Our review of The Chef: a shipwreck in the kitchen

CRITICISM – In a long sequence shot, Philip Barantini films the descent into hell of a London gourmet cook confronted with an apocalyptic gunshot. The eloquent portrait of a cruel environment.

Beside The Chef, “Cauchemar en cuisine” could pass for a culinary version of “Chapi Chapo”. Philip Barantini’s feature film, shot in a single shot of 1h34, leaves the viewer breathless, stunned, KO.

The action takes place in a fashionable “bistronomic” restaurant somewhere in London on the Friday before Christmas (“Magic Friday”). The number of reservations exploded, we had to add tables. The camera tracks the protagonists, customers, waiters or scullions, in the kitchen, in the past, in the dining room, even to the toilets if necessary, as it would in the cramped corridors of a sinking submarine.

No one will come out unscathed

It is a question of telling a particular evening of the chef Andy Jones until then in full ascent (Stephen Graham, impressive as a drowning man), during which everything will go into a spin. It begins with a banal check of the hygiene services, about twenty minutes before opening, led by a ruthless civil servant whose courtesy produces the…

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