Review: Julia Child's life was a four-course meal, but in the documentary 'Julia," the portions aren't big enough

With a life as full and as rich as Julia Child’s, any documentary will feel like a trifle — but filmmakers Julie Cohen and Betsy West do an admirable job getting to the essence of the famed chef in “Julia.”

Cohen and West — who profiled Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg (“RBG”) and legal pioneer Pauli Murray (“My Name Is Pauli Murray”) — have a lot to cover with Child’s life. Born in a wealthy California family, she sought adventure and found it during World War II, as a typist for the O.S.S. (the precursor to the modern CIA). She was stationed abroad, which is how she met Paul Child, a diplomat who introduced her to culture by way of food. They married, and he was posted to France, where she was introduced to French cooking.

Child wanted to learn how to cook such marvelous food, so she became one of the few women students at the famous cooking school, Le Cordon Bleu. She was imposing, at 6 feet, 3 inches, and soon proved herself an adept cook. Child teamed up with two French friends, Louisette Bertholle and Simone Beck (nicknamed “Simca”), to try to explain the techniques of French cuisine to an American audience. The result was “Mastering the Art of French Cooking.”

The book was a revelation, in an era of convenience foods and Campbell’s soup casseroles. It was so detailed that its initial publisher rejected it because the editors thought it was too much like an encyclopedia. The publisher Alfred A. Knopf, reportedly on the advice of his wife, picked up the book in 1961, and it became a gold mine for the publishing house.

The book also led Child to another kind of fame. Living in Boston at the time, Child was invited to appear on a talk show about books on the local educational TV station, WGBH. Child asked the station to provide a hot plate, so she could cook something while being interviewed. The segment showed Child’s comfort in front of the camera, and prompted WGBH to hire Child to present a weekly cooking show, “The French Chef.” It made her a star, America’s first celebrity chef.

Cohen and West tell much of Child’s story through her journals, and letters she wrote to friends and, most especially, with Paul. What those writings reveal is a passionate love affair — he wrote her a sonnet, guys — that spanned continents and decades. (The film employs Paul’s photographs, which demonstrate his love for her, including one tastefully composed nude.) 

One story sums up the romance perfectly. Julia developed breast cancer in 1968, and had a radical mastectomy. Julia cried when she lost her breast, and told Paul she worried he wouldn’t love her any more. Paul’s response was the last word on the subject: “I didn’t marry you for your breasts. I married you for your legs.”

The filmmakers don’t shy away from Child’s less-than-perfect qualities. For years, she was something of a homophobe. That changed when her attorney, who was gay, died from AIDS — and Child did an about-face and became a staunch advocate for the LGBTQ community, and a dedicated fund-raiser for AIDS charities.

The movie uses a wealth of archival footage of Child’s numerous TV appearances — including the time in 1978 when she cut her finger during a talk show, inspiring Dan Aykroyd’s bloody parody on “Saturday Night Live” a month later. The movie also includes interviews with current chefs, such as Marcus Samuelsson and Jose Andres, and other foodie celebrities talking about Child’s lasting impact on our TV screens and our taste buds.

There’s so much to be said about Child — and the footage shows how much joy she got in cooking and showing others how to do it — that “Julia” could have been longer than the fleet 95 minutes it takes to watch. That’s a good sign for any host: You never want your time with them to end.

——

‘Julia’

★★★1/2

Opens Wednesday, November 24, in theaters. Rated PG-13 for brief strong language/sexual reference, and some thematic elements. Running time: 95 minutes.