There’s not a lot of subtlety to be found in director Fernando Grostein Andrade’s newest film, “Abe,” but that’s okay. Although it lives in the shadows of a few great ideas and macro concepts, the movie only scratches the surface of its themes, toying at a couple of larger truths in a way that confronts them without solving anything…but really, that’s okay. The story of a young boy that must manage the nuances of a multi-generational Israeli-Palestinian conflict at the tender age of 12 by way of a Brooklyn kitchen, “Abe” takes a big bite, chewing only the most important pieces.
“Abe” opens with its eponymous main character (Noah Schnapp) speaking to his Instagram followers (and the audience) about his pre-teen existence. A budding foodie who can’t wait to get to work in a kitchen one day, Abe devours not just food but any media and literature related to the culinary arts. The marriage of Abe’s parents merged Israeli and Palestinian households, yet Abe’s attempts to find some common ground between his more devout elders have largely fallen flat.
Although Abe’s parents try to encourage his cooking interests, this only leads them to enroll their son into a painfully remedial baking class from which Abe promptly escapes. It’s not just the class, though: Abe has problems connecting with people, saying things like, “Cooking is way better than talking to offline human beings.” He has a breakthrough when he meets Chico (Seu Jorge), a Brazilian chef whose experiments with fusion fascinate the young man.
Abe asks Chico to mentor him and show him the ropes, which the very busy chef initially refuses, reluctant for many reasons, not the least of which is the fact that this kid is wandering around New York City without an adult. Abe’s persistence, passion, and willingness to do any task in the kitchen eventually wears Chico down, and over time, Abe learns some of the basics of a world he’s only dreamed about.
It’s a pretty simple set-up and is juxtaposed against a side-plot regarding Abe’s mildly troubled home life. A white, middle-class kid with loving parents and grandparents, Abe is nevertheless in the middle of a perpetual tug-of-war between multi-generational Middle Eastern clashes. The idea of fusion is a running theme throughout “Abe,” both in the kitchen and at home, and it’s the latter that takes precedence in the film’s second half. One of the young chef’s first attempts at fusion results in a ramen taco, which Chico won’t even deign to eat, saying, “You are mixing fusion with confusion. You made something bold. Next time, make something good to eat.” It’s the first introduction to the idea that Abe has enthusiasm, but not guidance and experience, and he learns that he’ll need plenty of both to navigate the two streams of his life (home and the kitchen).
These moments in the kitchen elevate the picture and add texture to not just the lead, but to Chico as well. These are the best parts of the film, and represent an earnest take on a very real experience that informs not just the narrative but the thematic soul of “Abe.” The young chef’s early work washing dishes and taking out trash earns him the right to chop vegetables, and later, to actually start cooking, allowing for incremental progress that plays well on the screen.
Andrade, who co-wrote the script, does a great job connecting these thematic support struts between both narratives, and Schnapp ably handles the load in the lead. The young actor’s wide-eyed innocence and vulnerability have played well for him in his “Stranger Things” breakout role, and he puts that same earnestness to good use here. Seu Jorge does equally good work as the outwardly gruff yet inwardly tender mentor, who sees a spark in his young protégé and is doubly determined to be tough on the kid as a result.
It’s a great marriage of writing and acting, for this kind of role could easily go big, like “Whiplash” meets Gordan Ramsay, yet “Abe” and Seu Jeorge don’t fall into this trap. Most chefs are too exhausted to put on a big dramatic show, and the way Chico interacts with Abe, with a mixture of fascination and fatigue, feels genuine. It’s more authentic than the parents/grandparents of the B-plot, anyway, which sometimes feel like they were pulled out of a late-series “Picket Fences” episode.
But really, that’s okay. “Abe” is a coming of age movie with a unique if somewhat heavy-handed slant, concerned as it is with culinary and cultural fusion. The young Abe learns how to navigate two different worlds using a single set of lessons, and as they concern the kitchen, they are thoughtfully presented and realistically portrayed. The film isn’t groundbreaking, just pleasant and enjoyable, but really, that’s okay. [B]