Garlic Is as Good as Ten Mothers Reviews

From America's most lighthearted documentarian--and one of its best--a 51-minute film celebrating garlic, its pleasures, its powers, and the people who love it. In GARLIC IS AS GOOD AS TEN MOTHERS, Les Blank directs the bulk of his attention to garlic as an edible, touching on its important role in the cuisines of Italy, Spain, China, and the African-American South. (But not everywhere. "My mom used to hate it," confesses one young woman. "Her parents came from Ireland and they didn't touch the stuff.") Chefs and diners of every stripe are shown singing garlic's praises, though one qualifies her enthusiasm by saying "I like it if I don't know it's in there." Footage is allotted to the harvesting of garlic as well as its preparation, and several stops are made at the Gilroy, California, Garlic Festival. Garlic's value as a healing herb is extolled as well as its benefits as a skin salve, mosquito repellent, and suntan lotion. A bit of history is invoked, concluding with the news that Eleanor Roosevelt ate chocolate-dipped garlic to improve her memory. The downside of "the stinking rose" is broached in several vintage commercials peddling mouthwash. Garlic's most renowned role in folklore, as a deterrent to vampires, is briefly discussed with Werner Herzog, himself a gifted documentarian. When queried about the garlic-vampire connection, the iconoclastic Herzog, obviously a man with no interest in garlic, admits to leaving the vegetable out of his version of NOSFERATU (1979). "I must confess I never thought about it," he says. "Why do you ask this question?" Among the many advocates called on is Lloyd John Harris, publisher of The Garlic Times and a self-described "victim of garlic." Harris attributes the sudden craze for garlic in the 1970s to the breakdown of Puritanism in American culture. Through it all, Blank drenches his soundtrack with infectious songs indigenous to the various cultures he features in his film. Blank's priceless shorts are devoted alternately to food or music, the one always supporting the other; when Blank people are cooking or eating, someone nearby is usually singing, dancing, or playing an instrument, and vice versa. As nonfiction films go, his movies are refreshingly fun-loving and celebratory. At a time when "multiculturalism" was about to evolve ominously into a string of private clubs with exclusive memberships, Blank made America seem like an infinite round of parties--no two quite alike, no two radically different, each one open to all. (Nudity.)