The first thing that strikes me is how beautiful the film looks - the cinematography, particularly in Scotland, is very evocative. I have a predilection for a certain type of photography that captures desolate urban landscapes with that kind of ruined, decayed beauty. Bitter Taste conjures many such images that sear themselves in the mind, like the factory reflected in a shimmering puddle or the small fire burning in front of a tower block. These are the transcendental moments that elevate the film.
Casting-wise, excellent again, everything felt authentic. The real-life chef Alexis Trolf is utterly convincing as the main character Chef Fraser, and should perhaps consider a career change such is his lived-in intensity. The headwaiter is another highlight: the scene with the diners is excruciating for all the right reasons.
The film leaves me with an overwhelming feeling of sadness. I read it as the story of a little boy lost, a man who's deeply alone and craves love. The appreciation/adulation Fraser gets from his life in the kitchen doesn't sustain him and never will. It's like he's imprisoned by a conflicted longing, nostalgia for a traumatic event that's inextricably tied with the warm, unconditional love of his mother. Did she die? Has he become a neglectful son with all the demands on his time? It's a nostalgia that doesn't offer any particular insights or solutions for the future, as though the film is serving up a warning about the dangers of being too locked in the past. Perhaps I've been conditioned by more mainstream films, but I expected Fraser to have a moment of clarity or renewed purpose. That moment never arrives, and I was left wondering where he'll go from here. My suspicion is that he'll be forever locked in an unfulfilled existence.
The film raises other fascinating questions: just how did this boy from an estate in Scotland find within himself the fortitude, skill and sheer hard work to make it as a top chef overseas? The final shot of him as a boy, inert and miserable on the sofa, is tantalising in that regard: is that sly look at the apples on the table the first stirrings of a new interest? Did the injury to his mouth alter his relationship with food and physically impact the mechanics of eating? Or are his scars purely psychological? Lots to ponder in this melancholy and richly atmospheric film.
Casting-wise, excellent again, everything felt authentic. The real-life chef Alexis Trolf is utterly convincing as the main character Chef Fraser, and should perhaps consider a career change such is his lived-in intensity. The headwaiter is another highlight: the scene with the diners is excruciating for all the right reasons.
The film leaves me with an overwhelming feeling of sadness. I read it as the story of a little boy lost, a man who's deeply alone and craves love. The appreciation/adulation Fraser gets from his life in the kitchen doesn't sustain him and never will. It's like he's imprisoned by a conflicted longing, nostalgia for a traumatic event that's inextricably tied with the warm, unconditional love of his mother. Did she die? Has he become a neglectful son with all the demands on his time? It's a nostalgia that doesn't offer any particular insights or solutions for the future, as though the film is serving up a warning about the dangers of being too locked in the past. Perhaps I've been conditioned by more mainstream films, but I expected Fraser to have a moment of clarity or renewed purpose. That moment never arrives, and I was left wondering where he'll go from here. My suspicion is that he'll be forever locked in an unfulfilled existence.
The film raises other fascinating questions: just how did this boy from an estate in Scotland find within himself the fortitude, skill and sheer hard work to make it as a top chef overseas? The final shot of him as a boy, inert and miserable on the sofa, is tantalising in that regard: is that sly look at the apples on the table the first stirrings of a new interest? Did the injury to his mouth alter his relationship with food and physically impact the mechanics of eating? Or are his scars purely psychological? Lots to ponder in this melancholy and richly atmospheric film.