Plodding pace hinders Kitchen
There's no questioning the good intentions behind Daniel Kaluuya and Kibwe Tavares' The Kitchen, a dystopian thriller suffused with social commentary. This examination of the ever-growing disparity between the haves and have-nots and how this gulf affects not simply society but an individual's outlook and behavior is a cautionary tale that, while on the mark, will never be heeded. However, there are times when it seems as though Kaluuya and Taveres tempt the viewer to become disinterested and switch to the latest Netflix comedy special. To call the film plodding is an understatement, as at times the pace the filmmakers adapt would make a snail seem brisk in comparison.
The time is 2040 and the place is London, a city that has become severely divided according to class. On the outskirts is The Kitchen, a hive-like community of high-rises whose residents have successfully repelled efforts for the local government to take it over. Seems they need this property for even more urban development. Izi (Kano) lives in one of the many, tiny rundown apartments the community consists of and longs to move to a posher residence in London proper. He works at Life After Life, a corporate-run funeral home where your loved ones' remains are cremated and transformed into a plant that stays in the facility. There you can visit, nurture and watch it grow. Benji's (Jedaiah Bannerman) mother has suddenly passed away and he's reluctant to go through this process, but has no choice. Attending the service of his old, intimate friend, Izi notices Benji and realizes he is the son he never knew.
While this seems like a cheap plot device on paper, the stratifications of the society and the way in which relationships are fractured by it make it plausible. Izi is torn by this discovery. Soon to move to the much-desired Buena Vida community, he's reticent to take Benji in as that will force him to forfeit the tiny apartment he's been allotted. Then there's the matter of trying to build a relationship with a boy who resents him but clearly longs for his recognition.
This dynamic is compelling, yet explored in such a deliberate, slow manner it ultimately robs it of its power. The film does come to life when the directors focus on the community. A true sense of unity exists between the citizens of The Kitchen, a common enemy binding them, a feeling of communal compassion suffusing this warren of shops and homes. The film is at its best during moments in which a meal is being shared among them or a celebration is occurring. It is this sense of optimism that keeps the viewer hooked though the film ultimately offers no answers to the questions it poses, which is as it should be. The purpose of movies like "The Kitchen" is to prompt discussion and this conversation is way overdue. Streaming on Netflix.
Beekeeper lacks sting
I'm sure I'll see more ridiculous movies than David Ayer's The Beekeeper before 2024 ends. However, right now it's the frontrunner for the most preposterous reality-based movie of the year. Now I know what you're saying – "Chuck, it's a Jason Statham movie! Were you expecting some sort of intricately plotted, surprise-laden story?" Obviously not. I was expecting some reasonably well-executed action scenes, a memorable quip or two and maybe a charismatic sidekick to crack wise throughout. Unfortunately, I got none of that as The Beekeeper is one of Ayer's lazier efforts, an uninspired B-movie that is the very definition of "time-waster," a film in which Statham's stoic demeanor isn't read as implacably cool, but rather as weary and bored.
I'll give it one thing – the movie wastes little time putting things in motion. Within the first 10 minutes, we meet the mysterious Adam Clay (Statham), a jack-of-all-trades and, yes, beekeeper, as well as the kindly Eloise Parker (Phylicia Rashad), who he rents some property from. Doing some online bill-paying, she falls victim to a phishing scam and before you know it, all her bank accounts have been drained. In response to her sudden change in fortune, she puts a bullet through her own chest. Her daughter, Verona (Emmy Raver-Lampman), who just so happens to be an FBI agent, soon deduces what happens and shares the information with Clay, who tracks down the call center that contacted Parker and burns it to the ground. Seems he's one of those "special skills set" kind of guys.
Of course, this is just the tip of the iceberg and as Clay and Verona dig further, they uncover a corrupt international network that reaches all the way to – get this – the White House! Before all is said and done, the former director of the CIA (Jeremy Irons) is calling in favors to protect the Madame President (Jemma Redgrave) and mercenaries by the dozens are hired to stop Clay, while those in the highest reaches of our government are caught in the crossfire.
Again, I'm not expecting a labyrinthine plot or razor-sharp dialogue, but I do expect a tongue-in-cheek tone to be employed when a story as ludicrous and unimaginative as this is told. Had Ayer and Statham had just tipped their hand and let us know they were in on the joke, The Beekeeper may have been bearable, a "so-bad-it's-good" flick that manages to be entertaining despite itself. As it is, this is a run-of-the-mill feature that wallows in sadistic violence as it perpetuates its own kind of scam, stealing the money and wasting the time of Statham's ardent fans. In theaters.
