“Bottle Shock,” a movie about a cockeyed optimist from the sticks who single-handedly beat the goliaths, begins by declaring, “This is based on a true story.” And with that those wonderful Hollywood writers (and producers who live in Sonoma) proceed to rob us blind.

One could forgive the absurdities (such as a 20ish cellar-rat able to identify, blind, a 1947 Cheval Blanc, or Brix testing ripe, red grapes in the spring), and blatant one-sided revisionism (Steven Spurrier and George Taber as jerks), if “BS” was presented as fiction.

A cute, imaginary story, with cute, imaginary people, sure. Then it could be reviewed as another lightweight piece of entertainment, sort of like a generic bottle of jug wine — nothing serious, but OK for a picnic.

After all, “Bottle Shock” was formula-plotted — made quickly to be out by the harvest and to beat out the pending movie that features the real story from Taber’s book, “Judgment in Paris.”

But because its creators needed the true story’s cachet, they named names (real names equals legitimate story). Then they turned some of those people with real names into characters who are buffoons, and turned others into heroes.

So, the movie is not only thin in its scope, it is unfair to a lot of those people, who also devoted their lives and their dreams to this story.

So, while the filmmakers explained their project with phrases like “our little movie,” “just for laughs,” “feel good” and “come from behind,” it seemed more about getting even — a case of turning exceptional Napa Valley grapes into bad wine.

Fact v. fiction

Having had the opportunity to read the original script, by Ross Schwartz, it’s hard to fathom why it was reformulated. Sure, the original was a spoof, too; but it was coherent, balanced, reasonably logical and, most importantly, fair to all the real actors in this important Napa Valley drama.

The real hippie in the original script was dumped, so Bo’s original character, who was a frat kid home from college, is now that hippie. Perhaps that’s why Bo made a mea non culpa at the premier showing — can’t blame him.

Mike Grgich, who clearly had the most important and rather amusing role in the original script, is reduced to a two-second subliminal figure.

The Schwartz original also featured winemakers Warren Winiarski and Andre Tchelistcheff, as well as Taber as a young, witty news reporter — not the tired, aging dimwit in the film.

Since changing the story made it wildly unreal, the question is why? One possibility: This script was circulated back in 2005 and offered to some of the principals in the story. Most turned it down. Perhaps this was their payback.

Clearly the actor who carried this movie was Alan Rickman. Playing Steven Spurrier as a stodgy, nose-in-the-air, wine snob, Rickman came out comedic and enchanting. He earned his pay and also held this farce together. Even so, the role was pure character assassination.

Spurrier allegedly looked into the possibility of a lawsuit. As a now historic figure, however, his chances of victory were nil. Surely, the man who gave us the vehicle to our world fame deserves a footnote of truth: In an era where 50 is the new 30, what hip, affluent, go-getter in their 30s (he was 35) wants to be cast as a wine merchant 30 years older than he really is? And as far as down and out? Spurrier was exceptionally successful and had a high reputation (how do you think he was able to gather those famed judges — with a 500 Franc note?). He had handled the wine shipments for Queen Elizabeth II when she had an embassy dinner for the then-president of France, Georges Pompidou.

He may have believed the French would win, but most Americans — with the exception of Robert Mondavi — probably thought so, too.

When he and his wife arrived in California, he stayed at a posh hotel in Sausalito. His travels were not in a beat-up Gremlin.

In the name of American fair play, this Brit didn’t deserve what this movie dished. The movie’s negative spin turned Napa Valley vintners into sore winners — and just for a few, cheap laughs. Ah, Hollywood, ya gotta luv it. They don’t really eat their children down there.

Heroine insulted

Working a trite sex triangle into the story only showed Hollywood’s aim to grab a quick buck. As a result, the movie insults the importance of the real woman in this remarkable episode.

Patricia Gallagher, an American in Paris and Spurrier’s assistant, was, in fact, the person who came up with the idea of having the comparative tasting.

A real heroine, Gallagher combed California wine country, picking and choosing from these upstart wineries. She created the Spurrier list, and didn’t even get a whisper of a mention in the movie — what a shame.

Grgich missing

Finally, and no beating around the bush, if this is a feel-good movie about little guys, where the hell is Mike Grgich?

This reporter has scoured close to a dozen books noting the 1976 tasting. Every one gives credit to Grgich for making the 1973 chardonnay, and Winiarski for the cabernet — including Robert Mondavi’s “Harvest of Joy,” Charles Sullivan’s “Napa Wine,” James Laube’s “California Wine,” and Taber. Schwartz’ original script clearly gives Grgich credit.

Grgich, who grew up in a vineyard and studied enology at the University of Zagreb in his native Croatia, had to flee its Communist regime, arriving in America virtually penniless. When he went to Montelena’s bare-bones operation as its winemaker, he had 16 years experience of making wine in the Napa Valley and had worked under Robert Mondavi, Brother Timothy, Lee Stewart and Andre Tchelistcheff.

Meanwhile, the principal partners were hardly down and out and hardly from the sticks: Lee Paschich, a successful manufacturer and grapegrower, owned Chateau Montelena at the time. Ernest Hahn was a big-time developer of shopping centers in California. Jim Barrett, born in Chicago, raised in L.A., was the major partner in a successful law firm. He lived with his family in exclusive Palos Verdes and was Hahn’s attorney.

Sonoma’s revenge

For a culture in which many don’t even know when World War II took place or who Lincoln was, this film may be a rare lesson about wine, the Napa Valley and that revolutionary event. One reviewer, Stephen Farber of the Hollywood Reporter, said the movie is “an irresistible story that happens to be (mainly) true.”

That is akin to saying that Washington, Jefferson, Tom Paine, Betsy Ross and Ben Franklin played no part in the American Revolution and that the war was won by Paul Revere’s landlord because he helped brush his horse.

Clearly it’s a Hollywood piggy back, a corruption of everything Robert Mondavi and many others did to bring this valley to its grand state. Mondavi, in fact, used more than a dozen pages of “Harvest of Joy” lauding the people this movie takes down or ignores, even though his own wine was not included in the tasting — what a gentleman.

Forever resenting the role of the poor cousin in relation to famed Napa, with this movie, Sonoma gets to sees us with egg on our face. With the exception of the shots at the winery and a few drive-by scenes in downtown Calistoga, the movie was written, produced, and filmed in Sonoma. Isn’t that peachy! Thank you for turning a stellar piece of wine history into a paper moon.

So, if you believe Petaluma is Paris, and the Santa Rosa plain is the Napa Valley, and especially if you live in Sonoma, you may want to see this film.

But I’m recommending my friends use the ticket price to go pick up four or five bottles of Two Buck Chuck. The syrah isn’t bad.

Intardonato writes articles about wine for the St. Helena Star and other publications. He lives in Franz Valley.