The fast-paced life of the food industry is a modern miracle that is rarely appreciated. Any waiter or cook will tell you that no matter the level of industry, be it a McDonald’s or a steakhouse, creating food quickly and to customer satisfaction is a daunting task. Burnt attempts to take this one step further by exploring the mind of someone who loves the fast-paced nature of the business. While Burnt does find success in exploring the complex mind of the ever-loveable Bradley Cooper as self-destructive chef Adam Jones, it ultimately fails with its lackluster narrative.
Too Many Ingredients
Jones falls into the same category as other lovable flawed geniuses, such as Sherlock Holmes or Dr. House. All of them have terrible people skills with their own respective talents, and our wonder chef is no different. He abuses drugs, his employees, and basically every positive thing in his life. After having a professional and emotional fallout, he leaves the world of fine dining to shuck oysters and reboot. After completing his ordained rehab, he decides that he will finish what he started and create a restaurant that gets the coveted three star Michelin rating.
If the film limited itself to a simple redemption story, Burnt would have been an overtly familiar, but still enjoyable film. Instead, in an attempt to mix the recipe, screenwriter Steven Knight attempts to throw in a number of confusing overly convoluted plotlines that detach from more interesting threads. First, there is Jones’s protégé David, who is made out to be this individual of great potential, but only ever emerges as an object for Jones to yell at.
Sienna Miller is wasted through most of the runtime, only showing up to shout about the difficulties of being a single mother, which, while totally warranted, are useless in the story Burnt is trying to tell. Even some of Jones’s old drug dealers come back to cause problems, though Jones already has to deal with overcoming his past, his addictions, and flawed character. There is simply too much to fully wrap your head around and I often found myself reeling as yet another plot line was introduced. I can appreciate Knight’s effort to expand what could have been a simple Rocky with food, but it comes off feeling unnecessary and annoying more than anything else.
Presentation is Everything
Direction-wise, things taste a little better. Director John Wells’s scenes focusing on the fast-paced rush of an artistic kitchen are easily the best the film has to offer. The food porn is delectable and had me watering at the mouth for its creations more than once. Establishing shots of London show a city both grand and grungy, but never unappealing. There are some especially fun tracking shots following Cooper as he directs his kitchen staff, focusing in on his intense eyes as he urges the workers to be better.
In a way, Chef Jones reminded me of J.K. Simmons’s character from Whiplash, always pushing for the best no matter what the cost. He doesn’t care about getting things done right; he cares about being the best and he lets nothing stand in his way. It makes for a flawed but driven character that you can’t help but love.
Sadly, that is where the positives end. Aside from Bradley Cooper’s performance and some fun food scenes, Burnt never really makes an impact. It’s a shame that not even the star-studded cast that it brought along could save it. We have the likes of Uma Thurman, Alicia Vikander, and Emma Thompson, and yet they rarely come off as anything more than annoyances and distractions from an otherwise engaging story about a self-destructive artist.
Thurman in particular is only used for about 10 minutes total, which is downright cinema blasphemy. All of the parts are there, but the machine just can’t bring itself together. Maybe they should’ve added a little more spice.
Was Cooper enough star power to get that bland taste out of our mouths? Are these incessant puns getting old? Let us know in the comments!
(top image source: The Weinstein Company)
Does content like this matter to you?
Become a Member and support film journalism. Unlock access to all of Film Inquiry`s great articles. Join a community of like-minded readers who are passionate about cinema - get access to our private members Network, give back to independent filmmakers, and more.