Full disclosure: I’m a sucker for a well-crafted foodie movie.
Particularly one that involves desserts.
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| Having decided to put their new pastry chef to the test, Mimi (Celia Imrie, left), Clarissa (Shannon Tarbet, center) and Isabella (Shelley Conn) marvel at the chocolate masterpiece he has prepared. |
Here in the States, these ingredients probably would generate a puerile melodrama on the Hallmark or Lifetime channel. Happily, Schroeder and her cast are much better than that; the narrative may be conventional, but the execution is charming.
The story begins on a happy note that quickly turns tragic. Longtime best friends Sarah (Candice Brown) and Isabella (Shelly Conn) are poised to open their own bakery shop. Bicycling across London with the keys to the empty storefront where Isabella eagerly awaits, Sarah is killed in a traffic accident.
The world … stops.
Except that it doesn’t; it never does.
Isabella, stuck with a business space she no longer wants anything to do with, despairs over trying to break the lease. Sarah’s 19-year-old daughter, Clarissa (Shannon Tarbet), numbly continues her dance training, all passion drained from her efforts. To make matters even worse, she’s dumped by her callous jerk of a boyfriend, leaving her nowhere to live.
In desperation, Clarissa turns to her estranged grandmother, Mimi (Celia Imrie), who — also grieving — welcomes the company.
Not long thereafter, having had time to process the situation, Clarissa realizes that they need a pathway out of their heartache. She confronts Mimi and Isabella, insisting that they must continue with the bakery plans. “It’s what Sarah would have wanted,” she implores.
But Sarah was to be the baker, Isabella protests. Fine, Clarissa replies, so we’ll hire a pastry chef.
Enter Matthew (Rupert Penry-Jones), who — wouldn’t you know it? — has “history” with Isabella, and she’s less than wild about this reunion. (The details of this earlier liaison remain undisclosed, which is no matter; it’s not something we need to know.)
Mimi, meanwhile — reasonably well off — sighs good-naturedly as she signs an ongoing series of checks.
All four display a heartwarming degree of hope and excitement as the shop comes together; watching Matthew whip up a series of mouth-watering confections also is a treat. But — as any small business owner can attest — creating the space is the easy part; getting people to enter on opening day, and thereafter, is another matter entirely. And Mimi’s bank account isn’t bottomless.
The eventual solution to that problem is the sweetest touch in this story.
Imrie excels here, as she always does; she conveys more in a pensive gaze, than in paragraphs of dialogue. Her forlorn and wistful expression early on, when Clarissa arrives unexpectedly, speaks volumes: guilt and regret over years of missed opportunities, cautious hope that perhaps — with her granddaughter — it’s not too late.
Tarbet’s Clarissa radiates the bubbly effervescence of youth: all a-flutter with eagerness and the naïve belief that any problem or setback can be overcome. However unrealistic this attitude is, she nonetheless serves as the catalyst that maintains everybody’s momentum. Tarbet persuasively conveys such enthusiastic conviction.
Conn’s Isabella, in contrast, is The Practical One: not quite a pessimist, but more wary and worried than the others. Although the shop is a completely collaborative effort, Isabella nonetheless feels like the one in charge; Conn radiates intelligence, efficiency and common sense.
Penry-Jones, a familiar face to fans of British TV shows such as MI-5 and Whitechapel, makes Matthew a bit ambiguous. He’s clearly a talented pastry chef, but his charm seems superficial, and he exudes a bit of smarm. He’s not the total bounder that he played in TV’s Silk, but Isabella’s wariness seems well-placed.
Conn and Penry-Jones play well off each other, as Isabella and Matthew puzzle out their respective roles together, this second time around.
The always entertaining Bill Paterson pops up as Felix, who lives across the street from the shop, and wonders why anybody would be daft enough to open a bakery when four others are within a five-minute walk. He’s clearly present as a potential romantic element for Mimi, but the role is oddly under-written; Paterson isn’t able to do much with it, beyond displaying his usual charm.
The fact that Felix is an inventor seems a superficial detail; it never amounts to anything.
Anna Papa’s production design is solid; the bakery shop is adorable, and Mimi’s tastefully appointed home has the precision that would result from somebody who has re-channeled the effort that should have gone into family relationships. Enis Rotthoff’s lyrical score adds to the film’s mellow atmosphere.
When the recipe is prepared this nicely, the result can’t help being tasty.
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