La Cocina Review
Alonso Ruizpalacios’s La Cocina is a somewhat updated version of Arnold Wesker’s 1957 play The Kitchen. It transports a British drama to a New York tourist trap and focuses on a new generation of migrant workers.
La Cocina begins by following Estella (Anna Diaz), a young Hispanic migrant, into the world of The Grill, a restaurant in Times Square. It’s the type of place any traveller worth their salt knows to avoid – the sort of t you know will overcharge you for the toughest steak you’ve ever had. Estella is there for a job, hopeful of her chances due to her acquaintance with one of the chefs. After an unenthusiastic welcome, she descends into the submarine-like underbelly of the restaurant for what could only generously be described as an interview from manager Luis (Eduardo Olmos) – an interview she lies about her identity for. The need to lie for survival, to employers, each other, and oneself, is a constant theme of the film. Just to get through the day, small lies must be employed to keep going.
This is not a story about Estella, though; she functions primarily as an audience proxy, taking us into an unfamiliar world. The central story is a doomed romance between chef Pedro (Raúl Briones) and waitress Julia (Rooney Mara), the latter determined to abort their unplanned baby – no matter the cost. Unable to skip a shift, she plans the procedure for her lunch break, a harsh reminder of the precarity of unstable, low-paid work.
Briones and Mara play off of one another well, painting a picture of two somewhat lost souls finding each other in an environment that has no time for such human inclinations. Relationships between ing characters, too, are well constructed. Thrown together by circumstance, the oppressive environment of the restaurant and the shared experiences of many as non-American citizens push the workers closer together, prompting spontaneously sincere conversations that might not be realised outside of such a pressure-cooker way of life.
The kitchen itself is a sensory assault. In the hectic rush of the narrow kitchen, between shouts in any number of languages being flung across the stations, the clanging of pots, and the sizzle of meat, the staff sling out meal after meal for the patrons of the clean, serene dining room just feet away from them. The only thing that keeps the scene somewhat muted is the use of monochrome, which at once tones down the chaos and enhances the starkness of the situation. In the kitchen, things are black and white, right and wrong. Or at least that’s the idea.
The reality is a world away. Small disagreements quickly become fiery outbursts, the frantic nature of working in hospitality pushing everyone involved to their breaking points. Injustices in the kitchen vary from sharp comments and petty criticisms to broader issues of race relations and the exploitation of migrant workers. It becomes abundantly clear that nothing is off limits in this setting, each member of staff knowing that they have no other option but to clock in each day and hope for the best. Many of them are hoping to get their visas through this gig; complaining or looking for solutions that aren’t just quick fixes is out of the question.
Between the personal dramas of the staff, broken machines, manipulative bosses, and stolen money, all culminating in a flooded kitchen, complete breakdowns, and an all-out brawl, Ruizpalacios creates a stunningly complex yet compact world. Not every beat hits – the tone is sometimes shaky, making Pedro’s spiralling psyche not quite as impactful as it could be – but strong performances, stunning cinematography and visual design, and a script that doesn’t let itself become overly profound hold the piece together.
La Cocina is a film that sticks with you. Technically accomplished and emotionally engaging, it’s a compelling discussion of the race, gender, and socioeconomic lines that run through the working world – and beyond.
★★★★
In UK cinemas on March 28th / Rooney Mara, Raúl Briones, Anna Diaz, Eduardo Olmos, Motell Foster, Oded Fehr / Dir: Alonso Ruizpalacios / Picturehouse Entertainment / 15
Discover more from
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
