The show, written by Quoc Dang Tran, a Vietnamese-French writer who has worked on such French smash hits as Call My Agent! and The Bureau, manages to imbue the wine-tasting scenes with the tension of a thriller. There’s a particularly fun sequence shot like a caper movie in which Camille has to pose as a restaurant sommelier in order to get just a sniff of a particularly rare wine that a wealthy diner has bought.
But the family drama is just as gripping as we learn, for example, through flashbacks why Camille has such an aversion to alcohol, and why Issei’s mother seems so cold and distant.
The depiction of the two principal characters almost leans into national stereotypes. Redheaded Camille is passionate, impulsive, sweary. Issei is reserved, formal and analytical. But as the series progresses, we discover they have much in common.
The two actors playing them are not hugely well known beyond their native France and Japan but with Drops of God have done their international job prospects no harm at all. Geffrier, who looks as though she’s stepped out of a Pre-Raphaelite painting, is a magnetic lead. She has dialogue in three languages – French, English and Japanese – and pulls it off with elan. Yamashita, already idolised in Japan, where he is known as a singer, dancer and presenter as well as an actor, is a charismatic presence. They both have cheekbones sharp enough to peel a grape with.
Drops of God looks beautiful too. Tokyo is presented in steely blues and greys. Provence is bathed in golden sunshine, except for the occasional dramatic storm. Provençal tourism chiefs don’t need any help selling their region but will surely be rubbing their hands in glee at this.
So will winemakers. Listening to the characters discuss wine and the wine-making process with such enthusiasm, and hearing them describe incredible wines so vividly, may well make you want to drink them. The show has been distilled from a bestselling 44-volume Japanese manga series of the same name which began in 2004, created by a brother-and-sister team, Shin and Yuko Kibayashi. The series is famous for its impact on the East Asian wine market, significantly boosting the sale of wines mentioned in the story.
It more than doubled wine sales in Japan in the first year it was published. In July 2009, the British wine magazine Decanter placed the Kibayashis at Number 50 on its list of the wine world’s most influential people, remarking that Drops of God “is arguably the most influential wine publication for the past 20 years”. One French winemaker withdrew a wine of his from the market after it was mentioned in order to prevent its price from rocketing. The wines in the TV series, which has changed several aspects of the manga’s story, are a mixture of real and fictional but if you happen to have a few cases of, say, Château Cheval Blanc 2000 lying around in your cellar, you may want to hang on to them for a while.
One of the many charms of the show is that even if, like me, your previous knowledge of wine essentially amounts to being able to visually distinguish between red and white, you feel as if you are being infused with expertise as you watch. I finished the series regretting the life choices that mean I’m not running a wine domaine in glorious southeastern France but consoling myself that should a head sommelier position become vacant at a Michelin-starred restaurant, I could have a reasonable shot at it.
★★★★☆
The first two episodes of Drops of God are on Apple TV + from April 21; new episodes are released weekly.
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