The Kitchen
THE KITCHEN - Warner Bros Entertainment
On paper, The Kitchen offers up something unique in the way of potential. Directed by Andrea Berloff, the 1970s set New York mob thriller with a feminist spin boasts a tantalising trifecta of performances from comedic duo Tiffany Haddish and Melissa McCarthy in straight-laced dramatic roles - as well as Elizabeth Moss adding a significant injection of talent.
There is a lot of grit and bite involved here, but it is found in all the wrong places. The film fulfils its R-Rating in the most limiting sense, and when it dips its thematic toes into the deep end, it does so both significantly for face value. It is all surface-level schtick that feels more so a ploy to give the impression that the viewer is witnessing something with bravado and intensity. The Kitchen has all this potential to stand out from the crowd, but instead of carving its mark, it instead consistently evokes a sense of parody. Imagine the "You think I'm funny?" scene in Goodfellas and stretch it out for one hundred minutes and that just about sums the picture up.
The issue arises when the film wants to explore any means of depth or emotive instigation. The weight of the narrative - and thus the emotional complexity or morality - is not to be found; the film lacks exploration of who the characters are, their respective backgrounds and livelihoods drastically cut short. It all comes down to the screenplay from writer-director Andrea Berloff, which fails to entirely craft or arc the characters involved. All the genre conventions are present but with such a strong and ultimately weak focus on aesthetic: contemporary music is constantly included every five minutes and harsh green screen backgrounds results in plastic world-building.
The characters are the ones to suffer enormously along with their performances. Haddish and McCarthy, as Ruby O'Carroll and Kathy Brennan, in two more dramatic performances compared to their usual output of comedies are left with two characters devoid of interest and personality. Haddish has nothing to do throughout and the material given to the actress is nonexistent. When Haddish's character is involved or is featured in a sequence that demands authority - of which is plentiful - it fails due to character significantly lacking in engagement or connection because the material does not have a sense of flavour or intriguing characteristics. Even worse is the fact that the film toys with the idea to explore racial tensions and black identity but drops the idea without a shred of interest.
McCarthy suffers from the same problem: a character with sizable screen presence but poor depth which is hardly pressed upon nor explored to a reasonable degree. Her dynamic with her father and husband are two vital components but are put aside in the easiest and wholly inconsequential of manners to focus on placid violence. McCarthy's character is prime to discuss gender politics and for a whole thirty-five seconds the film touches upon what could be the most influential element on screen, but once again reforms from any such discourse. McCarthy's emotional range is substantial, and she is slowly showcasing her variable talent as an actress in more dramatic work. Unfortunately, The Kitchen ultimately does her a disservice, along with Haddish, by setting the two actresses up to fail with poor material and difficult material for the actresses to evolve.
Thankfully, the film has a strong standout performance from Elizabeth Moss - the only character to have any form of arc or depth, both which result in a character that is on a trajectory that builds and has an engagement with the audience. The viewer feels the pain, the misery, and the morality as well as the roughness of where Moss' character begins and ends. However, first and foremost, it is no doubt down to the talent of Moss that crafts such a brilliant turn as Claire Walsh, and not the writing present. Moss partnered with the chaotic brilliance of Domhnall Gleeson, in a Bonnie and Clyde dynamic, lifts this picture from the ordinary, but contextual narrative decisions limit the interaction. Before long, the viewer is back on the basic conventional track of a feature with disappointing promise.
The Kitchen is released September 20, 2019.
