Imagine the legendary Copacabana Steadicam shot from GoodFellas if, instead of heading to a swanky table, Henry Hill had taken a left into the kitchen and started whisking a bisque. That's the gist of this culinary cinematic experiment, which stars Stephen Graham as a highly stressed-out chef on a particularly taxing night at his Dalston restaurant. Intensity is the name of the game — think Uncut Gems with gem lettuces — and director Philip Barantini whips up a nerve-shreddingly enjoyable 96 minutes, even if it doesn’t always grip quite as much as it could.
Every possible problem, challenge and soup crisis that could be faced by a person in a white apron is hurled at Graham’s Andy, already a stubbly, sweaty, sleep-deprived mess of a man when we meet him at the start. He’s got personal problems, which have led to him living out of a suitcase. An officious food hygiene inspector is sniffing around his workplace, literally. A pompous rival chef (Jason Flemyng, a hoot) has turned up, too, to sit and sneer and make unhelpful comments. And all of it is captured in one virtuoso single take, the camera careening around as diners stomp in and the night threatens to spin off its axis. The no-cuts approach pays off in a couple of ways. Geographically, it helps immerse us in the ecosystem of the eatery, as we follow waiters into the calm waters of the restaurant, then plummet back into the crashing waves of the kitchen, syncing us into the distinct, urgent rhythms of a high-end bistro. And it also accentuates the fraying nerves of Andy, as he’s pulled one way, then another, over and over again. His spiking adrenaline and swelling panic are contagious — you might just find yourself getting anxious about a shortage of beef.
A bold, bravura experiment that largely grips.
Sometimes, the film’s form works against it — by attempting to flesh out every worker in the restaurant, Boiling Point occasionally hits a tension-diffusing flat stretch (at one point, we watch a man take out the bins in real time). And while kitchen consigliere Carly (Vinette Robinson) is a compelling secondary lead, some of the other characters feel more crudely drawn. It's understandable why Barantini felt the need to cut away from Andy from time to time — for Graham to be centre-stage for the entire shot would have been an even more Olympian feat of acting than it already is — but not all of the subplots are sufficiently seasoned. The third act, too, feels a little disappointing, with some blatantly signalled twists and turns, and a climax for Andy that feels a little unsatisfying.
Still, these are niggles — it’s a bold, bravura experiment that largely grips, with a powerhouse performance by Graham at its core. And it’ll certainly get you wondering what the hell’s going on behind the scenes next time you visit your local Nando’s.
