Wine Country (2019)
The idea for Wine Country was borne from an actual trip to Sonoma, California, about three years prior to filming, to celebrate former “Saturday Night Live” player Rachel Dratch’s 50th birthday, which consisted of a bunch of Dratch’s former colleagues from the show, many within the cast of this film. The fictional trip here changes the setting to Napa Valley, California, but the premise is essentially the same, with Dratch joined by fellow “SNL” players Amy Poehler, Ana Gasteyer, Tina Fey, and Maya Rudolph, as well as a couple of the writers from that era, Paula Pell and Emily Spivey, for a few days of fun in the bucolic wine country alluded to in its title.
Poehler, who makes her debut here as a director of a feature film after directing several episodes for television, conceived of making that trip into a movie, along with Emily Spivey, who co-wrote the actual screenplay with another former “SNL” writer, Liz Cackowski, one of the few who did not go on the actual trip. Some actual things that happened on that trip get worked in here, from the hiring of a tarot reader to tell their fortunes, to Devon (played by Jason Schwartzman), an amalgam of the wine trip chaperone and the cook that attempts to serve up a special paella that seemingly takes forever to actually get made.
Rather than “SNL”, the women on the fictional trip all share a connection by being former waitresses of a beloved pizza parlor in Chicago who all became great friends during their stint there. Since then, they’ve all gone their separate ways, career-wise, but come together periodically to share major life events like this. They all share distinct personalities, with Poehler’s Abby overplanning their entire itinerary (which probably reflected her having to keep all of her boisterous, longtime comedic friends focused and on time as a director), Rudolph’s Naomi expecting the results of a critical medical test, Dratch’s Rebecca stuck in a stale marriage, Pell’s Val looking for love, and Gasteyer’s Catherine unable to unplug with a major deal going down that will affect her career. Tina Fey was initially considered to be part of the main players but lacked the time to commit to the role, instead, taking the smaller part of the earthy and no-nonsense owner of the rental house, a gruff and grumbly widow who is beyond caring about what comes out of her mouth at this stage of her life.
Much of the momentum for the film comes from the natural camaraderie that the women share, likely on and off the camera. It truly does feel like they’ve known each other for some time, and though the presentation can be a bit flat and stiff, there’s good fun to be had in watching how the women play each other for laughs, many that surely must have been ad-libbed on the spot. They share not only their bond from their old pizzeria job but they are also all around the same age, so much of their repartee consists of sharing “D.U.I. songs” (old pop tunes they tend to play and sing loudly when they get inebriated, a la The Bangles “Eternal Flame”, Bell Biv Devoe’s “Poison”, or Kim Wilde’s “Kids in America”), and impromptu dance parties and singing. Some of the humor comes from the generational divide they have with some of the millennials they encounter along the way, with whom they share very few cultural touchstones to discuss, but eventually, there is a mutual appreciation that does develop despite the differences. And, of course, plenty of jokes about getting older, spurned on by the tagline, “Things we say now”, which is kind of like, “That’s what she said” if the “she” were an older woman.
Actual locale work in and near Calistoga, CA, gives the comedy authenticity. The interesting thing to note is that none of the women who go on the trip to wine country seem to care that much about the quality of the wine they are drinking, unlike, say, a wine-oriented movie like Sideways. In fact, they tend to make fun of the vintners for being proud about their own work, such as a scene in which they semi-mock one of them for touting their organic wine-making process and the sedimentary residue left in the wine due to it (Tartrates, but referred to as “wine diamonds” by the sommelier (played by co-writer Cackowski), which sets off the mockery). Really, it’s a trip into a beautiful part of the country where they can drink, be free, relax, have fun, and get reacquainted – whether they are drinking a $6, a $60, or a $600 a bottle wine, it would all be lost on them.
The same might also be said about the movie they are making, as Poehler and company aren’t so much interested in making the finest cinema possible, but in getting together with their pals and having fun making a movie about their experience getting together to have fun. As such, it does offer up something you rarely get to see in films, with are the perspectives and conversations among a group of middle-aged women about life, love, career, and growing old. It is in these conversations that Wine Country drifts from being a forgettable trifle to actually digging into some heartfelt truths and ironies about the desire and need to be with one’s friends, through thick and thin, as they venture into more advanced age, carrying all of life’s baggage they’ve accumulated, and yet, where they feel like they need to set the table for their spouses, their kids, or their own retirement. It’s about forming and reforming intimate connections with others who share a similar value set and outlook in a world that is increasingly different. It’s not ostentatious about this angle, and it may have merely been a happy accident that they stumble into it, but that theme ends up coming through clearly by the end. Sure it’s a little messy, and more than a bit slack, but organically so. Just try to see the story as resulting in a few “thematic diamonds” that have resulted from the film-making process.
Qwipster’s rating: B-
MPAA Rated: R for crude humor, sexual humor, and language
Running Time: 103 min.
Cast: Amy Poehler, Maya Rudolph, Rachel Dratch, Ana Gasteyer, Paula Pell, Emily Spivey, Tina Fey, Jason Schwartzman
Director: Amy Poehler
Screenplay: Liz Cackowski, Emily Spivey