Why, yes, my forehead is three times the size of my jaw. Does this … bother you?
Broil (2020) tries to dance the tightrope of story information: not enough? Too much?
Not enough, too often.
The Sinclair family is physically superior to the ordinary run of humanity, and immensely wealthy, controlling an entire industry, and its thirst for more, both in the world and in the family, is unslaked: power, control … blood. Patriarch August Sinclair is the king on his throne, hated for his ways, loved for his power, and his lust for the game of power is unreserved. His and his family’s aura is an ancient power that reaches far, far back in time. The Sinclairs are unstoppable.
And it’s time to celebrate, for it’s harvest time, and a special celebration is to be served up, because Chance and Luck, the young daughters of dissatisfied June and December, may be welcomed into the secrets of the family. August has heard of someone, called the Chef, who seems to be a power unto himself. A mere pizza cook who knows all combinations of flavors, he’s a little shocked at being recruited into the Sinclair kitchen.
And a lot more when handed poison and asked to use it on August.
Is he willing to take the risks involved in taking out his employer, when the employer is nearly invincible? What is this refuge Chance finds, and who’s already there? Why is Chef, at the end of his days, counting down from ten?
And just who granted Chef an extension?
That last question links to the lack of information mentioned earlier. This isn’t a twisted murder mystery, because there’s absolutely no way to guess the occult powers behind the maneuvering, much less their motivations. For the audience, this is less a mystery and more throwing audio and visual bombs at the audience for them to absorb, between puzzling interludes that make little sense, except in the aftermath.
Combine this flaw with the mistake of pulling metaphorical rabbits out of hats each time a plot hole needs plugging, and the story becomes a little less enchanting, and it’s too bad. The early puzzlement and anticipation was quite delicious, as was the impatience of Chance with August’s ancient sensibilities, but when it turns out there’s no perfectly reasonable explanation, within the parameters established early in the story, for later developments, then it becomes a bit disappointing: the audience doesn’t get to feel either clever at their insight, or overwhelmed with the storytellers’ moxie, but rather simply overrun with unstructured magic.
Close your eyes and don’t see the hole in the keel.
All that said, it is a fun ride, and if you can ignore the storytelling mistakes, or even if you can’t, you may enjoy this one. It can be an enjoyable challenge.
But don’t mess with August, unless you have some truly impressive backing.
