small space. She is passionate and resolute in her appreciation of wine and the decorum that comes with it. It's as if she doesn't realize that her presence to this outsider is that of a domestic woman. But he is the only man so far to recognize her in this space and to listen to her. Always trust a man who drinks Budweiser?
Margaret's father seems to pity his daughter. He alludes to the fact that it is not his fault her mother escaped with her to America. Although he recognizes a true acolyte of wine, and his proper heir, her brazen American sensibility is alien to the man. When he gets a call about a cellar in Scotland to be appraised, he throws Margaret a bone. And so begins the adventure!
So our heroine is now in the highlands. She settles into her room at the inn and as she mentions that she is going to the McPherson Castle, the sweet old Scottish innkeeper is about to warn her but ominously ends the scene, with fear in her eyes, by saying, ‘never mind.’ And then we cut to a torture scene, at what the audience can surmise is said castle. As the villain, a sinister and well dressed French man, is about to plunge a needle into the victim’s eye with promises of pain and suffering, he is interrupted by his lackey who points out of the window to an approaching car. In the next scene Margaret is greeted by our villain in a butler disguise and she proceeds, with American gumption, to demand that he open the door for her ‘cause she has a job to do! She must inspect the wine in the cellar.
Realizing she has no idea of the nefarious events taking place at the castle, our villain/butler acquiesces, and Margaret is allowed inside. Immediately she is disappointed by the bottles she finds in the dusty, abandoned looking space. She says to no one in particular “looks like the wine selection of a 7/11!” To the viewer it looks like a bunch of dusty Bordeaux bottles, but as the audience we trust her assessment. Alone, she begins to look around… a small oriental carpet seems suspect, and as she uncovers what is hidden underneath, we are just as giddy at the prospect of treasure as Margaret is. Down a short set of stairs, in this hidden part of the cellar, is a rather large wooden box. Upon inspecting the bottle inside this box, Margaret notices two important things about this methuselah of Lafite: first this is supposedly from the glorious 1811 vintage, the year of the comet, and second, Napoleon's seal is on the bottle. When she calls her father to inform him of what she has found, he is convinced they can sell the bottle for $1 million, in the end it sells for $5 million.
This is where I will stop from further plot spoilers, but will impress upon the reader that after this scene romance, action, suspense and, maybe unintentionally, humor proceeds to take over. Multiple chases in Scotland involving numerous bad guys and cars, helicopters and planes lead us to the French Riviera where the chase continues.
From a wine perspective, comet vintages are unique, there is no scientific understanding of how the sight of a comet right before harvest benefits the vines and the resulting wine. Throughout the history of wine, winemakers have attributed successful vintages and ideal weather conditions to the unexplained effects caused by the comets.
When I think of the 1811 vintage, I think of Veuve Clicquot's vintage bottling from this year, and how this wine ushered in the modern concept of Champagne to the world. Implementing techniques such as remuage, also known as riddling, this Champagne was the first to preserve its bubbles and yet be rid of all the sediment. The 1811 Veuve Clicquot was also a wine that took wine marketing onto another level, with Louis Bohne, the lead sales agent for Veuve Clicquot, sneaking the wine into the Russian market whilst Barbe-Nicole Clicquot, the widow, distracted the Prussian soldiers, who occupied the region, by opening up her cellars with all the Champagne they could drink. With the introduction of Champagne to foreign markets, the charm and success of Champagne was solidified.
Widow Clicquot is in theatres right now, a movie that is completely the opposite of Year of the Comet. A film that tells the story of a strong, resilient and fearless woman. And this is a film that is more relevant to 1811 and how important of a vintage it is for the wine world. I hold out hope for more films like Year of the Comet, but maybe if our heroine, Margaret, had seen a film such as Widow Clicquot, she wouldn't have to go on a wild goose chase to prove her worth in the wine world.
