Dystopian depictions of near-future cities can warn us about what lies ahead while also teaching us a lot about the people we are now. The Kitchen, a movie by Kibwe Tavares and Daniel Kaluuya that is set in a not-too-distant London, shows how the power of privatization threatens to destroy the last independent neighborhood that still stands.
The Kitchen
In this intricate, gripping picture, the community emerges as a supremely potent force opposing such injustice. Gentrification is virtually winning. The victory of police violence is guaranteed. The Kitchen neighborhood, located on the south bank of the Thames, is home to the last remaining stronghold of resistance.
In addition to directing his first film, The Kitchen, Kaluuya co-wrote the screenplay with Joe Murtagh (The Woman in the Wall, Calm with Horses), exploring social politics, inequality, grief, and family through the protagonists, Izi (Karen Robinson, star of Top Boy) and Benji (Jedaiah Bannerman), while fusing social realism and science fiction elements. A painful and piercing prediction of a capitalist future that gradually undermines individualism, The Kitchen reads like a warning story, a parable about the direction that cities like London are taking. It’s more of a somber prophecy that doesn’t seem
unreal than a fanciful hypothetical. Furthermore, although the movie is mostly set in London, the marketing slogan reminds us that “Every city has its Kitchen.”
What’s the story behind The Kitchen
London natives Tavares and Kaluuya refer to the movie as “a love letter to our city.” The Kitchen, which is set in the center of London, makes the most of the Brutalist, monochromatic architecture of the city to create a futuristic atmosphere (although the exterior of the building is inspired by Paris’s Damiers de Dauphiné). Though the picture is purposeful without a set date, it feels uncomfortably close to the present. The wealth disparity has grown into more of a chasm in the future. The skyline is dominated by opulent, utilitarian private projects; social housing has virtually disappeared, leaving people on lengthy waitlists for pricey, prefabricated apartments with no other options.
The Kitchen lacks resources, which are instead allocated to these affluent developments, and police raids of this alleged “privately owned property” are frequently brutal and are constantly watched over by a fleet of police drones. Though the rest of the homogenous, sterile metropolis attempts to engulf it, The Kitchen manages to withstand the onslaught, naturally preserving a feeling of humanity, self-expression, and creativity among its bustling marketplace of neon lights, dining establishments, and scaffolding.
Izi, who is working hard at a funeral home with the hopes of leaving The Kitchen eventually, meets Benji, a 12-year-old who is struggling to locate family and is grieving the loss of his mother. Robinson plays Izi with a sense of lonesome resolve in a role softer than his renowned Top Boy run, only somewhat alarmed by his newfound bond with the stoic but occasionally mischievous Benji, brilliantly portrayed by rookie Bannerman.
The relationship between Robinson and Bannerman grows naturally; Rolling Stone claims that this process was aided by the film’s chronological shooting and Kaluuya’s encouragement of as much improvisation in his leads.
Because they both experienced being forced to become independent due to external circumstances, Benji and Izi grow close despite the ongoing threat of raids and Benji’s attraction to a younger, more politically engaged group led by Stapes (Top Boy’s Hope Ikpoku Jr.).
A realistically grim future is realized in The Kitchen.
Interestingly, The Kitchen centers on the Black experience in near-future times, in contrast to other dystopian movies. Brutal, white police squads routinely raid The Kitchen’s mostly Black neighborhood, ruthlessly dragging residents from their homes. Few movies, such as the satirical Sorry to Bother You, have the rare quality of highlighting and predicting future scenarios for Black characters that are rooted in our current reality.
The community is what keeps The Kitchen together.
The Kitchen’s central story is around Benji’s teenage grief and Izi’s dawning sense of fatherhood, but overall, the movie is a celebration of happiness and fortitude in the face of ongoing dehumanization. The Kitchen’s inhabitants fight the well-funded government to keep their houses and companies free from the corporate tycoons that control the city.
Every day, they stay in touch through the lively pirate radio broadcasts of the enigmatic Lord Kitchener (played well by former Arsenal footballer Ian Wright, with an homage to the legendary Trinidadian calypso singer). He reminds neighbors to only take what they need and to assist one another while also providing important neighborhood updates, birthday greetings, news of marriage proposals, and advice on unusual food delivery.
We are unstoppable. “We can only defeat them if we perceive ourselves as one,” he teaches over microphones.
In addition to being a well-known member of the community, Lord Kitchener serves as the film’s unifying force and provides the diegetic music for The Kitchen with his extensive record collection. The Kitchen is alive with music, while the streets of London remain silent due to conservatism. Scenes including Alhaji K. Frimpong, Fela Kuti, Salvatore Adamo, Champaign, Kofi Nti, Ofori Amponsah, and Barosky resound through the neighborhood’s antique speakers, all thanks to Lord Kitchener’s irresistible record collection.
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This theme of musical collective disobedience is carried through other sequences as well, one of which is a lively underground roller skating club and is a highlight of the movie. In The Kitchen, danger is also defined by communal sound. The sound of pots and pans clanging heralds the arrival of the cops, who are a terrifyingly continuous presence. The Kitchen neighborhood is rocked by scenes of police violence, as fathers, mothers, friends, and neighbors are treated like second-class citizens. “Remember that we disobeyed their commands to leave. This is where we live.
Following a raid, Lord Kitchener declares, “We ain’t goin’ nowhere.” “They stopped providing us with supplies and water, and we refused. Ick you. We’re not going anywhere. We are now the objective.”With excellent performances and astute world-building, Tavares and Kaluuya have created a dystopian thriller that is both incredibly fascinating and realistic while also acknowledging the present. Kitchen serves as both a mirror and a cautionary tale, criticizing London’s gentrified future while reflecting its past.
How to observe: Netflix is now offering The Kitchen for streaming, which made its premiere at the BFI London Film Festival.
The Kitchen, directed by Daniel Kaluuya, features Kano. ‘There’s been a lot of growth.
The small child begins to cling to him, accompanying him to the Life After Life facility and then into the Kitchen, whereupon he forms bonds with a gang of youthful vigilante activists. Izi and Benji form a link that keeps Izi anchored to the house he was prepared to leave behind because they both feel protective of him. Amid their path toward learning—and, for Benji, relearning—how to navigate the world with someone by their side, the two tackle the impending conflict and bloodshed together as the raids become more frequent and the situation in the Kitchen worsens.
The film’s greatest feature is unquestionably the direction of Kaluuya and Tavares. The picture consistently maintains its emotional impact, alternating between intensely tense action sequences and contemplative moments that reveal the protagonists’ innermost thoughts. The Kitchen is a skillfully done planet, so called because the inhabitants hit pots and pans with spoons to warn of impending raids. The facades, which are tinted in shades of stone and rust, contrast with the neon excitement of the underground party scene. A weaker movie would just depict misery and conflict in this community’s culture, yet “The Kitchen” avoids being a corny representation of poverty.
The Kitchen: Composing and Guidance
It consistently has minor subtleties that support the profundity of its lore, allowing for the realities of life. The announcement early in the movie that water is limited to one side of the large community because of cutoffs from the city adds to the mood, as does the sound of police drones constantly invading the Kitchen.
These are minor aspects that hint at the over-surveillance of impoverished communities as well as the limitation of resources, rather than being the center of focus in the story. Along with lavish attention to everyday human enjoyment, the movie includes poignant coming-of-age moments, such as Benji’s attempt at his first kiss. Fun moments steeped in Black culture are included, which is doubtless done on purpose. These moments range from silly freestyle battles, clubby roller rinks, and amazing needle drops from Sampha and David Ruffin.
Robinson and Bannerman balance each other’s convincing chemistry as loners turned partners against the world with performances that allude to the inner lives of their characters. Robinson’s icy appearance contrasts with Bannerman’s innocence and innocent openness, and their mutual trait exchange is skillfully and convincingly done. However, occasionally the narrative becomes bogged down in its intricacy, and “The Kitchen” bites off more than it can handle, despite the world-building and direction creating an engrossing experience.
A few plot points feel more like unresolved questions than open-ended questions, as though the movie is pleading for a sequel. And even if the script makes a great emotional turn by focusing on the interaction between Izi and Benji, it fails to go back and revisit the universe that it took such care to create in the first place, so much of its potential remains unrealized.
Currently available on Netflix.
