Ottolenghi and the Cakes of Versailles

Shrewdly balances a careful juggling act between allowing us to celebrate the breathtaking edible artworks that the film documents, while simultaneously demanding we question the broader social, cultural and economic symbolism of such work

The film is frustratingly light on the palace's history. Not until the bitter end does Gabbert try to inject a little social commentary into what has largely been a de luxe cooking show.

A more nuanced documentary - one that didn't just feel like evidence of an event that happened at a museum, but a work of art unto itself - might have made a meal out of such ideas, rather than just offering them for dessert.

For such a sweet film, "Ottolenghi and the Cakes of Versailles" evolves into a complex exploration of the symbiotic relationship between money and art, and questions what the visibility of that conspicuous consumption could portend.

In its attempt to cram too many narratives and subjects into too short of a running time, it ends up coming across as both overstuffed and oddly undernourished.

At a time when we are truly questioning how the cultural sausage is made, and there's a wannabe Sun King set on installing himself in the White House in perpetuity, this confectionary seems a little stale and tasteless.

A diverting but ultimately unsatisfying 75 minutes, simultaneously too short and too cluttered to meaningfully explore all the fascinating implications it presents.

Glossy, gleaming eye candy for those with a sweet tooth. It never feels like a full meal, though.

Enlightening, erudite, but ultimately a little too ethereal.

It's a lot to fit into 75 minutes and while there's plenty here that is interesting, it's a shame Gabbert didn't distil things down a bit more.