Even the casual visitor to these pages will have noticed that I often start my reviews with an admission, framing the review with the caveat that I'm a Brit that's spent the past 14 years in San Francisco, or that I hate fish, or have a passion for Joy Division, and such stuff that may appear irrelevant, but to me necessary in order to show that there's usually a deep-rooted influence (or bias) to my opinions.
Today's admission is that I like Helena Bonham Carter. Really like her. In fact, I'm often reminded by Mrs. Page that I once revealed I even liked HBC when she was made up as a chimp in Planet of the Apes. That's hard core liking, in anybody's book.
With that said, Toast is a fabulous film. It's a true story based on the early life of Nigel Slater, who eventually became a renowned chef, writer, and TV food presenter in England.
The first half of the film started with Slater as a 9-year old living in Wolverhampton with his overbearing father and sickly mother. She was a hopeless cook, eschewing fresh meat and vegetables for anything in a can, and more often than not resorting to toast when other culinary efforts failed.
She suffered from and - this is not much of a spoiler, since it's telegraphed from the start - eventually dies from asthma. Enter Mrs. Potter (the still looking delectable at 45, Helena Bonham Carter), who starts out as their maid, and through excellent chef-ery and a penchant for real stockings and garter belts, winds up as Nigel's stepmother. Meanwhile, Nigel works on his own cookery skills, and he and Mrs. Potter compete heavily for his father's attention with their respective cooking.
Things don't end well for father and stepmother, and Slater Jr winds up in London as a trainee in the kitchens at The Savoy.
I had a smile on my face throughout the movie, and it was only partly due to HBC's stockings and garter belts.
Only partly.
A great film, and heaven knows how you'll get to see it, as the lean British Film festival (with a small f) is almost done here.
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