Drops of God: The Best (and Most Unsung) New Show of the Year So Far

The concept of Drops of God (created by Quoc Dang Tran) is both simple and compelling. An old, bitter man named Alexander (Stanley Weber, giving Brian Cox a run for his Succession money in terms of playing toxic fathers), who has devoted his life to collecting the most valuable wine collection in the world, sets up a competition in his will between his most prized student and his daughter. After his death, Iseii (the student) and Camille (the daughter) are charged with going through a series of wine-based contests, with the winner taking both the wine collection and the entirety of the old man’s estate. Winner takes it all. 

We learn early on that Camille (a wonderful Fleur Geffrier) and her father have been estranged for many years, and the time they spent together was often spent going through a series of blindfolded smell tests of all the individual ingredients in wine. At first the young Camille loves the ritual, but it soon turns sour and overly intense when she can’t identify a scent. The trauma is so great for Camille that she develops what appears to be a psychological allergy to alcohol. As one might guess, not having your sense of taste available to you for a series of wine challenges is not helpful in the slightest. 

You see just how bad Camille’s aversion to alcohol is early on. In a rather elegant tracking shot (directed by Oded Ruskin, who is behind the camera for every episode),we follow Camille to a bar where she strikes up a conversation with a just slightly over-served younger man, who while coming onto her, takes a swig of whiskey as he kisses her. Camille is immediately afflicted with a horrible nose bleed and runs off to the bathroom to vomit. 

The one thing Camille has going for her in this battle of vino wits is her nose. Her sense of smell helps her overcome her fear of taste early on during the competition, but, through what can only be described as sheer force of will, Camille overcomes her psychological block and its physical manifestations to allow the battle between her and Issei to be joined in full. 

Issei’s stoic nature (played to perfection by Tomohisa Yamashita) contrasts profoundly with Camille’s often rage-fueled tirades (the woman has reasons), and we see in his own home life that neither his mother nor his grandfather have any respect for Issei’s devotion to wine. The mother and the grandfather look at Issei as if he is a nuisance they have been saddled with for the length of the young man’s life. Only Issei’s warm but downtrodden father shows any kindness to the couple’s only son. 

One of the mysteries in the series is why Issei was chosen. He and the old man were not particularly close when Issei studied under him in his enology class in Tokyo. The only distinction Issei can make between him and his fellow students was that the old man was just a bit harder on him than everyone else. 

The pre-contest lead up tells you just how disturbed Alexandre was. After his body is cremated, both Camille and Issei must not only gaze upon his bones, but choose one each to bring forward to the top of the table where Alexandre’s remains are at rest. The scene is not only creepy as hell, but sets the stage for the wickedly difficult tests to come, and makes a particularly cruel plot twist during what is supposed to be the final competition all the more palpable and understandable. 

All of which I’ve described unfolds in an extremely involving nature, and if that’s all the limited series Drops of God had going for it, it would still be a fun watch. But the show goes much deeper into character than it might have needed to for the purpose of entertainment. 

The show digs deep into Camille’s and Issei’s scars. Both of their families are full of secrets and lies, and as the

series progresses, we see Camille and Issei become closer and closer, until the revelation of why Issei was truly chosen is laid bare. Not only is the truth behind Issei’s story very affecting, but so is the way Camille handles it. Their personalities could not possibly be more different, but their shared connection to wine and Alexandre makes their slowly unfolding affection towards each other all the more dramatically effective by the time the eighth and final episode closes. 

I wouldn’t have expected it from the show’s (airing on AppleTV+) basic description, but Drops of God isn’t just about a labyrinthine, nearly impossible, two-person game of Survivor, it’s also about family, kindness, old memories, new beginnings, and of course, wine, which is showcased in ways that may make the oenophile within want to walk into your TV screen and try many a displayed vintage. 

What else do you need other than a Gorgonzola sandwich with what a James Joyce character once described as a “feety cheese,” and maybe a good dog to scratch and sneak a table scrap.

I knew nothing of Drops of God when I started it. The lead of the story was intriguing and so was the trailer. I also liked the idea of the show being an international affair told in three languages (French, Japanese, and English—based on a series of Manga books) So, I gave it a shot. To my genuine surprise, I discovered the best new show I’ve seen debut this year, with one of the most satisfying and emotional conclusions of any series in my recent memory. 

No one may be talking about it, but that doesn’t make the excellence of Drops of God any less true. Find your remote. Park your backside, and let these eight perfectly modulated episodes wash over you. I’ll accept notes of thanks after. I guarantee you’ll want to make one. Especially when you learn what those “drops of god” are made of.