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| Edited By: Bryan Durham |Source: DNA |Updated: Nov 04, 2016, 03:45 PM IST
Film: Mr. Church
Director: Bruce Beresford
Cast: Eddie Murphy, Britt Robertson, Natasha McElhone
A fallout between former lovers — he a man of wealth, she a woman barely making ends meet — ensures that their daughter is cared for, by the cook, Mr. Henry Church (Murphy).
Our first introduction to Church is in the most comforting of places— the kitchen. Our first impression of him is that he smokes, loves jazz and can rustle up a mean meal out of a seemingly threadbare pantry. You quickly learn that the arrangement is for six months only, with Church's employer only providing him the means for that much (the reason is the doctors have said that the woman, Maria Brooks (McElhone), suffering from breast cancer, has only that long to live). She outlasts the 'deadline' by at least six years. Her daughter Charlotte (Robertson), while initially wary of her cook, comes to love and appreciate everything he does for them. And as years go by, she grows to love, though not fully comprehend who he is.
A sweet tale of love and loyalty in fickle times, Mr. Church reminds you that there is much goodness to be found in the service of those you come to love as family.
This might easily be one of Eddie Murphy's most overwhelmingly restrained performances in a very long time. The man is someone we've grown up with and loved over the years. Easily one of the most loved comedians of our time. And yet, here, you see none of the loud in-your-face-ness one has come to associate with his acting of late. Britt Robertson as Charlotte aka Charlie makes for a pleasant narrator — her initial disdain for 'that black man in our kitchen' to 'Mr. Church is this family's legacy' — coming full circle over the span of a couple of hours.
The ease with which the tale is told, the near absence of conflict, the beautiful jazz numbers played over the radio, the two subplots that don't digress from the main tale, the near-reverence to the little details that marked the eras the coming-of-age story is told— it all adds up to a wonderfully pleasant experience.
The limitations in the story material and the script are evident and in plain sight. Nobody goes through life without so much as a raised voice (this does come, but after years of Church caring for Brooks) or a raised hand (never). And even if such people exist, their stories seldom get told. The rose-tinted glasses, which we see these stories through (McElhone looks devastatingly beautiful even when she's at her sickest and I pray nobody has to know how cancer eats at your body and spirit), tend to make us oblivious to a lot of things, like how much it cost in the 70s to care for someone and their child. About how Church came to learn cooking all kinds of dishes (he claims to never have read a cookbook, but read all other books otherwise). How he is so kind to Charlie despite having an abusive father (most people go to shrinks for that).
Some people find magic in parlour tricks, some in extravagant shows, most others find it in the kindness shown by someone who has nothing to gain from them. This film celebrates that different magic. Watch this one for Murphy, Robertson and for that one magic in our lives we usually take for granted— finding family in those not related to you.
