Back at home, my family always watches movies when we eat dinner together. Whereas some people may decry it as not truly spending quality time together – to them, it might be seen as the equivalent of using phones at the dinner table, often deemed impolite – it’s our way of having conversation. We react to moments and scenes; we discuss what this actor is doing now over each bite of food. It’s a cinematic dining experience that combines my two loves, food and film, and one that I’ve been longing to replicate here. The closest I’ve come to it here at Oxford is watching movie clips on my laptop while eating a Najar’s wrap, but it doesn’t quite feel the same.
For that reason, I was so excited when I heard about Taste Film, an immersive cinematic dining experience that pairs your favorite movies with a multi-course dining menu. Each dish is strategically themed and served during pivotal moments of the film. I immediately had to book my ticket for “The Hunger Games” (2012) in London, mainly because I thought it was ironic to be dining while watching a film with “hunger” in the title.
I chose the classic menu, which I have to say was amazing. Upon being seated, you were presented with a trivia quiz for the film and an interactive sheet on whether or not you would survive the Games (my quiz results told me I would be a victor, which was very affirming). It was evident that there was extensive research into what made sense for every moment of the narrative. When Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence) and Gale (Liam Hemsworth) shared bread on the screen, we were served focaccia and baba ghanoush. When Katniss shot an apple with her arrow, they slid a plate of roasted apple filled with feta and thyme. As the games started, we were given honey and garlic chicken skewers dangling from a vine, a nod to the nature element, in addition to a “care package” of rice and salad served in tins like the movie.
I thoroughly loved the sensory quality and the organisers’ enthusiasm during the experience. Their attention to detail in both food and film was truly groundbreaking. It was an incredibly meaningful curation to have food reflect film at every plot point in a cinematic dining experience. In fact, I almost became emotional during the audience’s applause at the end because, finally, it seemed like there were people who visibly cared as deeply about food and film as I did.
Something I’ve been struggling with here at Oxford is the idea that I’m not the best fit for the university, both academically and socially. I joked to one of my friends back in the States that “I think I’m too LA for the UK”. My all-consuming investment in the film industry means that while my peers are out drinking at pubs or clubbing together (which appear to be central aspects of the “Oxford experience”), I’m often found dining alone or at cinemas solo-watching the latest releases.
Starting from my undergraduate years, I’ve been prone to receiving implicit and explicit criticisms about my personal preferences, which I admit contributed to a few devastating friendship losses over time. I’ve encountered scrutiny in many instances throughout my life for not attending parties, for going out and watching films in cinemas that are already available on streaming services, and for choosing to spend time and money on solo experiences with food and/or film, rather than on collective activities with others. Then I wonder if that’s why I still haven’t connected with anyone in my college and if that’s what I should be striving for instead.
I start thinking of ways I can justify myself to others. Yet, as I do so, I get a bit confused because it’s really just a matter of different people spending their resources on the things that are important to them. It’s a conflict between distinct value systems; when I worked in LA’s entertainment industry, for example, there was a general reverence for cinema with an overarching social argument that audiences should go back to movie theatres to watch movies. My daily excitement came from getting to talk with my co-workers about our latest moviegoing experiences. They would have loved hearing about my Taste Film experience, I think.
Cinemas constantly hosted special events and screenings for movies that have been available for ages on streaming platforms. I encountered many select dishes at LA restaurants themed around films. There are people like me out there, I tell myself now, who love food and film paired together just as much as I do.
So, I try to remind myself that it depends on context. That doesn’t stop me from moping in my room because I feel like no one around me understands that my priorities aside from coursework and family are food and film experiences. I can feel myself being socially labeled as “weird” or an “odd one out” or, worse, “wasteful” with my Oxford experience simply because of the decisions I make about what I do with my own life. It’s not like I haven’t met great people here who are respectful of that. It’s not that I’m not excited to talk to people who understand me, because I am, and I genuinely look forward to seeing them in class. It’s just that I’m not willing to compromise my own values in order to attempt to connect in settings that I often feel overstimulated or uncomfortable in.
Sometimes, I fall into the trap of fearing I’m missing out, or FOMO. Then, instead of continuing the pity party for myself, I choose to go out, eat, and see a film. I think Taste Film’s experience is especially well-done. I could say that it was imperfect — I noticed my table was wobbly during the film and there were a few technical issues with the movie player that were later resolved — but it was also one of the happiest moments I’ve had as a student at Oxford thus far. I went alone. Yet, it didn’t feel like it. It felt like people understood me: both the organisers and all the people in that room who, like me, had spent time and money to be there.
And as for why I think “The Hunger Games” has become more meaningful to me since coming to Oxford, it’s because it’s so easy here to fall into the trap of competition. Of course, our classroom engagement isn’t a fight to the death, far from it. Still, as we discuss our eventual theses and how we’re spending our time here, there’s a subtle undercurrent of value assignment. It seems like we’re unconsciously attributing strengths and weaknesses to people based on how well they conform to the social “rules” of being an Oxford student. If my cinematic dining experience has taught me anything, it’s that there are thematic parallels between fiction and reality. What reassures me is that, like in the film, these “rules” can always be broken.
When others ask why I want to invest resources in cinematic dining experiences rather than watching movies for free on my laptop in my room, I want to say that it’s because of the audience. While watching a film, you laugh with others; you cringe with others. In a sense, even the imperfections remind me of being at home, reacting to scenes happening on the occasionally-laggy TV while we’re having dinner around the dining table. There’s a shared sense of joy in those spaces, reminding me that I don’t need to go to pubs or clubs for community. I don’t even need to talk at all. For me, dining and watching a movie with total strangers is enough.