I know what you’re thinking:
An entire feature film, focused solely on the creation of a snack food? Could this be anything but a 99-minute valentine to PepsiCo/Frito-Lay?
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| Judy (Annie Gonzalez), Richard (Jesse Garcia) and their elder son Lucky (Hunter Jones) watch suspensefully, as younger son Steven (Brice Gonzalez) carefully tastes the family's newest effort at an acceptably spicy Cheeto. |
Thanks to director Eva Longoria’s enthusiastic approach, Lewis Colick and Linda Yvette Chávez’s cheeky script, and an always endearing performance by star Jesse Garcia, this fast-paced, rags-to-riches saga is quite entertaining: an inspirational, modern-day Horatio Alger story come to life.
On the other hand, the film’s claim to be a “true story” — as the press notes insist —should be taken with a raised eyebrow.
To quote the oft-repeated phrase from John Ford’s The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence, “When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.” Longoria and her writers clearly embraced that notion (about which, we’ll chat more in a bit).
Richard Montañez (Garcia) narrates his life-story, in amiable conversational voice-over, from a current-day vantage point. One of a multitude of children born into a Mexican American enclave in Southern California’s unincorporated community of Guasti, he grows up surrounded by the East Los Angeles vineyards where his family and their friends toil in those fields.
He also confronts institutional racism at an early age (played here by Carlos S. Sanchez), both in grade school and elsewhere. He meets Judy (Jayde Martinez), who shares his heritage; they become “two against the world.”
Flash-forward several years. Richard (now Garcia) has joined local gang-bangers led by longtime best friend Tony (Bobby Soto). Although a life in and out of prison seems inevitable, Richard’s devotion to Judy (now played by Annie Gonzalez) — they soon have two young sons — and a compassionate judge grant one last chance.
Better still, Tony — who also has “gone straight,” with a menial job at Frito-Lay — puts in a good word. During Richard’s subsequent interview, floor manager Lonny Mason (Matt Walsh) — despite quickly spotting the young man’s fabricated résumé — reluctantly hires him as a general utility machine operator (i.e. janitor). Richard promises to show grit, determination and a never-quit, can-do spirit.
On top of which, he comes armed with the magical powers of authentic Mexican food.
The latter comes in handy when Richard seeks guidance from longtime production engineer Clarence C. Baker (Dennis Haysbert). This disgruntled company veteran initially is suspicious of the young man’s enthusiasm, having spent years training people who then were promoted over him … likely for similarly racist reasons.
Gonzalez’s Judy is a constant unwavering cheerleader: firmly in her husband’s corner, even when crisis erupts. Their “time out” ritual, during moments of extreme stress, is touching: “Deep breath … one … two … three … deep breath.” We get a persuasive sense of their ongoing financial hardships, which more than once prompt a reluctant return to Richard’s parents’ home.
Richard’s father Vacho (Emilio Rivera), long guilty of physical and emotional abuse, has a mid-film conversion to Christianity that doesn’t feel the slightest bit genuine; it’s simply a clumsy plot detail.
Back at Frito-Lay, Richard’s interactions with Clarence are sublime. Haysbert, his low-rumble voice put to excellent use, relies on his signature hard stares and slow takes. Much as Clarence might prefer otherwise, he finds it impossible to resist Richard’s eager desire to learn more about plant operations. It’s a slow trek, but the two soon become not merely friends, but colleagues.
Lonny also evolves, over time; his quick-to-judge condescension diminishes when even he can’t ignore Richard’s pluck.
Unfortunately, Richard’s eagerness to rise above his station bucks a long-established pecking order. As Tony explains, during one lunch hour, the plant is like high school; rank is determined and silently maintained by where people sit, while eating. Woe to any who violate that tradition. (I don’t doubt the authenticity of this detail).
Time passes — the years marked ingeniously — and then the Reagan-era recession hits, with its concurrent rise in unemployment. Worse yet, PepsiCo/Frito-Lay has been losing market share to soft drink and snack rivals; layoffs are inevitable, with an additional threat of closing this entire Rancho Cucamonga plant.
Recently installed CEO Roger Enrico (Tony Shalhoub), faced with dire choices, makes a company video intended to reassure the rank and file. It proves particularly inspirational to Richard, who — soon thereafter — stumbles onto what he believes is a genius plan to attract the rapidly rising Latino market, thus far ignored.
Shalhoub, as always, is delightful. At first almost unrecognized behind Enrico’s frown of misery, he soon sparkles with surprise and the quietly amused manner with which Enrico censures colleagues who fail to perform properly.
What subsequently takes place, in the Montañez home kitchen — involving Richard, Judy and their sons — has become the stuff of aforementioned legend. It’s a messy and chaotic sequence, full of trial and error, which hinges on the often subtle difference between “good hot” and “bad hot.”
The manner in which Richard’s narration occasionally “enhances” actual events also is quite funny. He initially depicts a key moment the way he believes it should have gone down, shaded with exaggerated Mexican machismo and dialect (emanating, hilariously, from stuffy boardroom types). Then, reluctantly, he amends the encounter to its more reasonable — read: lackluster — outcome.
A few details remain sloppy. Despite their financial stress, at critical junctures Richard and Judy easily are able to purchase all manner of things. Did money fall from the sky?
That aside, events build to a thrilling third act, via constant underdog perseverance; there’s no denying this film’s crowd-pleasing qualities.
Alas … actual events probably didn’t go down this way. A thorough May 2021 Los Angeles Times investigation disproves many of the details that have made Montañez a well-paid darling on the lecture circuit; his timeline is inconsistent, and too many irrefutable facts get in the way. Worse yet, Montañez has altered his saga, more than once, as increasingly uncomfortable evidence emerged.
Even so, a key aspect of his story is undeniable: Montañez definitely rose within Frito-Lay, from factory floor janitor to marketing executive. That’s huge. And — given the care with which Frito-Lay has worded its subsequent public statements — we can’t help wondering, to some degree, whether institutional racism did play a part in diminishing Montañez’s actual involvement with what became a billion-dollar brand.
Does this make Longoria’s film any less entertaining? Certainly not … but its honesty is debatable.
And all concerned were well aware of that, during production.
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