If you were scouting about for a feature documentary subject, porridge might not be the first thing you’d think of. That is, unless you were Australian opera and theatre director turned documentary film maker, Constantine Costi, who has struck gold with his new documentary, The Golden Spurtle.
Now, I’ll admit to not knowing what a spurtle was before watching this documentary. (But now that I know, I’ve added one to my Christmas list.)
According to the Dictionaries of the Scots Language, a spurtle is “a short, round stick used for stirring porridge”.
Generally, they’re made of wood, but once a year in the Scottish Highlands’ village of Carrbridge, a much-coveted golden spurtle is awarded to the winner of the World Porridge Making Championship…
If you were scouting about for a feature documentary subject, porridge might not be the first thing you’d think of. That is, unless you were Australian opera and theatre director turned documentary film maker, Constantine Costi, who has struck gold with his new documentary, The Golden Spurtle.
Now, I’ll admit to not knowing what a spurtle was before watching this documentary. (But now that I know, I’ve added one to my Christmas list.)
According to the Dictionaries of the Scots Language, a spurtle is “a short, round stick used for stirring porridge”.
Generally, they’re made of wood, but once a year in the Scottish Highlands’ village of Carrbridge, a much-coveted golden spurtle is awarded to the winner of the World Porridge Making Championships. The setting for Costi’s documentary is the 2023 competition – the contest’s 30th year.
The 2016 golden spurtle trophy. Wikimedia, CC BY-SA
Porridge makers from all over the world arrive in Carrbridge each October to compete. They must make the best porridge from just three ingredients: oats, salt and water.
And 2023 was particularly significant because it was the year Charlie Miller – unofficial mayor of Carrbridge, avid spurtle maker and self-proclaimed chieftain of the Golden Spurtle since 1994 – was stepping down. If this film has a star, Miller is it.
Shot like a moving photograph
Costi and cinematographer Dimitri Zaunders have made strong cinematic choices that allow this story to tell itself.
First they’ve shot it in an aspect ratio of 4:3 – a pre-widescreen format evoking an “old-school” visual feeling reminiscent of 1950s films and other old video and television formats.
Self-proclaimed Chieftain of the Golden Spurtle, Charlie Miller, is a key character in the film. Umbrella
Secondly, there’s no camera movement. Every scene is shot with a “locked-off” camera, giving everything a framed, photographic feel. This style relies on what we see within the frame being compelling enough to hold our attention without the enhancement of camera or editing techniques.
For the most part, this suits the subject matter. The scenery around Carrbridge and its quaint architecture are beautiful enough without needing to be tricked up in any way, and the personalities of the characters are quite magnetic.
Still, about halfway through the 75-minute runtime, the sameness of the visual style becomes (for me at least) dynamically inert. Then again, often that feeling was countered by something unexpected or funny happening within the locked-off frame.
A captivating cast and secret recipes
We meet several of the contestants over the course of the film, including Ian Bishop (the only local ever to win), Lisa Williams (a back-to-back winner known as The Queen of Porridge), Nick Barnard (a serious man who seriously wants to win after being a seven-time finalist) and Toby Wilson (an Australian taco chef who’s back for a second crack).
These characters are as idiosyncratic as the competition itself, and just as passionate.
Ian Bishop is the only local ever to have won the Golden Spurtle. Umbrella
If there’s one thing missing, it’s insight into the porridge-making process itself and how the judges make their decisions.
What makes a winning bowl of porridge? What difference do different kinds of oats make? Do you simmer or rapid boil? Should your spurtle stir clockwise or anticlockwise? Do the judges look for taste, or texture, or consistency, or other factors?
The closest the film comes to focusing on these questions is when an off-camera voice asks Ian Bishop which oats he will be using, to which he simply replies: “Why would I want to tell you? Other people would get to know.”
In October of this year, Melbourne food stylist Caroline Velik returned triumphant from the 32nd championship, having won the Speciality Dish Category.
I guess that’s another thing missing from the documentary: there’s a second category where contestants can add whatever they like to their oats. Seven-time-finalist Nick Barnard is a two-time winner in this category, but that doesn’t get a mention either.
Velik told the ABC she made her Aussie-flavoured porridge jaffle with bananas, wattleseed, Davidson plum powder and Bundaberg rum.
She was also runner-up in the main competition. “You think it’s all going to taste the same,” she said, “but you’d be surprised how many differences you can get with just those three ingredients.”
That conversation primed me for Costi’s documentary, so it was disappointing these things were left out.
Porridge earns its stripes
It’d be easy to trivialise this event and its organisers as little more than an old-fashioned eccentric curiosity. But reading between the lines, you come to understand that this is community engagement at its best.
A small group of volunteers in a tiny hall, in a quiet village, with not much more than their passion, dedication and love of an ancient dish have created an international event that celebrates three humble ingredients.
It is an event that has put porridge on the world stage. And much of this is captured in The Golden Spurtle. But like Oliver Twist and his oatmeal gruel, I just wanted some more.
The Golden Spurtle is in cinemas from today.