Burnt

Although its menu looks appetizing enough, Burnt has plenty of spice but lacks sufficient flavor.

This drama about a world-renowned chef seeking redemption in his personal life features a fiery performance by Bradley Cooper compromised by a predictable script that doesn’t have the right mix of ingredients.

Cooper plays Adam, an international superstar chef who emerges after a self-imposed two-year hiatus to cure his addictions to drugs, alcohol, sex, and more. He’s determined to regain his reputation after burning bridges at restaurants from Paris to New York, and he craves a coveted third Michelin star in the process.

Domineering and vindictive, he goes to work for an upscale London restaurateur (Daniel Bruhl), then assembles a staff of assistants familiar with his temperament but drawn in by his talent and money. However, Adam soon realizes that climbing back on top requires him to change more than just his apron.

As foodie films go, Burnt might have an appropriate title for the wrong reasons. The efforts of director John Wells (August: Osage County) to frenetically capture the behind-the-scenes hustle and bustle in the restaurant do a disservice to the food itself. When there are so many delectable dishes on display, the camera needs to linger over them and savor them, rather than constantly cut away.

That might seem trivial, but it speaks to another issue involving the cooking talents of Adam and his colleagues. Sure, they create pretty plates of food, but the film becomes so insulated in its stuffy world of arrogant blowhards that we start to question whether his culinary mastery is genuine or perceived.

Prolific screenwriter Steven Knight (The Hundred-Foot Journey) certainly knows his way around a kitchen, and the film manages some memorable moments within its claustrophobic confines, especially Adam’s meltdown toward his staff after a disappointing opening night. A strong ensemble cast (including Omar Sy, Sienna Miller, Matthew Rhys and Emma Thompson) helps the cause.

Yet the film’s exploration of addiction recovery is muddled, and for all the energy spent turning Adam into a monster, the subsequent journey from crusty shell to gooey center lacks subtlety and conviction.

Cooper is capable of handling such a transformation with more depth than is warranted by a film that lacks sizzle and sticks too close to its bland recipe.

Rated R, 101 minutes.