Directed by:
Lasse HallströmScreenplay:
Steven KnightCinematography:
Linus SandgrenComposer:
A.R. RahmanCast:
Helen Mirren, Om Puri, Manish Dayal, Charlotte Le Bon, Michel Blanc, Vincent Elbaz, Juhi Chawla, Amit Shah, Farzana Dua Elahe, Clément Sibony, Alban Aumard (more)VOD (1)
Plots(1)
Hassan Kadam (Manish Dayal) is a culinary ingénue with the gastronomic equivalent of perfect pitch. Displaced from their native India, the Kadam family, led by Papa (Om Puri), settles in the quaint village of Saint-Antonin-Noble-Val in the south of France. Filled with charm, it is both picturesque and elegant – the ideal place to settle down and open an Indian restaurant, the Maison Mumbai. That is, until the chilly chef proprietress of Le Saule Pleureur, a Michelin starred, classical French restaurant run by Madame Mallory (Helen Mirren), gets wind of it. Her icy protests against the new Indian restaurant a hundred feet from her own escalate to all out war between the two establishments – until Hassan's passion for French haute cuisine and for Mme. Mallory's enchanting sous chef, Marguerite (Charlotte Le Bon), combine with his mysteriously delicious talent to weave magic between their two cultures and imbue Saint-Antonin with the flavors of life that even Mme. Mallory cannot ignore. At first Mme. Mallory's culinary rival, she eventually recognizes Hassan's gift as a chef and takes him under her wing. (official distributor synopsis)
(more)Reviews (3)
It’s been a long time since I saw such an incredibly enjoyable movie as The Hundred-Foot Journey. From a xenophobic point of view, I have to praise the creators, because everyone here was really charismatic. And especially the Indian family, who didn’t hesitate to move into the house opposite a famous restaurant to open their own establishment there. It was all incredibly relaxing. Starting with the story, through the characters and ending with the filmmaking. And I really didn’t mind that the film was 122 minutes long. I enjoyed every minute and waited for what would come next, because the Indian audacity in that one small French village had taken my breath away. What I didn’t understand was the way how the French were portrayed in this film – especially somewhere in the middle of French vineyards in a village where it is difficult not to meet a French hillbilly. But strangely enough all the people there were speaking English. A bit of a mystery, that.
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Three quarters of the film is shot like a margarine commercial, it takes seven thousand years, and the whole thing is as predictable as a pedophile in a sandbox. Food fetish (as opposed to foot fetish) is not a genre or a measure of a film's quality. And my Chinese soup agrees with me. PS: It would be great if Hallström would die already.
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If that movie were significantly shorter and didn't resemble "Chocolat" in its setting even a bit, it would be absolutely beautiful celebration of food. Like this, it is still a celebration of food, additionally of my beloved Indian cuisine, but at the same time, it is a bit lengthy romance and an example that it actually doesn't matter on those stars if you are not happy.
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