Regie:
Lasse HallströmDrehbuch:
Steven KnightKamera:
Linus SandgrenMusik:
A.R. RahmanBesetzung:
Helen Mirren, Om Puri, Manish Dayal, Charlotte Le Bon, Amit Shah, Farzana Dua Elahe, Dillon Mitra, Aria Pandya, Michel Blanc, Clément Sibony (mehr)Streaming (5)
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Familie Kadam hat in Indien alles verloren. Als ihr Restaurant niedergebrannt wurde, ist die Mutter ums Leben gekommen. Nach Europa geflüchtet, wagen sie jetzt den Neuanfang. Eine Autopanne in einem Nest in Südfrankreich wird für den Papa zum Zeichen des Schicksals. Kurzerhand kauft er ein Haus, um mit seinem begnadet kochenden Sohn Hassan das 'Maison Mumbai' zu eröffnen. Dummerweise direkt gegenüber des piekfeinen Sterne-Restaurants von Madame Mallory, die ihnen postwendend den Krieg erklärt. (ORF)
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Der gesamte Film ist ein einziger Angriff auf die Gefühle, aber daran ist an bei Lasse schon gewöhnt. Eine angenehme romantische Komödie für einen Samstagabend mit der abstoßenden Helen Mirror, nationalistischen Franzosen, der kanadischen Version von Winona Ryder in der Zeit ihres größten Ruhms und einer gelungenen indischen Familie. Die Jagd nach Michelin-Sternen kann wirklich manchmal auch dreißig Jahre dauern, doch das Drehbuch müsste gekürzt werden, vor allem die letzte halbe Stunde war überflüssig lang, wo wir doch sowieso alle wussten, wie es ausgeht.
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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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If the film were significantly shorter and didn't resemble Chocolat in its setting, it would be a truly beautiful celebration of food. As it is, it's still a celebration of food, especially my beloved Indian cuisine, but at the same time, it's a bit of a drawn-out romance and a demonstration that in the end, it doesn't matter much if you're not happy.
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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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