Some people say, “life is too short.” To them, I say, “There’s an annual contest to determine who cooks the best porridge.” Not only is there an annual contest, again, about cooking porridge, there’s even a movie about the contest. It is called The Golden Spurtle … which is neither the emanations of an overprivileged toddler, nor a taboo sex act, but the award one gets for being named the “best” cook of porridge in the world.
I know what you’re thinking. “Isn’t porridge (aka ‘Oatmeal’) just oats cooked with water or milk? There must be, like, other ingredients used to make this special, right?”
No. There are not. The competition strictly forbids it, in fact. This is all about who is best with oats, water, heat, and the stick that stirs it, which is known as a Spurtle. I know what you’re thinking now, too. “Isn’t ‘watching oatmeal cook’ one of those phrases we use like ‘watching paint dry’?” Yes, I think it is. And there is something to that. I would clearly much rather see a condensed porridge championship than actually watch anyone make porridge. I think that goes without saying.
Obviously, this is limited appeal documentary for the benefit of the limited few who will either have interest in the subject, or understand that this low-key competition can be tongue-in-cheek, like Best in Show.
Is The Golden Spurtle a mockumentary?
No.
Is it as good as Best in Show?
Also, no.
The film does, however, explore s subject that would never get my attention otherwise. Do check out this converted badminton court in hidden corner of Scotland once a year to see whose bland breakfast is the champion of all bland breakfasts. Color is important! So is texture! Does flavor even matter? In the UK, not so much, apparently. I kid you, of course. Taste is the most important piece of this competition. But I’d be damned if I could tell them apart, huh. Could you?
Imagine having a palate so advanced that you could pick out flavours of oatmeal. Just oats and water. Now imagine having a palate so advanced that you could pick out flavours of oatmeal … and wasting it on oatmeal. Jus’ sayin’.
This documentary is cute if a little one-dimensional. I don’t think it requires any certain human characteristic to get into the drama on competition, no matter how absurd the competition might be, but I
do think you have to be in a certain mood to love a film like this. After all, it is just porridge. And there isn’t a ton of tongue-and-cheek humor here; the documentary, albeit adorable on a certain level, is very straightforward.
There’s a delightful juxtaposition of grandeur and modesty in this endeavor. I remember many seasons of disappointing second place finishes in beer league ice hockey; on rare occasions, we would win the title of local bronze league champions. And while many, including myself, would discount the importance of such, I always came back to one satisfying conclusion: “IT’S BETTER THAN NOT BEING LOCAL BRONZE LEAGUE ICE HOCKEY CHAMPIONS!” I knew that for a fact. And I knew it quite well. That is how I feel about The Golden Spurtle and its participants. It is certainly important to them, and I respect it and enjoy their drama on that count.
But I’d still rather have eggs, bacon, and a side of home fries.
A competition for dudes who make porridge
In a venue best used for playground storage
It’s water and oat
To decide the GOAT
Of breakfast choice when you don’t want to forage
Not Rated, 75 Minutes
Director: Constantine Costi
Writer: Constantine Costi
Genre: The joys of mediocrity
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: Those with a taste for small things
Type of be least likely to enjoy this filming: If you need action/adventure in your life, this ain’t it
