Directed by Tali Yankelevich
Running time 1 hour 20 minutes
Streaming via Film Forum Feb. 24

by Jaime Davis, Staff Writer, The Fixer

Meu Querido Supermercado, or My Darling Supermarket in English, is a curious little documentary. The film doesn’t have any complicated, grand messages; it isn’t really trying to “be” anything. Instead, there is beauty in the simplicity of following the day to day operations of the employees at a Veran Supermercado in São Paulo, Brazil, a smaller chain with approximately 13 stores in the city. We follow closely as Veran employees go about their business working the bakery, grocery, loss prevention, and front end of the store, who I would say are anything but “regular supermarket employees.” 

How often do we think about the people working at our local markets? It can sometimes feel like grocery shopping is such a mundane task built into our everyday lives–I didn’t always think about what the inner world of a supermarket was like until I actually worked at one. I come from a family of retail workers on both sides–while I don’t currently hold a job in retail, I’ve worked customer service positions pretty regularly since I was 15 years old. And for a few of my family members, we’ve spent a bit of that time working in grocery stores. I love hearing my dad’s favorite memories from his time at the Jewel in Downers Grove, Illinois when he was in his late teens and early twenties.

When I told him I had taken a part-time job at the Whole Foods on South Street in Philadelphia, he joked that I was following the “Davis family tradition”. I worked at Whole Foods from about 2016 to 2018 and it was the last retail position I’ve held (for now). While overall, my experience working there was a positive one, it was only because of the amazing coworkers I was lucky to work with. I met some of the most caring, intelligent, creative, insane, hilarious, talented people at that store – working there was never dull for someone like myself, curious about humans and their lives. I met dancers, opera singers, hustling college students, painters, musicians, writers, proud parents, math geniuses, nurturing retirees, athletes, bakers, chefs…but more importantly, I saw the humanity that resides behind the scenes at something as basic as a grocery store. 

While my fellow employees were a dream, the customers, however, were some of the worst I’ve ever encountered in my 20+ years of working in customer service, which is why I’ve been a bit reluctant to return to retail. People (especially white people) are entitled, that’s no shocker. But I’ve never been more verbally abused by patrons, or seen my coworkers more harassed, than at that particular grocery store. 

While I’ve been lucky enough to make do without working retail during a pandemic, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about supermarket employees having to go to work in the age of COVID. Customers are already anxious about the supreme uncertainty of the world. Some are reluctant to wear masks. Their sick of staying home or being isolated. They’re worried about feeding their families for a variety of reasons (What can we afford? Will the store have necessities in stock?) So the customers bring all of this anxiety with them when they go grocery shopping, not to mention any potential illness, and they release all of this upon the store and its staff. I can’t imagine all of the stress that employees endure now at the hands of their managers, fellow employees, and customers. Even before COVID hit, I felt strongly that all retail workers (especially grocery store employees) deserve respect, but I feel it even more now. If you have the opportunity to, please thank your local grocery store workers or at least be kind. What they have to deal with on a daily basis is just beyond intense, abusive, and emotionally stressful. 

This is what kept coming to mind while watching My Darling Supermarket – how much we should be gracious towards those who work in grocery stores. They are essential, not just during a pandemic, but always, ensuring that a community has available food shelved and stocked, prepped and baked, checked and bagged for us and our families. Sure, I never thought about this on my daily grind at Whole Foods, but thinking about supermarket employees now – it’s a noble job, perhaps temporary for some, but one that customers should be respectful of no matter what.

The employees profiled in My Darling Supermarket are young and old(er), here for a while or here for now. They are artists, future particle physicists, singers, dancers, philosophers…sharing their thoughts with each other on everything from anime to life after death to faith to existentialism to romantic relationships. We learn about how the seemingly monotonous life working at such a store isn’t so monotonous after all: we hear a front end employee discuss a panic attack he had while ringing up a customer; we watch as two bakery employees flirt around each other in lighthearted camaraderie, wondering if they have feelings for each other; we learn about a woman joining the loss prevention team and finding a particular calling and passion for investigation. All of this is highlighted through brightly lit, colorful, interestingly-framed shots and a tender pacing that begins with scenes from the store’s initial construction and ends with the store’s closing time in the evening. In addition to this, first-time feature director Tali Yankelevich weaves elements of nature (the butterfly who keeps hanging out in the stockroom) with hints of the mystical – is the store, which used to be an old factory, as haunted as some of the employees believe?

Early on in the film, one of the Veran employees opines, “We’re just ordinary people doing their jobs – who would want to watch that?” Employees at this particular Veran (and in general) are anything but ordinary…instead, they are fascinating subjects to behold. My Darling Supermarket is an affectionate look at the inner dimensions of a local grocery store and an enchanting peek behind the curtain at the hard-working folks who help make it possible to put food on our tables.