Directed by Gabriel Axel — Screenplay by Gabriel Axel.
Based on the story of the same name from Danish author Karen Blixen (sometimes referred to as Isak Dinesen, which is her pen name), Gabriel Axel’s Babettes Gæstebud (international title: Babette’s Fest) follows Martine (played by Birgitte Federspiel) and Filippa (played by Bodil Kjer), two elderly and deeply religious sisters who take care of the religious community in which they live in a small village on the western coast of Jutland in Denmark. The community hasn’t been the same since the sisters’ father — a respected preacher — passed, the sisters haven’t been able to live out their romantic hopes and dreams because of him, and whenever the townspeople get together, it becomes clear that they are dissatisfied with their predicament. Eventually, a French housekeeper, Babette (played by Stéphane Audren), stops by the sisters’ house and begs to be able to stay with them. The sisters can’t pay her, but they allow her to stay with them and work alongside them. When Babette, one day, finds out that she has won the lottery, she decides that she ought to give back and let the community experience a true and lavish French dinner.
Earlier this year, I added Denmark’s most famous foodie flick to my watchlist of film-related New Year’s Resolutions for 2024. This is because, for a long time, it hadn’t felt right that I had yet to see Denmark’s first Oscar win for Best Foreign Language Film when it had only been released six years before I was born. What was my excuse? Why had this Gabriel Axel classic, a favorite of Pope Francis (apparently), escaped me for so long? Well, to tell you the truth, I think that despite the reverence with which you’ll find Danish film fans comment on its place in Danish cinema history, I don’t think it has been widely seen by my generation and the generations younger than mine. This was evident from the recent poll on the most popular Danish films which, notably, didn’t include Babette’s Feast.
It is a film whose success, I think, is quite perplexing initially because of how dated the early parts of it feel. The first thirty-to-forty minutes are quite slow, and the use of a narrator feels questionable at first (even though it is delivered by stage and screen legend Ghita Nørby). There were times when I watched it that it felt like it was perhaps the wrong choice to structure it the way that it is — with an extended early focus on the pious village and the sisters’ lives rather than on the past life of Babette. Eventually, the point of the film revealed itself extremely clearly thus making these choices more understandable, even though I still think there could be a version of this film that shows some of Babette’s experiences.
In addition to the aforementioned dated scenes, I ought also to mention the nightmare sequence that seems almost comical with modern eyes and the conversation that General Löwenhielm has with his younger self. I think there are probably quite a few more interesting and transfixing ways to showcase these doubts than what we have here, but, perhaps, this is solely a sign of the times and the state of the industry. Nevertheless, these elements did feel like they could be improved upon.
At the same time, I see this film’s appeal. When Babette eventually wins the lottery after the time jump, the film overcomes the early slow structure and becomes decidedly more emotionally investing (despite this later half including some of those aforementioned dated, questionable sequences). The comedy in the picture becomes extremely clear with the pious townspeople’s ignorance when faced with foreign pleasures being the primary source of it, but, certainly, Babette’s reaction to seeing the lack of artistry to the sisters’ intstructions on how to cook a meal also has some comedy to it. The recurring “Hallelujah,” changed in tone from time to time (sometimes being quite funny), and I warmed to the film significantly just as the townspeople loosened up and managed to let go of their puritanical restraint.
There is a scene where old grievances and doubts about the afterlife and God’s verdict consume the townspeople so much that it makes them unable to see clearly how best to enjoy this later stage of their lives, despite the troublesome paths that they have walked to get there. The puritanical anxiety has taken away their joie de vivre, and they are unaware of how they should cope with being on the receiving end of gifts given with gratitude. To see the closed-off and aimless townspeople — who are lost without their preacher — be reawakened to the joys of life, the feelings involved with granting and receiving mercy, and the little blessings that we are afforded from time to time is genuinely heartwarming perhaps especially because of how we, in this film, find people at the end of their lives fearful of closing their final chapters incrementally becoming ready to let go of old injustices and, instead, finding hope in the plentiful promise of a life hereafter and the love found between the people around us. The dinner sequence does more than warm the heart, it also appeals to the senses as the reactions of the people at the dinner table become gradually more and more spirited. You feel how good this must be through the care shown when depicting the preparation involved with cooking the meal, the serving of it, and the eventual reactions to it.
“In Paradise, you will be the great artist that God intended you to be. Oh, you will delight the angels!”
Despite the early stages of the film that made me question the film’s global reputation, the second half of it turned me into a true believer due to the emotionally rewarding and affecting storyline, the sometimes gorgeous imagery (that, at one point, reminded me quite a bit of the Skagen Painters’ beach paintings), and the sweet- and kindness of its central message about the richness of gift-giving and the joy of mercy, openness, love, and artistry in full effect — in totality adding up to a truly felt generosity of spirit.
8.5 out of 10
– Review Written by Jeffrey Rex Bertelsen.
I'm Jeffrey Rex 