Respond to these rapid questions in our The Kitchen quiz and we will tell you which The Kitchen character you are. Play it now.
In some cases, you want a movie to give you the freedom to think whatever you want about the characters, or to go back and forth on your feelings about their actions, because the process of figuring it all out is what makes the experience memorable. It’s a shame, because “The Kitchen” is a unique story (based on a comic by Ollie Masters and Ming Doyle) that’s built around three strong actresses, rather than a market-tested, male-driven property that’s been halfheartedly tinkered with in order to create a “female version.”
This star vehicle for Elisabeth Moss, Melissa McCarthy, and Tiffany Haddish is a down-and-dirty 1970s street-level crime drama about a trio of gangsters’ significant others who take over for their men (Brian d’Arcy James, Kevin O’Carroll, and Jeremy Bobb) after they’ve been sentenced to prison, and who quickly prove that they have a knack for the job. This is exciting because female stars are consistently more constrained than male stars by distributors’ knee-jerk belief that no one wants to see a project in which the leading ladies are less than completely sympathetic throughout the course of the film. Because these women are willing to take advantage of neighborhood businesses, deal with organized crime, and subcontract horrendous acts, such as dismembering a murder victim in a bathtub, in order to maintain or expand their power, this isn’t even a consideration. In his role as the psycho to whom the women subcontract evil, Domhnall Gleeson is brilliant, transforming himself into a poisonous lizard in human form.
There is no popular American genre that is more morally challenging than the gangster film genre. This film induces giddy whiplash as it moves through the attraction-repulsion cycle, getting viewers pumped up on power fantasies, adrenaline, and the rush of taboo fantasy, only to leave them appalled with themselves when the characters cross a line and remind us of how cold, even monstrous they can be, and that we, too, become monstrous when we root for them. The characters are cold, even monstrous, and we become monstrous when we root for them. There’s no better group of actresses for the job than this one, because they’re all looking to push themselves and their audiences outside of their comfort zones. Even though McCarthy and Haddish are still mostly stereotyped as comedic leads (though McCarthy briefly escaped that trap with “Can You Ever Forgive Me? “), they both have gravitas and a jagged edge to their performances. Even after seven seasons as Peggy Olson on “Mad Men,” a drama that was funnier than most sitcoms, Moss’ gift for dark comedy is underappreciated; her work in films such as “Us” and “Her Smell,” which are as horrifying as they are engaging, demonstrate that she is up for anything she puts her mind to.
But you shouldn’t waste any more time and start this The Kitchen quiz.
Unfortunately, writer/director Andrea Berloff (“World Trade Center”) goes to great lengths to convince us that these women are not only justified in the majority of their actions, but are also courageous trailblazers who defy traditional gender roles. This novel is set in pre-gentrified Upper West Side of New York City, which is now a bland antiwonderland of chain drugstores, banks, and trendy restaurants. However, the neighborhood was once home to working-class Irish-Americans who were ruled by the Westies, an Irish gang with connections to the Italian mob (incarnated here by the great character actor Bill Camp).
The Kitchen Quiz
We’re told over and over that McCarthy’s Kathy, Haddish’s Ruby, and Moss’ Claire are more guilty of being sinned against than they are of sinning themselves. While that appears to be accurate in its broad strokes—in-laws Ruby’s are racist thugs, Kathy is suffocating in a dutiful but ineffective wife role, Claire is violently abused, and Little Jackie (Myk Watford), the associate who initially serves as a kind of stop-gap boss, is a blatantly sexist slimebag who shorts the women’s take—there comes a point when the film and the “The Kitchen” never musters the courage to go there, and it lacks the provocative nonchalant shrug that exploitation films about poor white and black women turning to crime in the 1970s were known for.
Also, you will find out which character are you in this The Kitchen quiz.
In particular, violent crime films that go out of their way to make it clear to the audience that their protagonists are safe to root for have a depressing quality to them. The situation reminds me of those cliched, “eat your cake and eat it too” moments at the end of Hollywood action films, where the hero refuses to seek revenge against the villain who murdered his family, and the villain refuses to accept their benevolence, pulls a knife or a gun, and ends up falling to their death or being impaled on a conveniently placed wrought-iron fence or boat anchor. Out of the Furnace and Gotti, two recent films, are examples of how this craven attitude is destroying the genre that these filmmakers purport to be passionate about. The only thing you should be concerned about is making an accurate representation of gangsters. When women are allowed to carry a crime drama by being so charismatic that viewers would consider following them into hell rather than giving up the high they get from watching them be bad, we will have achieved full antihero equality for all.
For more personality quizzes check this: If Beale Street Could Talk Quiz.
