In a film titled “Chef” which strangely makes you miss out
on the guilty pleasure of watching some food porn, there is one lovely sequence
on the art of making tomato chutney.
Roshan Kalra (Saif
Ali Khan) is visiting Amritsar with his son, Armaan (Svar Kamble). Sharing his
own childhood journey of how he became a chef, and having given some great
gyaan on how it’s a privilege to feed people like the people doing seva in
Langar at the Golden Temple; he takes Arman to a local dhaba. After all, how
can a trip to Punjab be complete without gorging on those butter laden parathas
and wholesome, thick lassi? As soon as their food is served on the table,
Roshan asks why there is no tomato chutney with rightful icredulousness. The
dhaba was known for the chutney some 30 years ago. Since the glorious chutney
had not been made, our New York return chef gets going to work his magic.
Red, big, juicy tomatoes are stuck on a huge rod and turn
gold and black as they are roasted on the big earthen cooking fire inside the
dhaba kitchen. The camera transfixes you to the piping hot tomato pulp getting
squashed, other ingredients being chopped and Roshan mixing it all on the big,
smoking pan with the deftness of the practiced chef that he is.
The scene is the best part of the film for three reasons.
Firstly, it deals with the character’s
passion for cooking and traces it to the actual roots of learning.
Secondly, it shows the character passing on the quintessential Indian culture
to the next twitter hooked generation. Finally, it is all about the good, old,
simple, and absolute must food for the soul. That thing called chutney.
However, such moments are far and few. The original
Hollywood film, ‘Chef’, too had missed out on those basic ingredients of real
moments with food and worse: the lack of a conflict; a more vital requirement
of any story. Instead, a massive food truck took centre stage, as in this
Indian remake.
Director, Raja Krishna Menon who had shown his refreshing storytelling
craft in ‘Airlift”, does a great job of retaining the feel good factor of the
original film. He even takes a minor segment of the estranged couple and makes
it more Indian and palatable for the audiences unaccustomed to the dynamics of
a broken family. Menon turns it into a father- son bonding story with lots of
parenting lessons thrown in. One gets to see a Saif not seen before—a kurta
pyjama clad guy from Chandni Chowk and one with a temper. Only, it gets
unintentionally hilarious at points because Saif’s unconvincing acting wherein
he punches a restaurant customer in the beginning, is the most awkward scene.
Clearly Saif Ali Khan is no Albert Pinto. You get a glimpse of the old, self
effacing Saif-the butt of all jokes-- in a nice tete a tete with his ex wife’s
current boyfriend, Milind Soman (who could write a book titled “How to go Grey
and Look Fabulous in a Dhoti”). Then, of course, there is that cute little
reference to his younger ‘Dil Chahta Hai’ days in Goa when he was robbed by a
foreign woman.
While focusing on
Saif in this unassuming, simple role along with his interactions with a
lovely fresh cast like the beautiful and ever smiling Padmapriya Janakiraman
and the natural Svar Kamble in the lush city of God; Menon overlooks the essential
food journey and the cinematography required to bring out that spark in the
cooking fire; both visual and metaphorical.
Here is a beautiful
cinematic opportunity of capturing the utter meditative quality of preparing a
seven course meal or simply a fine salad which looks like a work of art.
Instead we see lots of onion chopping and unappealing, repetitive dishes of
pasta. Something that requires a baawarchi, not a chef—a distinction Roshan
loves to point out. So, instead of a kitchen journey of a man whose soul is one
with aroma and spices; we get a food and culture tour of India. From Kerala to
Amritsar. From Goa to Delhi. From Kochi’s idli appam to Chandni Chowk’s chole
bhature. Which, actually is a great way to Indianise Jon Favreau’s Chef. After
all, India is a land of the most divergent food culture and what better way to
show this through a road journey in a food truck? As is the case with a trip
through Miami, New Orleans and Texas in the Hollywood original.
The only hitch is that you end up longing for the scenic
Kerala roads surrounded by tall, coconut trees and rivers; instead of feasting
your eyes on a mouth watering hot, bubbling pot of saambar. To make you fall
in love with food and spices and watch the artist create with their knives and
hands, one needs more of “Julie and Julia” or “Chocolat”. And less of chicken
soup gyaan.
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