As readers may recall from my review in this journal of Harris Cooper's American History Through a Whiskey Glass (Journal of Wine Economics, Volume 20, Issue 3), in addition to my interest and love of fine wine, I am also a fan of single malt Scotch whisky. So, there should be no surprise that in November 2025, my (adult) son and I joyfully participated in one of The Haven's Dram Night tastings of Scotch whisky in the tasting room of this Scottish restaurant and whisky-enthusiast establishment in Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts. The evening featured seven offerings from the unique Bruichladdich distillery on the island of Islay.

By the way, as you're reading this review, it may help to know that the distillery name is pronounced “brooch-la-de” and the island is pronounced “eye-la.” That said, we tasted eight samples: Classic Laddie, Islay Barley, Classic Rye, Port Charlotte Heavily Peated Ten-Year Old, and then Octomore 16.1, 16.2, and 16.3, followed by Haven Collection 19-year Old. Best of all, we were guided through the two-hour (8-10 pm) tasting by the irrepressible owner of The Haven, James Waddleton, plus Jason Cousins from Bruichladdich. Half-way through the evening, our hosts asked the thirty of us at the tasting if we had seen the film, The Water of Life. Most of those in the room—but not the two of us—raised their hands. We have since made up for that deficit. Hence, this review.

Simply put, Water of Life is a documentary that celebrates the craft and culture of Scotch whisky. It offers a history lesson framed within an ode to the creativity, terroir, and the sensory artistry that readers of this journal and all wine connoisseurs will find deeply familiar. While its focus is on whisky, the film speaks a universal language that resonates among vigneron, distillers, and brewers—one of obsession with flavor, reverence for place, and the endless pursuit of perfection in the glass.

Directed by Greg Swarz with a gentle, almost meditative rhythm, the film follows the Scotch whisky renaissance, highlighting the distillers, blenders, and innovators who thoroughly transformed what was a tradition-rich but stagnant industry. Figures such as Jim McEwan of Bruichladdich, David Stewart of Balvenie, and Bill Lumsden of Glenmorangie guide us through their creative process. Their passion, humility, and willingness to experiment resonates with anyone who has ever spent a quiet hour contemplating a wine's structure—or debated the virtues of one Bordeaux vintage versus another.

In fact, one of the film's greatest triumphs lies in how it illustrates the parallels between winemaking and distillation. Barrels become characters in their own right: vessels of memory and transformation. The documentary lingers on oak the way a vineyard film lingers on soil—textures, provenance, and grain patterns, each contributing distinctive layers of flavor. Much like biodynamic or minimal-intervention winemaking, Water of Life explores how subtle decisions, from fermentation techniques to cask selection, shape the final spirit. The film's deep respect for craftsmanship will feel perfectly familiar to oenophiles who understand how a wine's beauty can hinge on judgments made in the vineyard as well as the winery.

Visually, the movie is absolutely stunning, which is also true of several of the wine films I have reviewed in the past. Sweeping shots of the Scottish coastline, the quiet geometry of polished copper stills, and the amber glow of whisky in the glass create an indulgent atmosphere. If wine documentaries often revel in vineyard romance, Water of Life finds poetry in peat smoke, sea spray, and the alchemy of distillation. Yet it never becomes precious (unlike some of those wine documentaries I have reviewed). Rather, its tone is approachable, even playful, inviting newcomers to follow along, without sacrificing the depth that aficionados will appreciate.

Where some spirits documentaries lose themselves in technical minutiae, Water of Life keeps its focus on the people, their dedication, skills, and their personalities. It presents many of these distillers essentially as artists—quirky, opinionated, and relentlessly curious. For wine lovers accustomed to winemaker-driven narratives, this character-centric approach will make you feel perfectly at home. These distillers experiment with yeast strains, aging times, unconventional casks, and production methods, not out of simple novelty-seeking, but from a genuine desire to express something meaningful through their spirit.

Ultimately, Water of Life is a celebration of craftsmanship at its most soulful. It reminds us that great beverages—whether whisky or wine—are stories captured in liquid form: stories of landscapes, hands, risks, and traditions reborn. Wine connoisseurs will find much to admire here, not only in the parallels of technique and passion, but in the film's observations about complexity, nuance, and the sheer joy of savoring something made with devotion. In short, this is a rewarding watch for anyone who believes that the finest bottles—grape or grain—can be works of art.

This was the second single malt Scotch whisky tasting I attended with my son at The Haven. I don't know when the next one will be, but if a book or film is mentioned, you will know about it from me.