‘Burgundy’ Review: A Warm, Witty Winemaking Vibe Documentary You’ll Want to Pair with a Glass of Red

Venice: But you don't need to be wine-drunk to savor the "The Truffle Hunters" directors Michael Dweck and Gregory Kershaw's airy immersion into ancient French tradition.

American documentary directors Michael Dweck and Gregory Kershaw have made delicately poetic ethnographies their filmmaking raison d’être. From the black-and-white Argentine rodeo culture portrait “Gaucho Gaucho” to trailing dogs chasing the elusive Alba truffle in Northern Italy in “The Truffle Hunters,” the filmmakers also serve as cinematographers on all their work. That means that while the requisites of making a vérité documentary demand a certain distance, there’s also a degree of lyrical blocking and framing suggestive of fiction storytellers.

Their latest doc, the light-bodied “Burgundy,” is even more of a vibe movie than their previous efforts, an airy, featherweight but surprisingly sweet collection of moments spent with a winemaking dynasty in the titular French region during a pivotal season. And a possible change of hands. Dweck and Kershaw spent two years embedded with the sommeliers, laborers, and other inhabitants of the region’s most celebrated vineyards to capture a sense of ancient tradition dating back to the Romans. The film‘s shuffle among the ensemble — including 80-something wine estate mogul Bertrand, his wanderlusting grandson Melchior, trusted worker Enzo, and the budding sommelier named Céleste whom Enzo is falling for — can be dizzying.

Some characters, like the handsome and erudite-beyond-his-years Enzo, merit more screen time than others. Also a great onscreen character is the wine critic Guillaume who, when not applying his faculties to the tannic particulars of a glass, is rehashing a recent split-up on the psychoanalytic couch. There’s also a charmingly type-A maître d’ who probably knows where the bodies are buried, if there are any, in these here provinces.

Winemaking in a quaint country town is not without its rigid class hierarchies dating back to 160 years, for example, on the property Bertrand oversees after being handed it across several generations. He’s ready to make Melchior his successor, but Bertrand’s seasoned joie de vivre for wine production isn’t exactly reciprocated by his grandson. Céleste, hailing from Paris and training under sommelier Eric, also feels out of her depth in terms of trying to make an imprint in such a storied, long-lived institution. Sure, she’s a wine connoisseur — who who drinks wine regularly doesn’t think they are? — but that’s not necessarily an arbiter of taste.

Audiences will most charm to the fast-blossoming romance between Enzo and Céleste, whom the filmmakers insert into a “Bonnie and Clyde”-style, 8mm-shot fantasy sequence in Depression Era wears. Editor Pauline Gaillard makes a very wry match cut between a close-up on snails mating and then to our young lovers lying in each other’s arms. These visual winks and clever in-jokes demonstrate how Dweck and Kershaw aren’t averse to adding their own personality to the material. Enzo’s proprietary ambitions are suddenly undermined by first love, ever an unexpected complication in the journey of coming of age that also gives “Burgundy” its zesty bite.

“Burgundy” lacks the discovered-upon profundity of Dweck and Kershaw’s previous efforts, which also took them on ethnographic exports to worlds probably far more unknown than the world of wine. The film, still, is well-balanced, with dryness of humor and plenty of sweetness across the ensemble and their dynamics — thankfully, without a sugary aftertaste. It’ll certainly have you reaching for a glass of red. Or two. But you don’t need to be wine-drunk to appreciate “Burgundy.”

Grade: B

“Burgundy” premiered at the 2026 Venice Film Festival before playing Telluride. It is currently seeking U.S. distribution.