I have always been vaguely aware that there was sometime in the 70’s when my parents started drinking California wine. Before that, they only drank French-- when anyone was looking, that is. In fact, their little secret was a box of Almaden which they kept on top of the old fridge in the laundry room. It had a little plastic spigot in front and held a bladder filled with red or white. I remember it that way—as red or white, no further defining nomenclature. That red or white wine was always poured in the laundry room and brought out to the table in glasses so that its source and pedigree were not part of the drinking experience.
But yes, there was a time in the 70’s when all that changed. Suddenly there were California whites and reds in bottles that were not confined to the laundry room. It had become interesting to drink California wine. It had become important. What I never knew was the story of the little tasting that happened in Paris in 1976 that unwittingly triggered a revolution: The democratization and the globalization of the wine business.
When I heard the story, a lightbulb went off for me personally. Because I suddenly knew what had changed my parents’ thinking about wine back in 1976. At the time I was still too young to drink—in the U.S. that is. In France, where my mother’s sister lived, and where we often visited in the summer, wine was available to the young. Though discouraged by my parents, somehow in Europe that discouragement was less absolute that at home in Connecticut and we, the children, sometimes had a bit of wine with dinner.
For independent filmmakers, like Randy and myself, the choice of what movie to make next—the choice of what story to tell-- is a rather large commitment because of the sheer magnitude of effort and focus and time required to bring an indie to life. We were not convinced we wanted to make a movie about the Paris tasting until we met Jim and Bo Barrett of Chateau Montelena. Self-described farmers, Jim and Bo were clearly great characters for a movie: men with a passion, men who take big risks, perfectionists and battle weary idealists, and a father and son who have a long working history of collaboration and conflict. Within five minutes of our initial meeting, Jim and Bo were making a serious money bet over something that eludes me now—in other words, something minor.
The life journey of Jim Barrett is also something I related to personally. Randy and I had worked in the studio system for many years making other people’s projects, never able to get our own material off the ground. A few years ago, we decided to change that. So we took a loan against our house and used the money to make an independent feature, a passion project entitled MARILYN HOTCHKISS BALLROOM DANCING & CHARM SCHOOL. It was no little risk. We had a one-year-old and a three year old at the time and bills aplenty to pay. But we had a dream and there was only one way we could see to make that dream a reality.
Similarly Jim Barrett had been a successful attorney in Southern California and he left it all behind in pursuit of his own artistic dream. He wanted to make wine—fine handcrafted wine. He too had a family and he too took enormous personal risk to get Chateau Montelena off the ground.
Therein lies the bones of a compelling story—at least in our opinion. A story that became historical after a little tasting in Paris in 1976.