Review of the film “Cochin” and summary of the film (2024)

Nearly every scene of the powerful “La Cocina” takes place in or near the kitchen of a Times Square tourist trap explicitly called “The Grill.” This is one of those places that has a little bit of everything, but nothing good. When the orders start coming in, it’s reminiscent of Italian cuisine, with lots of margherita pizza and chicken marsala tickets. It’s also one of those places with a huge staff that goes virtually unnoticed by customers who want a little of the hustle and bustle that the heart of Manhattan promises, probably before a Broadway show. The hundreds of people who come and go throughout the day barely stop to think about the stress, activity and personal lives of the men and women who prepare their food.

Although “kitchen drama” has become a popular genre in recent times, this has contributed in no small part to the success of “Kitchen drama” has become a popular genre in recent times.Bear“, “La Cocina” has a different energy. He realizes that the food coming out of the back of The Grill goes through a deeply broken system that shreds and throws people out without even a second thought before anyone else has learned to make yet another chicken marsala.

While most kitchen movies and shows of late feature what might be called the “noble chef,” one who must hold his head high as the art of cooking is increasingly devalued by fast food culture, La Cocina has a completely different picture. push. The kitchen here is a war zone, which writer-director Alonso Ruizpalacios and his team sometimes literally film as a cacophony of noise and activity. As the camera pans around the incredibly crowded kitchen to capture various snippets of action and conversation, it all feels surprisingly tedious. It is a job and a place where people are not meant to thrive, but simply to survive.

Ruizpalacios throws a classic newcomer into this culinary battle for the first time in the form of Estela (Anna Diaz), a young woman who comes from Mexico in search of work. She steals someone else’s interview to get the job and is forced to hit the ground running. But La Cocina is not really Estela’s story. She’s an interesting figure in that the camera often pans towards her and she looks increasingly weary – in that sense she serves as an audience surrogate, someone thrown into chaos just like us.

The real heart of La Cocina is the chef named Pedro (the wonderful Raul Briones), a charismatic survivor, a man who can tell you about the history of lobster as haute cuisine and he has enough watches under his apron to butt heads with his superiors. He deserved it. He is the general of this detachment, but it seems that he is always one step away from disaster. Ruizpalacios hints at the impending collapse in Pedro’s life, including mention of a fight the night before, an investigation into stolen money from last night’s cash register, and a tumultuous relationship with his girlfriend Julia (Rooney Mara, excellent as always), a grill waitress who is now pregnant and considering an abortion. While “La Cocina” slides back and forth, introducing us to other characters, Pedro and Julia remain at the center, the main dish around which the rest of the menu is built.

“La Cocina” is a phenomenal spectacle for Briones, who gives one of the most mesmerizing and multifaceted performances of the year. It’s clear that Pedro is tired of the nonsense of life in a New York kitchen, but he is exciting to be around. He is the clear leader in a situation where the men and women he leads are fired or deported every few days. Briones almost always portrays the uncredited Pedro as a man in a state of mild panic, but he does so with a high degree of old-fashioned movie star magnetism. Ruizpalacios and his cinematographer Juan Pablo Ramirez know that Briones is their most valuable asset, so they often train their fluid camera on his remarkable face.

When they move the camera again, “La Cocina” becomes an exploration of how to create a visual language in a relatively confined space. It’s loosely based on the play, and I think the setting alone makes that clear, but it’s also a deeply cinematic film, from the choice of black and white to the many camera tricks used to heighten the tension through controlled chaos. With people flying back and forth during their lunch break, the film seems almost out of control, but of course it’s all very carefully choreographed.

The final scene of “La Cocina” is one of the few times I felt like the film had some strings being pulled. It’s a stunning monologue, beautifully delivered by Briones, but it feels a little showy since life in New York City kitchens doesn’t usually come to a head in the build-up to a film. However, this film isn’t always grounded in pure realism – all the aforementioned camera tricks are meant to remind you that you’re watching a film. Someone who sees everyday pain and, yes, glimpses of everyday beauty in an ordinary New York kitchen. When you think about many places like The Grill in and around Times Square, it can be almost overwhelming. Pedro, Julia, Estela and the other workers may not be that special after all. There is a film about them.