If we learned anything from food-centric crowd-pleasers like Ratatouille or Chocolat, it’s that unexpected challengers will eventually bend uncompromising traditions and satisfy their opponents’ deepest indulgences. In Lasse Hallström’s latest, the characteristically conventional and good-natured The Hundred-Foot Journey, this often winning, timeless lesson is once again formulated and taught by a strong-willed underdog putting up a good fight to carve out a place within a society eager to rebuff him at once. This ultimately benign audience charmer, which should be avoided at all costs on an empty stomach, features some extensive imagery of exquisitely prepped cuisine, yet its gratifications are more on par with the short-lived contentment of deep-fried comfort foods. And based on what the film’s aiming for, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.
The story follows an Indian family, the Kadams, who find themselves in a sleepy town in the south of France after a series of mishaps. Deciding to open an eatery across the street (100 feet away, to be exact) from Le Saule Pleureur–one of the region’s most celebrated restaurants that proudly holds a single Michelin star, run by the snobby classicist Madame Mallory (Helen Mirren, as refined and everlasting as her restaurant’s exceptional dishes)–brings this family at odds with deeply rooted tradition and strong resistance to change. Hassan (Manish Dayal), one of the Kadams who happens to be a truly gifted chef, as well as his family’s vibrant new restaurant, Maison Mumbai, quickly rise in town, shining a lot brighter than Madame Mallory’s single Michelin star. Through a relentless rivalry between Madame Mallory and the Kadams’ thrifty, equally traditional Papa (Om Puri) and their hilarious attempts to bring one another down in the face of the town’s impossible bureaucracy, the film’s plot thickens once she discovers Hassan’s immeasurable talents and offers him a job at her restaurant, hoping to finally reach for that second Michelin star the restaurant has been after for some time.
With titles such as The Cider House Rules, Salmon Fishing in the Yemen, and Chocolat (a thematic sister of The Hundred-Foot Journey, also set in a small French town with a non-conventional, strong-willed protagonist), Hallström has an expertise on effectively distilling thick emotions and primer ideals, to be accessible by not only wide audiences, but occasionally the Academy as well. And with this film, adapted by Steven Knight (a surprising choice for this material, as he just wrote and directed the British crime drama Locke) from a best-selling novel by Richard C. Morais, Hallström reinforces his specialty in polished yet syrupy entertainment as he steers through material that ticks multiple boxes of universal themes around romance (there are two here), workplace rivalry, and cultural tolerance. Unfortunately, The Hundred-Foot Journey, which goes down like ice cream during two-thirds of its running time, starts feeling overstuffed toward its final act, getting lost in its Parisian food sequences after Hassan gets scooped up by one of Paris’ most innovative, chef-driven restaurants.
Yet, despite the film’s concluding lack of direction and loss of zest, Helen Mirren’s presence is a consolation prize; her talents (and timeless appearance) are hotter and more flavorful than any spice in Hassan’s secret family stash. Her character’s business sense and ruthless methods are at once reminiscent of The Devil Wears Prada’s Miranda Priestley, gladly prioritizing professional success over personal likability (but perhaps with more moderation). Plus A. R. Rahman’s (Slumdog Millionaire) rapturous score, which accompanies Linus Sandgren’s at times shaky but overall striking imagery, sweetens the romances between the film’s key characters of different generations: Hassan and Le Saule Pleureur’s exceptional, gorgeous sous chef Marguerite (Charlotte Le Bon) as well as the one between Papa and Madam Mallory.
There is a key turn in The Hundred-Foot Journey where Hassan – with the conceptual help of Marguerite – teaches himself how to master the five key French sauces to determine whether he really “has it” before officially trying his hand out in Madame Mallory’s infamous “omelet test.” Pardon the analogy, but if this film were a tray of those five sauces, it would pass with flying colors on at least three.
