Too Much Of A Good Thing

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The shakeout is a case study in globalization's impact. The best place to study it is in Bordeaux, the biggest French fine wine region and arguably the most prestigious. The place is suddenly rent with divisions: between winemakers and the merchants who traditionally sold their vintages; between the handful of top-name châteaus that enjoy worldwide fame — and who are making money faster than you can say premier grand cru classé — and the 9,000 others, about 500 of whom are estimated to be in dire straits; between young and old, traditionalists and reformers; those who still turn up their nose at New World wine and those who think they should be copying some of its tricks; between the Bordeaux establishment, which is pressing for a greater say in its own affairs, and the French government in Paris, which wants to micromanage the business.

This all has profound implications for the way Bordeaux is made and sold. Winemakers are putting a new emphasis on appealing more directly to consumers, with less incomprehensible packaging and smarter marketing, but sometimes also with less lofty wines. There are moves afoot to reduce the myriad appellations and weed out some of the châteaus in order to make the wine more consistent and less of a puzzle. Some new brands are even being created that, controversially, are far more New World in spirit and taste than traditional Bordeaux.

Underlying these changes is a conviction that Bordeaux still has what it takes to be the king of the wine world — one that is strengthened by worldwide demand that is pushing up prices for successful producers, including Pontet-Canet. For the very top houses, prices are in the stratosphere: the 2005 vintages of Château Cheval Blanc and Château Lafite Rothschild, for example, are currently retailing for about €500 per bottle. That's about the same price as 1,000 bottles of the down-market wine sold in bulk, the sort of wine Charles makes.

The ability of élite producers to raise their prices is fueling Bordeaux's recovery. Overall, the region's wine exports dropped by about 20% over the past five years. But in the year to June, exports once again rose, about 5% in volume and 24% in value to €1.2 billion. The recovery is uneven, and nobody is sure that it is sustainable. Still, one thing has changed for good: winemakers up and down the region swear that their complacency is over. "We thought we were the king of carrots. We just didn't see the others coming," admits Jean-François Bruère, who heads a 220-member cooperative in Landerrouat, on the edge of the Bordeaux region, toward Bergerac. "We never bothered about consumers. Now we're beginning to wake up. We understand that the consumer is what really matters. We can make the best wine in the world, but if nobody buys it, it's useless."

The big question, and the one most hotly debated, is whether Bordeaux, along with other French and European wine regions, can shift fast and far enough to beat back the competitive challenges and become more efficient without jeopardizing its unique character. Fighting the Australians and Californians is one thing; turning into pale imitators of their ways is something quite different. "We're fed up with hearing that Bordeaux is a has-been product. I wouldn't have come to work here if I thought it didn't have a future," says Marie Courselle, 30, one of a new generation of combative winemakers who, with her sister Sylvie, 28, recently took over their father's winery, Château Thieuley. It's critical for Bordeaux to change, she says, "but we mustn't lose our soul."

The village of St. Genes-de-Lombaud, a half an hour's drive east of Bordeaux, doesn't figure on the usual tourist itineraries of the region. It has nonetheless become a crucial destination for local wine producers, big and small. In increasing numbers, they have been driving their tanker trucks to Bernard Douence's distillery just outside the village. There they weigh their cargo on a scale in front of the green-sided complex and then pump the wine into huge tanks around the back. "All the châteaus are coming," boasts the white-haired Douence, 57, who runs the distillery with his three brothers and his 83-year-old mother. This year alone, Bordeaux producers have brought him 100,000 hL of wine to be distilled, the equivalent of 13.3 million bottles.