Casting a Sideways Look at Wine, the Complexities of Romance, and Men Whining About Stuff
By Kevin Renick
“A bottle of wine is actually ALIVE! It continues to evolve. If I open a bottle of wine today, it would taste different than if I opened it on any other day. And it’s constantly evolving and gaining in complexity. Until it peaks, like your ’61. Then it begins its steady, inevitable decline. And it tastes so fucking good!”
— Maya (Virginia Madsen) to Miles (Paul Giamatti) during an intimate discussion in Sideways
I’m absolutely no expert, but I’ve certainly developed an appreciation of the cultural charm and infinite tasting universe of wine. Many years ago, I had a chance to visit some wineries in the Napa Valley in California on a solo excursion. More recently, my brother and I had an idyllic period when we visited wineries together in the Augusta and Hermann area of Missouri (the most popular wine-producing region in the state) whenever he visited from New York. It didn’t take me long to discover that wine could be a key ingredient at a sophisticated dinner gathering with friends and family or on a date with a woman. This last scenario became especially meaningful to me in the years following the 2004 release of Sideways, a movie destined to resonate with me on multiple levels.
Without a doubt, one of my most vivid memories of enjoying wine with a woman I adored was during the Christmas holiday season roughly a decade ago. I had fallen for someone big time, and we’d already enjoyed a few nice weekend wine tastings together by that point. Early one Saturday afternoon, we took a leisurely drive through the countryside and headed for the Blumenhof Winery at Dutzow, Missouri, the furthest away in a series of lovely wineries in the Augusta region. We'd listened to fabulous instrumental music in my car, enjoyed the winery’s festive decorations, and felt thrilled to see a fire blazing in the Blumenhof fireplace, perfect to warm our chilled bones from the frigid December weather. And the wines we sampled? All rather splendid that day, but we fell in love with a brand known as “Devil’s Den.” It was a luxuriant semi-dry red that absolutely did the trick for both of us. We purchased a bottle, had no trouble securing a cozy booth for ourselves, and proceeded to enjoy every sip of the beverage, every crackle of the fire nearby, and every delighted look we exchanged as this perfect day unfolded. Wine, the thrall of new love, the smell and vibe of the holidays, the cheery comments from the staff, a bit of music...what could possibly be better? Nothing, it turns out. I’ve thought of that day many times, and I can pull it from the memory banks as an example of a time I truly felt happy. Life was as GOOD as it could be.
Another day, longer ago, that also involved a woman...a very, very good first date with a fellow musician at her house. Yes, wine was part of the proceedings, with a sweetly sophisticated presentation that somehow led to an inadvertent lesson on how to kiss in an especially attentive manner. Again, this made a permanent impression on me.
And finally, my late close friend Susan, not a romantic partner but definitely a wine-drinking comrade in the early years of our friendship before she became ill, is worth mentioning here. She loved sharing a bottle of wine with me, sometimes over a spaghetti dinner she’d made. And she loved to laugh, something we did a lot of together.
The commonality in these three episodes from my past? Not just wine drinking. Nope, all three of these women saw the movie Sideways with me. All three of them liked it very much. And in the case of my “Devil’s Den” drinking partner, she liked the movie so much that we viewed it a number of times and quoted lines from it regularly, making each other giggle at reminders of certain scenes (“Did you drink and dial?” and “Do NOT go to the dark side!” were two prominent examples). But it was more than the memorable dialogue, more than the clear insights Sideways provides into the fine art of drinking and sharing wine that provided a bonding thing for my special girlfriend and me. It was the evolving commentary about hope for redemption, hope that you still might have a chance at real love, even if you’ve screwed something up in the past.
In the film, Miles (Paul Giamatti) and Jack (Thomas Haden Church) are two old college buddies who’ve screwed up a LOT. But Miles suggests a great trip for the duo: they will take a wine-tasting and golfing trip through the southern California wine region north of San Diego, just before Jack’s pending wedding to his fiancé Christine. The week is not destined to go as planned, however.
Miles is something of a wine connoisseur and wants to introduce Jack to the diverse wonders of his preferred libation, while they also golf, enjoy the scenery and do some nostalgic male bonding. “This trip isn’t about ME,” Miles tells his skeptical pal. “It’s about YOU. I want to show YOU a good time...we'll drink some good wine, play some golf and send YOU off in style.” But a couple of complications exist right from the get-go. Jack is by nature a horn dog, and despite his professed love for Christine, he views the trip as an excuse to get laid...as much as he can make it happen. He’s prone to flirting with just about any woman who waits on them, much to Miles’ chagrin. “You don’t understand my dilemma,” he tells Miles, who is right in challenging his friend on what exactly that “dilemma” is, even calling him an “infant” at one point.
For his part, Miles is awaiting word about the fate of his novel. A publisher has expressed some interest in the book, and Jack tells almost everyone he meets that the novel is going to be published. Miles is anxious about this, unable to “correct” his pal’s premature bravos…which leads to a couple of relatable but awkward scenes. Also, Miles is not quite over an unpleasant divorce from his ex, Victoria—a plot element that crops up repeatedly. But Maya (Virginia Madsen), a smart and friendly waitress at the Hitching Post, one of the regular stops on the journey of the two friends, has made small talk with Miles before and starts to have more substantial things to say to him as the story progresses. Jack picks up on the potential attraction right away and encourages Miles to pursue Maya, even facilitating a double date when Jack gains the interest of one of Maya’s colleagues at a winery, the feisty and self-assured Stephanie (Sandra Oh). Miles is non-committal about these developments early on. At one point Jack admonishes him firmly, “Don’t drink too much. I don’t want you passing out or going to the dark side. NO going to the dark side!”
Miles can't help himself at first. He DOES detour to the dark side and makes an ill-advised call to his ex-wife, Jack’s response: “Did you drink and dial?” is one of the movie's funniest lines. But once he settles down a tad and decides to warm up to Maya’s pleasant conversation and vast knowledge of wine (she’s studying horticulture at a nearby college), the movie hits its delightful stride.
Miles and Maya compare notes on wine tastings and grape harvests, with Miles repeatedly demonstrating his passion for pinot noir. There’s a truly elegant description of pinot which Giamatti renders with such grace and clarity, it probably increased sales of the varietal for years after the film’s release. Sideways is many things, and a primer on types of wine and the art of drinking it is certainly foremost among them. Miles has a sophisticated palate, and every major scene at a winery, especially the first one, adds to the casual viewer’s understanding of what wine tastings are all about. But it turns out that Maya’s palate is even more sophisticated, and Miles grows more and more impressed with his bright and comely companion. Meanwhile, Jack and Stephanie giggle and flirt shamelessly. They’re up for anything and everything, both with each other and with their more cautious friends.
There is a long montage sequence that I absolutely love—it is probably among my most favorite scenes in any film. We see a series of split-screen images of the four friends going to a winery, putting together a wonderful wine-imbued picnic which they enjoy in the shadows of a lovely vineyard. They’re all laughing and bonding… it’s romantic and upbeat, and accompanied by some tasty light jazz flavorings by composer Rolfe Kent. I’ve experienced outings of this nature more than once in my past relationships, and even a couple of times in a foursome situation similar to what’s depicted in the film. The ability of wine in particular to enhance a social occasion and specifically, to help facilitate tentative romantic intentions, is something I can talk about at length, and something the movie presents as a kind of inevitable plot undercurrent.
But bigger things are at stake here, always the case in an Alexander Payne movie (he directed). Miles reluctantly allows himself to start falling for Maya, especially after the deeply “vibey” evening that gives rise to Virginia Madsen’s unforgettable speech about the enduring artfulness and wonders of wine—a piece of writing that my late brother Kyle called some of the best screenwriting of that year. But Miles is hiding two secrets. First: his book is NOT getting published. (There are at least two major scenes about the angst of being a frustrated artistic type that any of us neurotic writers can relate to easily.) Miles is ready to give up and call himself a “failed writer.” Also, he and Jack have NOT mentioned the fact that Jack is to be married in a week. This renders Jack’s intense sexual relationship with Stephanie a cruel sham, and to the movie's credit, Jack gets his comeuppance in a fairly inventive way, leading to some of Thomas Haden Church’s best film acting ever, a couple of huge laughs, and some rather sobering commentary on “men behaving badly,” again, a personal thing in my life. I observed such things firsthand and was tempted to “go to the dark side” several times as a result.
Neither Jack nor Miles is a stellar example of manhood; however, the movie allows us to see them as multi-faceted, conflicted characters—the kind who perhaps CAN learn and grow up, if given a second chance. The bitter edge and possible drinking problem that might have led to Miles’ divorce (it’s not made abundantly clear) are elements that recede when Miles at least has a CHANCE to create something with the effervescent, soulful Maya. “I haven’t been with anyone since my divorce,” he tells her when the big revelation finally comes out. “So this is a really big deal for me.” As for Jack, he’s less philosophical when things come crashing down, and he stupidly leaves his wallet (with the engagement rings in it) at the home of one of his “conquests.” He’s got a dilemma, all right. “I know I fucked up!” he cries to Miles. “But I can’t lose Christine!”
In reflecting on the aspects of this film that hit home for me, I must certainly mention the varying attitudes towards women of my own male friends. A “different aesthetic” doesn’t begin to cover it. A guy I was roommates with way back in 1990 had the same kind of excessive self-confidence that Jack displays, and the same cavaliere attitude about seeking sexual gratification, without any intention of “getting serious” with the woman concerned. I was offended by such things, and resentful that someone like me, who respected women and sought mutual commitment in a relationship, was often the one staying home alone, trying not to “go to the dark side.” The subject was fraught with tension for many years.
Miles, on the other hand, is the self-doubting artistic type, the one who thinks the relationship he’s in is THE one, and can’t believe it when suddenly it’s apparently over. He second guesses everything, and has to be really, really persuaded to think that new love is possible again. Well, yes. Again, that has been me plenty of times. And the way Miles gazes at Maya right after their amazing shared dialogue about wine and grape harvests, is a look I recognize all too well. It’s simply, Wow, I love listening to this person and talking to her right now. Could this really be as magical as it kind of seems? Most of us can recall such a moment from our dating lives, feeling deeply impressed by and enamored with someone. And your main thought is: DON’T screw this up!
In the film, we see Miles is struggling with these same emotions, and feeling that he’s not worthy. Isn’t that common for everyone, too?
One of the most darkly funny (and emotionally authentic) scenes in the film happens when Miles discovers, through an insensitive revelation from Jack, that Victoria, his ex, is remarrying. This is something of a last straw for him. He creates a ruckus at a winery and has to be escorted out of the place by Jack. The two men tumble down the hillside of a vineyard, with Miles displaying the kind of self-destructive bent that’s painfully familiar to me. It's that moment when you finally don't care anymore about consequences...you just want to wallow in misery. But then Miles sees that he’s at the edge of a healthy pinot grapevine, and he looks closely at the ripened grapes with wonder and sadness. His fingers touch the grapes carefully. The delicate music that accompanies this scene still gives me chills. And it reminds me of many occasions from my own life, when even though I was feeling like the most pathetic loser, I was able to feel reverence and appreciation for the beauty of nature...a willow tree’s branches swaying by a woodland stream, the call of a Pileated Woodpecker, or a cluster of sunflowers at the edge of a meadow. I can’t count the number of times I’ve been in a state of sorrow over loneliness or lost love, and yet I could pause and appreciate enduring, simple examples of natural beauty.
The screenplay for Sideways is packed with detail and insight, and it won an Oscar for Payne and his collaborator Jim Taylor. Throw-away lines such as “I’m not drinking any Goddamn merlot! If anyone drinks any merlot I’m leaving!” were good for laughs, and were oft-quoted by wine-drinking fans of the movie. But most poignant for me, personally, among many lines of dialogue I could mention, was Jack’s utterance to a self-defeated Miles: “What’s with the hostility, man? I know you're a little frustrated with your life right now, but you CAN choose to be less hostile.”
I remember reveling in this movie's charms with a former girlfriend, laughing as we said those very words to each other. Years later, as betrayal and anguish caused our relationship to fall apart, each of us could very have said those same words to the hostile people we had become. I don't particularly enjoy sharing this insight. But it’s true to the many layers of resonance Sideways has developed for me over the years.
Author Kevin Renick on his long-ago trip to the Napa Valley.
Still, it’s a handful of happier reflections that endure. When Miles tells Maya he is saving a certain rare bottle of sauvignon blanc for a “special occasion,” she mockingly tells him to go get it “right now.” But then she adds with absolute wisdom, “The day you open your ‘61, THAT’S the special occasion.” Indeed. That’s true for so many things these days. Also deeply moving to me was Maya’s willingness to read Miles’ rejected novel. Any artist awaiting a creative breakthrough or just managing to get a dang work of art FINISHED, wants to know that it reached someone, or mattered to them. This entirely separate aspect of Sideways is something that is surprisingly difficult for me to talk about. I thought of it when my sister Therese was caring and attentive enough to give me powerful feedback on my album Clear the Way a few years ago. I remember feeling so grateful for that, and for a few other times that a special friend responded to a work I had created.
In Sideways, we get to see (near the end) how touched Miles is by a phone message from Maya about his novel. She has some encouraging and obviously sincere things to say about his book, and Miles realizes he just HAS to try to see her again, regardless of the consequences. The movie doesn’t reveal those consequences, preferring to let the impact of HOPE speak for itself. Miles, with all his flaws and self-loathing, seems to conclude that there is HOPE as long as one honest, worthwhile person cares about what you've done, what your dreams are, and what path you are trying to take in this uncertain world. Don’t we all long for such a thing? Just to know that what we’re doing…matters to someone else?
Further reading on the impact of Sideways upon the wine industry: