The world probably doesn’t need another brewery founder story and the upper echelons of breweries like Cantillon or Drei Fontainen probably don’t need any more attention from beer nerds than they already get. So, for a documentarian to focus their efforts on the future of Belgian lambic beer, on its face, might seem a bit … in the weeds, and perhaps out of sync with a world that’s more interested in extracting itself from the overly-romantic days of the early-to-mid aughts. But of course for every top-line narrative there is usually a shadow story that is just as strong.
Jerry Franck’s film, Bottle Conditioned, purports to tell the tale of Belgian lambic (and it does) but the thrust of the story and it’s tension lie not in the wavering appeal and marketability of the stuff, but in the internal tensions between family members. Or the fight over the future between a brewery and its own fans. Or the way in which a young upstart becomes his own worst enemy as he tries to exploit trends.
Franck’s capture of these deeper moments illuminates just how fragile any sub-culture can be, and perhaps especially when its star seems to be rising.
We see the Van Roys debating, with great passion, anger, and increasing resentment, whether Cantillon is making an authentic product worthy of its historical roots, or if it’s just giving in to a crass commercial opportunity. There is a patriarch holding on to his original vision—a brewing museum—against a growing family’s need to support subsequent generations with the growth of their brand.
And then it’s watching the rapid evolution of Drei Fontenen following Armand Debelder’s death, as two young owners make ambitious plans for a campus-level expansion for the future home of the brand. Only the cries of “sellouts!” from some of their most hardened fans is enough to make them abandon their dream, at least for now.
Franck’s lens on these matters is sharp and unexpected, even moreso for the typically tight-lipped culture of Belgian brewers not known for making their affairs known, and certainly not their familiar tensions. On the other hand, the general “struggle” of Belgian brewers is an ever-present part of their storytelling, always sure to make American audiences know how delicate their very existence is, and how that factors into market value.
The documentary is vivid, beautifully shot, and romantic. The storytelling is bracing, revealing, and one of the most true things I’ve seen from the world of beer.
If you want to see it, you’ll have to lobby your local brewery to license a screening event as Supermoon in Milwaukee did for the lucky viewing I got. In my opinion, it’d be a worthy effort.
Words,Michael Kiser