Documentaries don’t get more delightful than this, as warming as a bowl of porridge

June 4, 2026 — 5:00am

Australians of a certain (ie my) vintage will no doubt recall a very popular advertisement, much imitated in the school playground, in which a cheeky young lad repeatedly exclaimed “That’s no’ how ye make porridge!” in a broad Scots accent.

At the time I found it extremely amusing, although not to the point where I actually bought the advertised product, or indeed can even remember exactly what it was. But I never gave much thought to the central question that the commercial raised: just how DO ye make porridge?

And so we come to The Golden Spurtle, a documentary that will not just enlighten you on some of the finer points of making porridge, but also open up a whole new porridgey world you may not have known existed, but will after viewing be forever thankful for.

First, the title: The Golden Spurtle. Raises many intriguing possibilities. Is it a rare species of Pokemon? A particularly ludicrous Macguffin in the Harry Potter series?

No, actually a spurtle is a traditional Scottish wooden stick used for stirring porridge, and the Golden Spurtle is the trophy awarded each year to the winner of the World Porridge Making Championships, held in the tiny, picturesque village of Carrbridge in the Scottish Highlands.

The first notable thing about The Golden Spurtle, revealed in the opening titles, is that it is a Screen Australia production, which does seem odd for a film about a Scottish porridge contest. The reason for the Australian taxpayer’s contribution is Toby Wilson, a young Sydney taco chef who, some years ago, caught the porridge bug (a metaphorical insect, not an oatmeal parasite) and who writer-director Constantine Costi follows in his preparation for and participation in the 30th Golden Spurtle championship.

Toby is an appealingly typical Aussie bloke, wry and self-aware and almost a little nonplussed by finding himself in a movie about porridge, as much as he does love the stuff.

But while Toby may be the reason this film was made, by a filmmaker on the opposite side of the world, he’s not really the star. That honour goes to Charlie Miller, the “chieftain” of the Golden Spurtle, who is, at the 30th event, organising proceedings for the final time.

Like a good bowl of porridge, The Golden Spurtle bubbles and boils over with warmth and charm.

Charlie is a small, round, undemonstrative Highlander, never making a fuss and relating the details, the logistics and the history of the competition without fanfare or hype. And yet his absolute, undeniable love comes through – love for his village, love for its people, and love for this world championship, which brings them together, along with porridge enthusiasts from around the world, each year.

Charlie Miller is the very epitome of a local hero, a man dedicating himself heart and soul to a decidedly eccentric passion in a way that has touched and improved the lives of countless people. And all because of porridge!

Porridge is as simple as food gets. Oats. Salt. Water (never milk, not in Scotland – that’s no’ how ye make porridge). Three ingredients, but how an iconic dish emerges from them is, as The Golden Spurtle makes clear, magic. And the characters we meet as they make their way to the championships feel that magic in their blood.

There’s Lisa, the unassuming reigning champion, with the sweetest of smiles but a forensically oat-oriented mind.

There’s Nick, the terribly posh English cafe owner whose passion for porridge is matched only by his frustration at his long history of trying, and failing, to win the Golden Spurtle.

There’s Adam, the geeky young fungus scientist who just seems happy to be there.

There’s the fearsome Ian Bishop, a porridge-making legend who is making a comeback at the 30th championship and who sends a shudder through the rest of the field with his very presence.

And of course Toby, the little Aussie battler, a man from a non-porridge culture taking on the experts at their own game – a kind of oaty Cool Runnings story.

Like a good bowl of porridge, The Golden Spurtle bubbles and boils over with warmth and charm. And like porridge, it is difficult to explain just how it works its wonders, with such humble ingredients, until you have a taste of it.

The film is reminiscent less of other documentaries than of many classic British small-town comedies, and you have to think that sooner or later, such a movie will be made based on it. However, while such comedies make you wish that the sweet, charming, slightly twee world they depict exists, The Golden Spurtle makes you smile with delight at the fact that it actually does.

What a beautiful thing it is that in a hard, cruel, ruthless world, one can find places like Carrbridge. What glory there is in the small and the simple things in life – like community. And friendship. And porridge.