These films prove it: you are what you eat. How food, without us realizing it, often plays an important role.

When cinematographer Alfred Hitchcock was interviewed by another genius François Truffaut, he said:

'I don't want film to be a 'slice of life' because people can get that at home, in the street, or even in front of the movie theater. They don't have to pay money to see a slice of life. And I avoid out-and-out fantasy because people should be able to identify with the characters. Making a film means, first of all, to tell a story. That story can be an improbable one, but it should never be banal. It must be dramatic and human. What is drama, after all, but life with the dull bits cut out.'

Hitchcock thus explains why there is almost no feature film in which food plays no role at all: food is part of every ‘slice of life’; it is an intrinsic part of life. But it is also part of an everyday story. It is pretty boring, which explains why food does not usually play a leading role in films.

But that does not mean food is not important in films. Scenarists and directors prefer to use food to clarify relationships without having to explain them. Show, do not tell: it will always remain an important aspect in the art of filmmaking.

Take the infamous cheeseburger scene from Pulp Fiction. In it, bad boys Jules Winnfield, played by Samuel L. Jackson and his mate Vincent Vega (John Travolta), confront a bunch of considerably less hardcore guys who have stolen from Jules' and Vincent's boss. Not so smart, because that boss is a dangerous gangster.

Jules and Vincent surprise the boys at their breakfast: cheeseburgers from the fictional Big Kahuna burger chain. Scenarist and director Quentin Tarantino uses all sorts of cinematographic tricks to make Jules look powerful and Brett - the leader of the petty thieves - powerless: Jules stands, Brett sits; Jules wears a suit and Brett a denim shirt; Jules gets close-ups in which he stares down intensely, Brett is filmed by using wide angle shots in which he looks up, small and uncertain.

But the real show of power comes in the form of Jules' action: he takes Brett's cheeseburger and takes a few bites from it. Then he is washing it down with a few sips from Brett's Sprite. Jules' domination then requires no further explanation; Brett and his partner have messed up and are going to die.

Food plays a role in films that it also plays in real life: that of subtext. Food always tells a story, but never explicit. As a result, most people remain unaware of the message that food carries.

If you look at our current food system, it is easy to get a bad feeling. Overpopulation, pollution with pesticides, soil depletion, loss of biodiversity, and climate change caused by humans; they are all serious problems that threaten our food security.

Whoever seeks ominous visions of the future finds them in dystopian films. Take 'Interstellar' from director Christopher Nolan. In this, humanity on earth is doomed to death. What exactly is going on is not clear, but there is something seriously wrong with agriculture. A mysterious 'blight', an agricultural disease, affects the entire earthly food supply and humanity has to find a new planet.

Food plays a leading role in the film 'Interstellar', without going into the forefront. The state of the food in the film, how it is distributed, and who gets it, are ideal for filmmakers to show a complete world, without giving an actual explanation. Again: show, do not tell is the adage.

Something similar happens in Blade Runner 2049, the remake by Denis Villeneuve of the neo-noir science fiction classic Blade Runner from 1982. The ecosystems have collapsed and humanity is in a terrible state. In a murky Los Angeles, the poisonous-looking rainfall colors decadent neon. In the countryside, dust clouds and pollution prevail. It is unimaginable that something would still grow, let alone that agriculture can exist.

The question of how humanity feeds itself is answered at the very beginning of the film. A replicate, a human robot and genetically engineered to serve real people, breeds giant, hideous larvae in a chemical slurry that forces him to wear a heavy, protective suit. The proteins of these larvae are probably processed into something that looks less horrible, but the message is clear: the people in the world of Blade Runner 2049 are no longer human beings.

That the larva-growing replica has a pot of garlic on the stove, summarizes the central question of Blade Runner 2049 at once: are the replicants not become more human than humans?

Show, do not tell.