Review: The Food That Fuels

The Food That Fuels begins with a compelling opening scene. Although it is a documentary and the narrator’s voice draws our attention to the information presented to us, the aerial camera movement, gradually approaching the ground, gives the film a cinematic tone. It almost feels as though we are watching a narrative film rather than a documentary. This impression arises from the filmmaker’s careful attention to cinematic detail and sensitivity to visual aspects of the film. The visuals themselves are filled with a cinematic aestheticism, offering an added layer of significance to the film. Take, for example, the aerial shot of workers unloading tomato crates into an empty truck, the scene of them carrying buckets of lemons, shots of people buying fruit at a market, the shots showing crops being planted, or the stunning views of farms and pastures. We are witnessing the work of a filmmaker who demonstrates a remarkable understanding of the temporal value of each shot and is aware of how these images should be put together to achieve the desired impact. This effect sometimes serves as a complement to the narrator’s commentary, while at other times, the visuals stand alone as inherently captivating moments.

Because of the inclusion of interviews with various individuals, it’s important to reflect on the fact that the director skillfully avoids turning the film into a standard ‘talking head’ film. This is achieved, first, by keeping each interviewee’s screen time as brief as possible, and second, by interspersing the interviews with dynamic transitions to other shots/scenes. Consequently, the film does not become monotonous or boring.

Although the chosen subject for the film has been explored in other documentaries, the filmmaker’s emphasis on the role of editing and the presence of a clear, thought-out vision for each segment proves greatly effective. The result is the sense that we are witnessing fresh insights on the topic. This reinforces the broader idea that how something is conveyed can be more important than what is conveyed. A novel idea expressed poorly can feel boring, while a simple thought delivered with skill can attract a wide audience. In an era marked by a surge in documentary filmmaking, The Food That Fuels stands out as the work of a true cinema enthusiast—someone who understands the importance of every frame and every cut.

Another standout feature of the documentary is the diversity of perspectives it presents. To achieve a polyphonic narrative and avoid falling into a repetitive loop, the filmmaker brings forth the opinions of various individuals, as contrasted as they are. Each person contributes uniquely to the discussion or advances the central theme, and this is done without any jarring or distracting shifts. While the focus remains firmly on the subject matter, the diversity of viewpoints keeps the discussion dynamic. This principle extends beyond dialogue to the visuals. The film takes us seamlessly from factories to villages, from villages to farmlands, from farmlands to poultry farms, and beyond. The shift between these locations, paired with the varied perspectives of the interviewees, results in a more comprehensive understanding of the subject. The filmmaker’s artistic genius lies in creating this vision piece by piece. It seems important that each segment of the film holds intrinsic meaning, but it is the cumulative impact—the impression left on the viewer’s mind—that resonates most deeply.

We must remember that with the increasing number of documentaries, many methods and techniques begin to feel repetitive for the audience. Numerous storytelling techniques are tested, and audiences, through extensive exposure to cinematic works, become familiar with many of these ideas. In such circumstances, what becomes crucial is for the filmmaker to use a combination of visual and auditory ideas to transport us to a fresh, less explored space. The sound design of this documentary achieves precisely that, by brilliantly using well-timed silences when necessary, and strategically using the voice of individuals who help capture and sustain the viewer’s focus.

The Food That Fuels excels at presenting and expanding on a subject that, with weaker execution, could have become boring and unwatchable. It is the filmmaker’s craft that, by utilizing the raw materials at hand and employing film language and techniques, constructs and unveils a unique world before our eyes. By the end of the film, we gain a transformed understanding of the topic at hand. The viewer’s perspective at the conclusion of the documentary is significantly different from what it was at the start, having been exposed to dimensions of the topic previously unknown.

For the filmmaker, what matters most is knowing where and how each technique and element can make the greatest impact on the film as a whole. The director immerses us in the lives of these farmers, moving between different times and places to offer us a fresh perspective on their lives. As a result, It seems important to the filmmaker that they avoid clichés and redundant portrayals, steering clear of reinforcing preconceived notions about the lives of farmers. Instead, the filmmaker aims to present a fresh and nuanced depiction of their reality, making this documentary an effort in innovation; an exploration of a subject that, though examined many times in different ways, still holds unexplored aspects that deserve our attention.

Today, documentary filmmaking has become an increasingly and challenging field, largely due to the growing number of documentaries and documentary filmmakers. Yet, there are always ways for a filmmaker to approach their chosen topic in an innovative manner. The Food That Fuels exemplifies such an approach, offering a viewing experience that is both enjoyable and enlightening. Along the way, it reveals a balanced filmmaking style—one that avoids excess and seeks to achieve its goals through the logical and thoughtful integration of the content and form.