NO RESERVATIONS (2007) Kate Armstrong (Catherine Zeta-Jones) is a highly talented and highly strung chef in a suspiciously spotless and polite upmarket kitchen in New York. She’s maintaining an uneasy equilibrium – which includes berating unappreciative customers and using food talk to deflect from any insights that might crop up during the therapy her boss makes her attend – when tragedy strikes. Reeling from the death of her sister and forced to take charge of her niece, Zoe (Abigail Breslin), Kate faces further complications when big-hearted, opera-loving rising star Nick (Aaron Eckhart) is hired in her kitchen.

Could Zoe and Nick be just what Kate needs? Do the characters all live in impossibly sprawling New York lofts regardless of their financial situations? Are there montages of the characters bonding over pancakes and pillow fights and photobooths? Do they watch home movies that seem to consist entirely of shaky footage of a beautiful dead woman? No Reservations attempts a little more depth and melancholy than many of its ilk, but still makes a point of ticking as many comfort food romcom boxes as it can.

RATATOUILLE (2007) This Pixar animation follows the adventures of Remy (Patton Oswalt), a rat whose discerning palate makes him a misfit in his trash-scoffing family. Separated from his colony after attempting one too many raids of the spice rack in the house they occupy, Remy finds himself in Paris, under the restaurant previously run by his late hero Auguste Gusteau. Through various plot twists he ends up “piloting” Gusteau’s illegitimate son, floppy ne’er-do-well Alfredo (Lou Romano), and together the pair create superb food neither could make individually. All the while they evade the suspicions of new head chef (Ian Holm) and the restaurant hurtles towards a make-or-break assessment from influential food critic Anton Ego (Peter O’Toole).

From the colours that pop and spit, bright as fireworks, when Remy tries strawberries and cheese for the first time to Ego’s vivid ratatouille-induced flashback, every frame of this generous, joyful film fizzes with life like champagne filling a glass.

JIRO DREAMS OF SUSHI (2011) What does it mean to be the best at something? What does it cost you? What does it cost the people you love? These are the questions posed throughout David Gelb’s quiet, affecting documentary about Jiro Ono, the then-85-year-old sushi master who had managed the unprecedented feat of earning three Michelin stars (the highest designation possible) for a sushi bar that seats 10 people, located in a Tokyo subway.

Jiro has dedicated near enough every waking hour (and, as the title suggests, many non-waking hours) to sushi, to honing the craft behind every element of his minimalist cuisine, until its presentation is immaculate and its flavours so deep and nuanced they baffle the world’s greatest chefs. By extension this is the life he has given his sons – and quietly nagging away at the film is the question of what they might have been had they pursued their own definition of greatness, rather than inheriting someone else’s.

BIG NIGHT (1996) Big Night is built around the last-ditch attempt to revive the fortunes of a struggling restaurant run by Italian immigrant brothers – brilliant, uncompromising chef Primo (Tony Shalhoub) and the more charming, ambitious Secondo (Stanley Tucci) – in 1950s New Jersey. While Secondo looks longingly at the success of their nearby rival Pascal (Ian Holm) who serves mediocre “Italian” food, stripped of all regional character and nuance, Primo refuses to budge on a scintilla of the quality and time his subtle and complex dishes demand. When Secondo asks for a loan, Pascal offers instead to organise a profile-boosting visit from Italian-American pop sensation Louis Prima, which sets up the sumptuous evening of the title. Between this set-up and the conclusion is a perfectly judged and a deeply human story filled with superb supporting turns – particularly from Minnie Driver, Isabella Rossellini and Allison Janney – as well as one of the great culinary achievements in cinema: the Timpano, a baked pasta dish which prompts gasps from its audience both in the film and watching it.  

Big Night is about many things – the immigrant journey, success versus integrity as a source of fulfilment, what we owe one another and what we do with the pain when, inevitably, deficits are accrued that no one can pay. But above all it is about food; food as art, as a point of connection, as a way to express that for which you can never find the words.

THE MENU (2022) The chilly, blackly comic horror of The Menu features Tyler (Nicholas Hoult) and his date Margot (Anya Taylor-Joy) who form part of a group – including a food critic, finance bros and a fading movie star – “enjoying” an evening on the private island restaurant of celebrity chef Justin Slowik (Ralph Fiennes). Darkness, in every sense, swiftly descends, as it becomes clear that Slowik has gathered them to take revenge for their roles in robbing him of his joy in his work.

It’s a very 2020s sort of a horror film, animated by class consciousness and social justice concerns in its focus on the darkness curdling just behind the calculated presentations of food, consumption and lifestyle that clot the modern world. 

BOILING POINT (2021) We don’t need long with Andy (Stephen Graham) to know things aren’t going well. He’s neglecting his family, his debts are mounting, his slipping control over his kitchen have cost his restaurant two stars from its health and safety rating, he takes regular swigs from a water bottle that doesn’t appear to contain water – and that’s before things really start to wobble.

Taking place in real time over 96 minutes and captured in a single bravura shot, Boiling Point follows Andy’s growing desperation as he tries to keep it together over an increasingly claustrophobic and chaotic night. Taut as a drum skin, Boiling Point crams a remarkable amount of detail and human frailty into its runtime thanks largely to its immaculate choreography and a breathless single-take performance from a brilliant cast.

These movies come straight from the pages of issue 120. To get your mitts on a copy, swing past the frankie shop, subscribe or visit one of our lovely stockists.