The Hundred Foot Journey Reviews
August 8, 2014
“The Hundred-Foot Journey” is a film that demands that you take it seriously. With its feel-good themes of multicultural understanding, it is about Something Important. It even comes with the stamp of approval from titanic tastemakers Oprah Winfrey and Steven Spielberg, who both serve as producers. What more convincing could you possibly need?
There’s something familiar about the treacly and sanctimonious way this film is being packaged. It reeks of late-‘90s/early ‘00s Miramax fare: films with tasteful yet ubiquitous ad campaigns and unabashed Oscar aspirations which suggested that seeing them (and, more importantly, voting for them) would make you a better person. Films like “The Cider House Rules,” “Chocolate” and “The Shipping News.” Films by Swedish director Lasse Hallstrom.
Hallstrom just happens to be the director here, as well, and the similarities to “Chocolate” are inescapable. Stop me if think you’ve heard this one before: A family moves into a quaint but closed-minded French village and shakes things up with an enticing array of culinary delicacies. This new enterprise happens to sit across the street from a conservative and revered building that’s a town treasure. But the food in question isn’t a bon bon this time—rather, the movie is the bon bon itself.
But despite being handsomely crafted, well acted and even sufficiently enjoyable, “The Hundred-Foot Journey” is also conventional and predictable. And for a film that’s all about opening up your senses and sampling spicy, exotic tastes, this comic drama is entirely too safe and even a little bland.
What livens things up, though, is the interplay between Helen Mirren and Om Puri as battling restaurant owners operating across the street from each other—100 feet away from each other, to be exact, a short but fraught trip that various characters take for various reasons. Watching these veteran actors stoop to sabotage each other provides a consistent source of laughs. She’s all sharp angles, piercing looks and biting quips; he’s all round joviality, boisterous blasts and warmhearted optimism. The contrast between the British Oscar-winner and the Indian acting legend offers the only tension in this otherwise soft and gooey dish—that is, until the film goes all soft and gooey, too.
Mirren stars as Madame Mallory, owner of Le Saule Pleurer (The Weeping Willow), an elegant and expensive French restaurant that’s the winner of a prestigious Michelin star. But one star isn’t enough for the coldly driven Mme. Mallory—she wants another, and then another.
But her bloodless quest for gourmet grandeur is interrupted by the arrival across the street of an Indian family: the Kadams, who’ve been wandering around Europe ever since their beloved restaurant back home burned down during political rioting. When the brakes on their car malfunction on a treacherous stretch of spectacular countryside, Papa (Puri) insists it’s a sign from his late wife and decides to open a new eatery in the charming town at the bottom of the hill.
Never mind that one of the most celebrated restaurants in all of France is sitting right across the street from the empty building he rents. Never mind that they are in an insular part of the country where the residents probably don’t even know what Indian cuisine is, much less like it, as his children point out. He has faith in his food—and in his son, Hassan (Manish Dayal), a brilliant, young chef.
Just as Papa and Mme. Mallory strike up a sparky rivalry, Hassan enjoys a flirtatious relationship with French sous chef Marguerite (Charlotte Le Bon, who played an early model and muse in the recent “Yves Saint Laurent” biopic). The script from Steven Wright (who also wrote the far trickier “Locke” from earlier this year, as well as “Dirty Pretty Things” and “Eastern Promises”) is full of such tidy parallels, as well as trite and overly simplistic proclamations about how food inspires memories. Dayal and Le Bon do look lovely together, though, and share a light, enjoyable chemistry.
Then again, it all looks lovely—both the French and Indian dishes as well as the lush, rolling surroundings, which we see through all four seasons; the work of cinematographer Linus Sandgren, who recently shot “American Hustle.” This sweetly pleasing combination of ingredients would have been perfectly suitable if the film didn’t take a wild and needless detour in the third act. That’s when it becomes an even less interesting movie than it already was, in spite of its loftier aspirations.
“The Hundred-Foot Journey” is a film that demands that you take it seriously. With its feel-good themes of multicultural understanding, it is about Something Important. It even comes with the stamp of approval from titanic tastemakers Oprah Winfrey and Steven Spielberg, who both serve as producers. What more convincing could you possibly need?
There’s something familiar about the treacly and sanctimonious way this film is being packaged. It reeks of late-‘90s/early ‘00s Miramax fare: films with tasteful yet ubiquitous ad campaigns and unabashed Oscar aspirations which suggested that seeing them (and, more importantly, voting for them) would make you a better person. Films like “The Cider House Rules,” “Chocolate” and “The Shipping News.” Films by Swedish director Lasse Hallstrom.
Hallstrom just happens to be the director here, as well, and the similarities to “Chocolate” are inescapable. Stop me if think you’ve heard this one before: A family moves into a quaint but closed-minded French village and shakes things up with an enticing array of culinary delicacies. This new enterprise happens to sit across the street from a conservative and revered building that’s a town treasure. But the food in question isn’t a bon bon this time—rather, the movie is the bon bon itself.
But despite being handsomely crafted, well acted and even sufficiently enjoyable, “The Hundred-Foot Journey” is also conventional and predictable. And for a film that’s all about opening up your senses and sampling spicy, exotic tastes, this comic drama is entirely too safe and even a little bland.
What livens things up, though, is the interplay between Helen Mirren and Om Puri as battling restaurant owners operating across the street from each other—100 feet away from each other, to be exact, a short but fraught trip that various characters take for various reasons. Watching these veteran actors stoop to sabotage each other provides a consistent source of laughs. She’s all sharp angles, piercing looks and biting quips; he’s all round joviality, boisterous blasts and warmhearted optimism. The contrast between the British Oscar-winner and the Indian acting legend offers the only tension in this otherwise soft and gooey dish—that is, until the film goes all soft and gooey, too.
Mirren stars as Madame Mallory, owner of Le Saule Pleurer (The Weeping Willow), an elegant and expensive French restaurant that’s the winner of a prestigious Michelin star. But one star isn’t enough for the coldly driven Mme. Mallory—she wants another, and then another.
But her bloodless quest for gourmet grandeur is interrupted by the arrival across the street of an Indian family: the Kadams, who’ve been wandering around Europe ever since their beloved restaurant back home burned down during political rioting. When the brakes on their car malfunction on a treacherous stretch of spectacular countryside, Papa (Puri) insists it’s a sign from his late wife and decides to open a new eatery in the charming town at the bottom of the hill.
Never mind that one of the most celebrated restaurants in all of France is sitting right across the street from the empty building he rents. Never mind that they are in an insular part of the country where the residents probably don’t even know what Indian cuisine is, much less like it, as his children point out. He has faith in his food—and in his son, Hassan (Manish Dayal), a brilliant, young chef.
Just as Papa and Mme. Mallory strike up a sparky rivalry, Hassan enjoys a flirtatious relationship with French sous chef Marguerite (Charlotte Le Bon, who played an early model and muse in the recent “Yves Saint Laurent” biopic). The script from Steven Wright (who also wrote the far trickier “Locke” from earlier this year, as well as “Dirty Pretty Things” and “Eastern Promises”) is full of such tidy parallels, as well as trite and overly simplistic proclamations about how food inspires memories. Dayal and Le Bon do look lovely together, though, and share a light, enjoyable chemistry.
Then again, it all looks lovely—both the French and Indian dishes as well as the lush, rolling surroundings, which we see through all four seasons; the work of cinematographer Linus Sandgren, who recently shot “American Hustle.” This sweetly pleasing combination of ingredients would have been perfectly suitable if the film didn’t take a wild and needless detour in the third act. That’s when it becomes an even less interesting movie than it already was, in spite of its loftier aspirations.
The Hundred Foot Journey Francois Duhamel/Dreamworks
August 7, 2014
Director Lasse Hallström is in the “nice” movie business. With a knack for drama (What's Eating Gilbert Grape, Cider House Rules) and romance (Salmon Fishing in the Yemen, Chocolat, and two Nicholas Sparks adaptations), the Swedish filmmaker routinely braves the dangerous waters of sentimentality to tell stories of nice people surviving not-so-nice realities. The Hundred-Foot Journey is quintessential Hallström. A fairy tale of compassion and good taste, the adaptation of Richard C. Morais' novel is assembled from familiar ingredients into dramatic comfort food. The conflict between two feuding restaurants -- a Michelin-starred establishment known for haute cuisine and a tattered Indian food upstart struggling to make it work across the street, exactly 100 feet apart -- comes and goes, never that dire, never tainting the warm and fuzzy confection Hallström whips up from his recipe book. Produced by Steven Spielberg and Oprah Winfrey, Hallström designs The Hundred-Foot Journey to provoke smiles, tears, and stomach growls. It's not filling, but it's tasty.
The Hundred-Foot Journey - Trailer #1 02:33 “Breaks break for a reason,” Papa (Om Puri) tells his son Hassan (Manish Dayal), recounting his late wife's words of wisdom. Retreating with his family from the political strife of India to Europe, Papa embraces fate when his family's rundown van peters out in a small, French village. Despite his family's insistence of fixing up the clunker and hightailing it to a big city, Papa's smells opportunity. He wants to resurrect the restaurant he was forced to close in India and a rundown building opposite the fanciest fine dining within 50 miles might be the place. The previous owners couldn't compete with Le Saule Pleureur, managed by the ruthless perfectionist, Madame Mallory (Helen Mirren). But Papa has a secret weapon for “Maison Mumbai”: Hassan.
Writer Steven Knight (Locke, Eastern Promises) kneads a handful of plots into The Hundred-Foot Journey's rambling narrative. At first, Hassan and his father butt heads with Mallory in the simplest
Matt Patches Says Watch This If You Liked:
There's an emotional resonance to food that looks this good. Without overstating it, Hallström suggests peace can be found in well-cooked veal with a dash of coriander. Cooking television devotees might find the drama a bit cheeky (more than one preparation sequence rings of Iron Chef, while Mirren actually utters, “Take your knives and go”), but Hallström aims for something more than cooking as an on-the-nose metaphor. When the film reaches for contrived danger -- at one point, a member of Mallory's kitchen staff Molotov cocktails Maison Mumbai in a fit of anti-Indian rage -- cooking leads it back to character, great company dining on great food against the great vistas of Southern France. The Hundred-Foot Journey sounds quick, but it always takes the scenic route.
Charlotte Le Bon
There's not a rotten performance in the bunch (and there couldn't be -- every element is front and center in this dish). Mirren, Hallström's marquee name, snarls and snaps with integrity intact. In her hands, a Cruella de Vil imitation is fully developed, a widow channeling her remaining life into acclaimed cuisine. Marguerite tells Hassan that Mallory can tell if a cook has a future of greatness by tasting their omelet, whatever that may be. When the inevitable challenge goes down, Hallström serves up an exquisite mix of cooking action and reactionary performance from Mirren and Dayal. One bite acts like sunbeams bursting through Mirren's chilling exterior. It's a tiny, lavish bit of acting -- not unlike the morsels one might find in five-star French dinners.
Dayal delivers a star turn alongside the Dame, every bit as restrained and curious as a young Matt Damon. Compassionate, keen, and sturdy, Dayal evolves Hassan from inquisitive cook to top-tier chef without missing a beat. Knight's script gives him plenty to chew on, but even the ham-fisted romance plot is accentuated by Dayal's grace. It's not just that Hassan's preparation of France's “Mother Sauces” (Béchamel, Espagnole, Veloute, Hollandaise, Tomate, if you're taking notes) look divine, it's how Dayal gently feeds them to Marguerite. That's love. Puri finds equal footing in the small-scale drama. A legend of Indian cinema, he arrives to Hallström's film glowing with patriarchal stubbornness and benevolence. Watching him quarrel with Mirren is joyful.
Charlotte Le Bon
Director Lasse Hallström is in the “nice” movie business. With a knack for drama (What's Eating Gilbert Grape, Cider House Rules) and romance (Salmon Fishing in the Yemen, Chocolat, and two Nicholas Sparks adaptations), the Swedish filmmaker routinely braves the dangerous waters of sentimentality to tell stories of nice people surviving not-so-nice realities. The Hundred-Foot Journey is quintessential Hallström. A fairy tale of compassion and good taste, the adaptation of Richard C. Morais' novel is assembled from familiar ingredients into dramatic comfort food. The conflict between two feuding restaurants -- a Michelin-starred establishment known for haute cuisine and a tattered Indian food upstart struggling to make it work across the street, exactly 100 feet apart -- comes and goes, never that dire, never tainting the warm and fuzzy confection Hallström whips up from his recipe book. Produced by Steven Spielberg and Oprah Winfrey, Hallström designs The Hundred-Foot Journey to provoke smiles, tears, and stomach growls. It's not filling, but it's tasty.
The Hundred-Foot Journey - Trailer #1 02:33 “Breaks break for a reason,” Papa (Om Puri) tells his son Hassan (Manish Dayal), recounting his late wife's words of wisdom. Retreating with his family from the political strife of India to Europe, Papa embraces fate when his family's rundown van peters out in a small, French village. Despite his family's insistence of fixing up the clunker and hightailing it to a big city, Papa's smells opportunity. He wants to resurrect the restaurant he was forced to close in India and a rundown building opposite the fanciest fine dining within 50 miles might be the place. The previous owners couldn't compete with Le Saule Pleureur, managed by the ruthless perfectionist, Madame Mallory (Helen Mirren). But Papa has a secret weapon for “Maison Mumbai”: Hassan.
Writer Steven Knight (Locke, Eastern Promises) kneads a handful of plots into The Hundred-Foot Journey's rambling narrative. At first, Hassan and his father butt heads with Mallory in the simplest
Matt Patches Says Watch This If You Liked:
There's an emotional resonance to food that looks this good. Without overstating it, Hallström suggests peace can be found in well-cooked veal with a dash of coriander. Cooking television devotees might find the drama a bit cheeky (more than one preparation sequence rings of Iron Chef, while Mirren actually utters, “Take your knives and go”), but Hallström aims for something more than cooking as an on-the-nose metaphor. When the film reaches for contrived danger -- at one point, a member of Mallory's kitchen staff Molotov cocktails Maison Mumbai in a fit of anti-Indian rage -- cooking leads it back to character, great company dining on great food against the great vistas of Southern France. The Hundred-Foot Journey sounds quick, but it always takes the scenic route.
Charlotte Le Bon
There's not a rotten performance in the bunch (and there couldn't be -- every element is front and center in this dish). Mirren, Hallström's marquee name, snarls and snaps with integrity intact. In her hands, a Cruella de Vil imitation is fully developed, a widow channeling her remaining life into acclaimed cuisine. Marguerite tells Hassan that Mallory can tell if a cook has a future of greatness by tasting their omelet, whatever that may be. When the inevitable challenge goes down, Hallström serves up an exquisite mix of cooking action and reactionary performance from Mirren and Dayal. One bite acts like sunbeams bursting through Mirren's chilling exterior. It's a tiny, lavish bit of acting -- not unlike the morsels one might find in five-star French dinners.
Dayal delivers a star turn alongside the Dame, every bit as restrained and curious as a young Matt Damon. Compassionate, keen, and sturdy, Dayal evolves Hassan from inquisitive cook to top-tier chef without missing a beat. Knight's script gives him plenty to chew on, but even the ham-fisted romance plot is accentuated by Dayal's grace. It's not just that Hassan's preparation of France's “Mother Sauces” (Béchamel, Espagnole, Veloute, Hollandaise, Tomate, if you're taking notes) look divine, it's how Dayal gently feeds them to Marguerite. That's love. Puri finds equal footing in the small-scale drama. A legend of Indian cinema, he arrives to Hallström's film glowing with patriarchal stubbornness and benevolence. Watching him quarrel with Mirren is joyful.
Charlotte Le Bon