HUMMUS! THE MOVIE

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More character and social study than the historically relevant document you might hope for, “Hummus! The Movie” comes up short. It doesn’t help that a stark omission of necessary subtitles will prevent English speaking audiences from understanding a significant portion of the documentary. A lack of chyrons places further distance from the viewer.

We’re introduced to several Middle East restaurateurs who feature hummus on their menu to the delight of crowds willing to wait on line for culinary delights. We learn that Christian monks in Abu Gosh, Jerusalem are big fans of hummus.  

A tale of rival hummus shops fails to deliver a punch line. Still, the film wins points by introducing us to one hilarious individual in the guise of a man who is a teacher, mentor, hip-hop singer, DJ, rabbi, and grand master of an untitled martial arts system. This dude is a stone-cold trip. Here is one fascinating character who deserves a documentary more than hummus does, in the context of this picture anyway.  

Glaringly, the filmmakers don’t engage audience taste buds accustomed to watching Top Chef Masters. We need to hear a chef wax poetic about the fresh lemon brightness, and bite of parsley, to begin to imagine what makes this food such an ideal canvas for other flavors to harmonize.

I love hummus; I eat it all the time. Sadly this movie doesn’t move me to understand or enjoy hummus any more than I already do. That’s not to say that this movie was obligated to do such a thing, but it didn’t hold my interest enough to not consider such details. Here is a perfunctory documentary that doesn’t inspire its audience on any level. What a waste.  

STEP UP TO THE PLATE

   Groupthink doesn't live here, critical thought does.

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Amongst the burgeoning genre of personality infused foodie-porn documentaries — reference “El Bulli: Cooking in Progress” and “Jiro Dreams of Sushi” — Paul Lacoste’s dry observation of a generational restaurant baton-pass is too limited in scope to whet appetites.

The Bras family’s three-Michelin-star restaurant “Michel Bras” is located in Laguiole, France. There, the family has built a thriving cottage industry that’s more the size of a large factory.

The palatial restaurant, complete with floor-to-ceiling windows, is something straight out of a Frank Lloyd Wright-inspired design. It sits high atop a hill that overlooks the area’s peaceful Aubrac region with a 360-degree view. The time has come for the restaurant’s patriarch chef Michel to retire, and pass down head chef duties to his pensive son Sebastien.

The film opens with Michel Bras’s hand-laid construction of the most amazing single-plate salad you’ve ever seen. Each sparsely added ingredient elevates the dish and tantalizes the eye and taste buds. The documentary never again reaches such a dynamic height.

As Sebastien spends the film’s length brooding over constructing a signature dish that features milk skim as a primary ingredient, the audience is left to ponder just how much of Sebastien’s fretting is for show. He seems too much of a reflective poseur incapable of going up against the likes of an accomplished chef — such as Jonathan Waxman for example. Archive home movies and family photos give a background into the family’s rags-to-riches story, but the filmmaker leaves out glaring aspects such as what ever happened to Sebastien’s barely glimpsed brother.

Arranged over an annual change of seasons, “Step Up to the Plate” lacks the sense of editorial vision contained in “El Bulli: Cooking In Progress.” It also lacks the charisma of personality expressed in “Jiro Dreams of Sushi.” The audience comes away from the movie none the wiser about the gastronomical gifts of the Bras family, who seem almost “Stepford” in their insular world of private luxury.

Not Rated. 88 mins.