The Hundred Foot Journey

 I'm not always a fan of Lasse Hallstrom's movies. In many ways, they represent what one of my old professors called "the real problem with Hollywood movies - they're boring. Boring because they're nothing more than pretty people in pretty places doing pretty things and never getting a hair out of place or ever moving out of the perfect lighting." All of Hallstrom's movies (at least the one's I've seen and especially his recent work) suffer from this affliction. Safe Haven, Salmon Fishing in the Yemen, Dear John, An Unfinished Life, Chocolat, etc. The actors always look like J. Crew models, the setting is always quaint and picturesque, and the light is always, always golden. His movies are often like postcards - lovely to look at but not really moving in any real way. His already sentimentalist tendencies are only exacerbated when he takes on soapy source material. Half of his recent output has been made up of Nicholas Sparks adaptations if that tells you anything.

Anyway, despite my predisposition to not having much appreciation for his work, I really liked The Hundred-Foot Journey. It has all of the Hallstrom hallmarks - unreasonably attractive actors, an absurdly picturesque setting, and magic hour lighting to beat the band, a lack of real visceral conflict - but instead of insulting and irritating me, those elements combined to do exactly what they are intended to do - I found it enchanting.

It's the story of an exceptionally gifted young Indian cook named Hassan (Manish Dayal). He and his family bounce from India to England to France following a tragedy at their restaurant in Mumbai. Their rattletrap van breaks down on the outskirts of a timelessly lovely French village and they are rescued by the most French Frenchwoman I've ever laid eyes on (played by Canadian actor Charlotte Le Bon). Turns out, she's a sous chef at the local classical French restaurant and is lovely and generous and kind and a future love interest for Hassan so obvious she could be spotted from the International Space Station.

Hassan's crafty, wise, cantankerous father (Om Puri) decides to open their family restaurant right across the street (one hundred feet to be exact) from the French restaurant run by Mdme. Mallory (Helen Mirren). Being the snootiest woman on the planet, she, of course, is appalled by their food, their music, their customs, and particularly by Papa's hucksterish business tactics. Sabotage, cultural misunderstandings, blossoming romance, and lots and lots of beautiful food footage ensue. It is a cross between foodie wish fulfillment and plain ol' grown-up fantasy. Hollywood escapism for people who don't like superheroes or vampires. As I said, normally this kind of stuff leaves me a little cold. This film did not. Why?

Maybe it's because each one of the lead actors is a nuclear power plant producing pure charisma. Dayal and Le Bon are both unfairly charming and attractive. Even Om Puri's pocked face exudes a magnetism that's pretty hard to ignore.

And Helen Mirren? Forget about it. She employs her familiar tools of imperiousness and seductiveness in equal parts, and frankly, I would pay to see that woman read the back of a cereal box because I am sure she could infuse the reading with a steeliness and vulnerability and intelligence that would make me think it was the BEST CEREAL EVER MADE. The scene in which Mdme. Mallory cooks and then eats an omelet according to Hassan's directions is an excellent example of what a legit actor can accomplish without a word of dialogue. 

But beyond just the charms of the actors and easy, ready-made satisfaction of the successful underdog who makes good story, I think there's something in particular about the subject - food and eating -- that's key to the film's appeal.

Restaurant dining and movie going are actually very similar in some ways. Ultimately, they are both communal. People, often strangers, come together in a specially designated space, consume something prepared for them by experts, and are somehow nourished by what they take in together. Movies, like food, can be celebration, commiseration, mood-altering, and moment-enhancing. There's a reason why dinner and a movie go together, you know? A film about the pleasures of cooking and eating is a potent combination of some of life's greatest sensory experiences.

It's a familiar recipe of Hallstrom's that we're being served here, certainly reminiscent of what we had in 2000's Chocolat. There are no real surprises in The Hundred Foot Journey, but that's okay. Sometimes something well-made, surprising or not, is pleasure enough.