“Look, if you bought Stones tickets and Jagger didn’t play Satisfaction, how would you feel? Would you be happy? No! You’d burn the place to the f-ing ground.”

Anthony’s rating: Best foodie movie since Big Night

Anthony’s review: Who says a movie needs to be dark and edgy, bleak and gritty to be taken seriously? Sure, those can be quite the brain twister and a good watch as well (Chris Nolan’s film library comes to mind), but can’t a heartfelt, uplifting movie with nothing nasty to say reach a spot on the same shelf? Although truth be told, one could read, between the lines of this feel-good food fest, a plate of insults towards Tinseltown executives. And I won’t mind.

In Chef, high-end chef Carl Casper, divorced from a woman he still loves (Sofia Vergara, because why not) and father to a son he can’t find time to raise, comes up to an important milestone in his career: The fancy restaurant whose kitchen he leads will be reviewed by the most infamous food critic in the land (named, curiously enough, “Ramsey,” and played by Oliver Platt). Things do not go down well. Being torn apart by words is only the beginning of his end. Next he’ll discover Twitter, and take his meltdown viral.

Now out of a job and unemployable, Carl finds himself at the bottom with only one way to go: Riding across the country in a food truck with his most loyal friend (John Leguizamo), his son whom he can finally get to know, to discover a renewed sense of self.

One thing can’t be denied to Jon Favreau for this personal endeavour of his. He mightily challenged box-office mammoth Guardians of the Galaxy for best soundtrack of that year. The Cuban-laced rhythms of Chef carry the tone with a fresh optimism too seldom showcased in an era so dark at the movies that one can only hope we will ever again see the lightheartedness of Frank Capra or Billy Wilder. Joe Cuba and his contemporaries infuse this movie with such delight that Marvin Gaye might finally find eternal peace in knowing that someone managed to make an incredibly engaging cover of Sexual Healing. A very friggin’ lengthy one if you decided to put it on your driving playlist, but amazing and engaging.

Favreau doesn’t shy away from how personal this project is to him, surrounding himself with people he truly wants in his movie and vice versa. This is true even if it means a one-scene-only cameo from Robert Downey Jr who, let’s face it, could school any given Oscar winner of the last 30 years with such a short appearance. Even John Leguizamo, the king of playing it over-the-top, has the good sense to be only a supporting actor in a performance that made me forgive him for how badly he phoned-in One For the Money. Meanwhile ScarJo herself plays… well ScarJo, who probably could not refuse a request from the man who cast her as the MCU’s Black Widow (Emily Blunt had won the part over her but dropped out, which the actress was anything but bitter about).

The only thing looking better than the cast is the gosh darn food, which is ever present and so pervasive it made my own culinary “talent” recoil in jealousy. Honestly, watchers of your weight, stay away from this one. Case in point: Favreau’s girth. You KNOW the guy “practised” a lot before filming, especially if you have yourself a double-bill with this and Swingers.

So what’s this about the director flipping the bird to the industry? Well… the film concerns Jon Favreau’s character who, after being hailed in his debut for his independence and spirit (Swingers, Made), reaches the big time with a bang (Iron Man) but then succumbs to corporate drone-ship which gets him shredded by haters and vitriolic critics (Iron Man 2, Cowboys and Aliens). So he goes back to his smaller, personal roots to do something for himself — something that truly makes HIM happy (this movie) — which in turn re-opens the door for bigger yet still-personal projects (The Mandalorian).

Just take that one scene where Carl goes publicly berserk on the mega-critic. “It hurts!” the cuisto keeps yelling to his tormentor, as if to remind everyone who turned on his directorial work that he made the movie which Marvel built their cinematic universe on (not to mention he had to fight tooth and nails for Downey to be Tony Stark, one of the greatest casting decisions in the entire history of cinema).

That being said, seekers of lowbrow, high-octane entertainment will surely find a bore in this effort from Favreau, but the rest of us shouldn’t resist the salsa being served on a smiling platter, both musically and mouth-wateringly. If Chef doesn’t boast an original plotline, at least it serves a full order of sincere hope and optimism, something much needed right now amidst the darkness rapidly covering our entire world. And it’s also one heck of a sci-fi/fantasy movie, because there’s no way in HELL an out-of-shape, broke grouch like that scores with ScarJo AND Sofia Vergara.

I don’t care how flipping good a cook he is.

Intermission!

• There’s no way I would look away when chopping cucumbers faster than you can say MASSIVE HEMORRHAGE.
• Am I the one only one who remembers Bobby Canavale starring in the second coming of the sitcom Cupid?
• Dustin Hoffman is much too convincing as a two-faced asshole boss. Kinda gave me bad flashbacks. NOT talking about Justin, don’t worry. Love you J! [Ed.: Right back atcha!]
• The Twitter thing was already cliché back then. Not it’s Nostalgia. Bye Bye Birdie…
• “You need something to clear your mind” Sophia Vergara tells the man. I bet he knows what would get the job done, my dear lady.
• I work too close to a commercial kitchen for comfort. Believe me, that food truck’s filth is NOT fiction.
• Leguizamo doing the mambo with a soaking ham is weirdly erotic.
• I grew up thinking Hush Puppies were shoes, not deep fried testicles. My childhood was a lie.
• Seriously, What. A. Soundtrack. Never heard of Gary Clark Jr. before, big fan of his now.
• Greatest Oliver Platt role: The West Wing or The Bear? Did he ever give a bad one? Even in Lake Placid he was a hoot.
• Vine… already makes me feel old AF.
• Sofia, so amazing he married her twice!