Regie:
Lasse HallströmScenario:
Steven KnightCamera:
Linus SandgrenMuziek:
A.R. RahmanActeurs:
Helen Mirren, Om Puri, Manish Dayal, Charlotte Le Bon, Amit Shah, Farzana Dua Elahe, Dillon Mitra, Aria Pandya, Michel Blanc, Clément Sibony, Vincent Elbaz (meer)Streaming (1)
Samenvattingen(1)
De familie Kadam verhuist met grootse plannen van India naar het pittoreske Saint-Antonin-Noble-Val in Zuid-Frankrijk om daar een Indiaas restaurant te openen. Het rustig openen van het restaurant zit er echter niet in. De kille eigenaresse van het klassieke Franse restaurant Le Saule Pleureur, Madame Mallory protesteert hevig tegen de opening, wat escaleert in een flinke vete tussen de twee vestigingen. Wanneer zoon Hassan Kadam zijn passie voor de Franse haute cuisine ontdekt en valt voor sous-chef Marguerite, probeert hij te bemiddelen en de twee uiteenlopende culturen nader tot elkaar te brengen. (Entertainment One Benelux)
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Recensie (3)
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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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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