By Kyle Osborne
In the midst of all the summer bombast—the monsters and the superheroes and the big-budget extravaganzas, may we take a moment for a little “counter-programming”? I’ve let it quietly go for a few weeks, but it’s starting to expand into more theaters and it’s time to talk about this movie.
“Chef” is a nice little film, and I don’t mean that in a dismissive way—it’s a small film, with a small cast and, of course, a small budget. But it makes a big impact. It’s full of belly laughs and so-called “food porn” and it’s got a heart as big as director and star Jon Favreau’s ample frame.
And nothing bad happens. I hope that isn’t a spoiler. My mom always asks me if whatever movie I’m talking about ends well or not. I say, “Mom, if I told you how it ended, it would spoil it for you.” Her reply is usually, “Yes, but if it doesn’t end happily, I’m not going to see it anyway, so…”
I take her point—I mean, she says these things with a smile on her face and in her voice, but she only wants what a lot of people want at the movies: a brief escape to another world, a few chuckles, or an interesting dramatic arc. And then, a soft landing—maybe a couple of bloopers or cut footage during the credit roll. A lot of folks want to leave the theatre smiling.
And “Chef” gives the viewer everything described in the previous paragraph. Well, it may not seem like all is well at first. Favreau plays Chef Carl Casper, who tends a relatively successful and upscale Los Angeles restaurant. The patrons love it because they know exactly what to expect every time they go.
And that grates at Casper, because what he really wants to do is what he wants to do. He wants to take chances, be daring. His boss, the restaurant owner (Dustin Hoffman) doesn’t see things that way, and when a snooty critic rips into Casper for the very reasons he has brought up to his boss, he goes off. On Twitter. Where everyone can see. Big mistake.
His sous-chef and I guess you’d call him the sous-sous-chef? (probably not) are played with wonderful comedic timing by John Lequizamo and Bobby Cannavale. They know what Carl doesn’t—that you don’t put anything on Twitter that you don’t want the whole world to see. Even his son, who has been neglected by his too busy to care father, knows that social media can bite on in the ass, if one isn’t careful/
Not giving away anything not in the trailer, but the whole mess ends up with Favreau’s character out of a job. He decides to buy a food truck in Florida and, after sprucing up the truck and getting his son to go along for the trip (along with Leguizamo, who throws in his lot with Favreau), they drive the truck from Florida to California.
The road trip provides nice moments of insight, more than a few snorts of laughter, and a generally good vibe as father and son bond and Chef comes to terms with what is most important in his life.
It may sound like I’ve given away a lot, but you’ll see, there are so many small moments that add up to a cumulatively joyful experience that you’ll walk ten feet off the ground as you leave the theater.
And you’ll head to the nearest place to get something good to eat. Preferably a Cuban pressed sandwich.
“Chef” gets a very rare 4 out of 4 Stars. It’s rated “R” because the dialogue is authentic and these guys talk the way kitchen people do—with lots of “colorful” language and colorful tattoos and cigarettes and they don’t wash their hands and, well, the list goes on.