Film Review - The Kitchen Brigade
Images courtesy of Madman Entertainment.
“I’m not some cafeteria cook.” – Cathy Marie.
Films about overqualified teachers inspiring a group of misfits aren’t anything new. Dead Poets Society, Mona Lisa Smile, Freedom Writers – all these films feature educators hellbent on helping the next generation succeed. Whether they’re standing on tables yelling “O Captain! My Captain!” or simply reading a book, the teacher’s passion permeates throughout the class, encouraging the students to achieve their dreams. Cathy Marie, a sous chef at a prominent restaurant in Paris, shares none of these inspirational qualities. In fact, she doesn’t want to be a teacher at all. Stubborn, married to her job, and sick of being disregarded by her head chef, Cathy quits in the pursuit of becoming the head chef of her own restaurant. However, low on money, she reluctantly accepts a job as the sole cook at a hostel for underage migrants, where she inadvertently becomes a mentor for the boys who help her in the kitchen.
One of the most charming elements of The Kitchen Brigade is watching the young boys slowly melt Cathy’s cold heart. Filled with some hilarious interactions (particularly with a cute ten-year old boy named Gus Gus), our heroine transforms from culinary snob to reluctant tutor, forming a makeshift ‘kitchen brigade’ out of the able-bodied helpers. Hundreds of peeled shallots later, and Cathy learns to appreciate the tenacity and resilience of the boys who have faced such challenging childhoods. Mostly African refugees, they’re tasked with finding an education before the age of eighteen or face deportation back to their home countries. As such, Cathy’s kitchen becomes both a refuge and a symbol of hope for the kids, who learn that obtaining a cooking apprenticeship could save them from their fates.
The formulaic nature of the plot, combined with the overused ‘disgruntled-but-then-loving-parental-figure’, makes The Kitchen Brigade a familiar tale. It’s like putting on one of your favourite old sweaters – it feels warm and fuzzy, and you enjoy it, but it doesn’t feel particularly fresh. By no means does this detract from the uplifting narrative, but it emulates a lot of the cliches seen in films like School of Rock or Mighty Ducks – a loveable hero, the comic-relief best friend, the resistant bully who comes around, moments of failure before inevitable triumph. Heavy on montage and hyperbole, it’s easy to be cynical about something this formulaic. However, The Kitchen Brigade manages to distinguish itself from its fellow underdog stories with a secret ingredient – the kitchen.
Cutting and chopping and boiling and cooking, Cathy and the boys fly around the kitchen making dishes I’ve never heard of. However, as they each stand up and present their meal to Cathy – “something that mother used to make”, “this reminds me of home”, “something I can be proud of” – the film starts pulling on my heartstrings. A few scenes later, when the boys are celebrating cooking their first meal for the ‘brigade’, I’m fully invested, cheering them on from my seat. In the kitchen, the boys are empowered to be more than just ‘migrants’ – they’re accomplished chefs making memories with their friends. The kitchen acts as an equaliser, with the connectivity of food quashing any racial, cultural, or gendered discrimination. Presenting the kitchen as such an idealised safe haven could be seen as an asinine approach to such a complex sociological issue, but the simplicity gives it a level of sincerity I thought was beautiful.
Simplistic, formulaic, and crowd-pleasing, The Kitchen Brigade plays it safe with emotional beats you’ve seen before, but its wholesome characterisation is guaranteed to melt your heart.
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The Kitchen Brigade is screening in cinemas from Thursday, the 16th of June. For tickets and more info, click here.