Working your way up in the restaurant industry is not an easy thing, and having talent and confidence is rarely as relevant as the right connections. Getting into a cuisine that people wouldn’t naturally associate you with can be even more challenging, since prospective partners won’t automatically assume any sort of innate ability. Mam is the sweet, unsuspecting story of a man from Texas whose affinity for Vietnamese cuisine propels him to find a way to cook for other people and share his love for this food with the help of the perfect partner.
Jerald (Jerald Head) spent time in Vietnam and learned a lot about the food there, and now that he’s in New York City, he wants to find a way to work in a restaurant. He soon meets Nhung (Nhung Dao Head), a waitress who is Vietnamese, and, after proving to her that he’s serious about this food and that knows how to make it, the two embark on a secretive plan to work out of a restaurant kitchen when its owner isn’t present at night and slowly get the word out that they’ve got something special that everyone really needs to try.
It’s easy to fall for this movie, especially after learning that the film’s two stars are playing versions of themselves and do in fact currently operate a Vietnamese restaurant in lower Manhattan. This film has a strong verité feel to it, not quite like a documentary since the characters aren’t aware of the camera’s presence, though there is voiceover narration that serves to anchor and enhance the film’s dialogue-free time. Its characters speak sparsely and often say more when they’re creatively preparing food silently together than when they’re actually talking to each other.
Another aspect that makes this film, from filmmaker Nan Feix, feel so natural is that its stars have never acted before, and aren’t even actors. There’s a distinct tone to the film that makes it feel at times like a heist, with these two people getting away with something they’re not supposed to, elevating their status in an underground food scene with unknown hopes of turning it into something legitimate and recognized. That makes it quite entertaining, though it’s never too triumphant or self-congratulatory, remaining restrained enough to recognize the reality that they’ll still have tremendous uphill battles even if they manage to find the right person to taste what they’re making.
Jerald isn’t Vietnamese, but this film also isn’t set in Vietnam. While he’s talking endlessly about the beauty of Vietnamese cuisine, audiences are treated to gorgeous shots of New York City at its purest, bustling with countless people and operating in a way that no other city in the world can. It simultaneously feels like the biggest and busiest city there is and an impossibly accessible one, where Jerald and Nhung can just put out trays of food in a park and people will line up to eat their food. It’s a marvelous contradiction that makes the film feel even more magical, tapping into the vibe of a place that brings so many people together and means something different to every one of them.
Mam runs a short eighty-one minutes, and much of its runtime, especially as Jerald and Nhung begin cooking together and setting up spaces for them to be able to feed prospective clients, feels like a fast-paced fever dream. The cinematography by Matt Batchelor is exceptional, making excellent use of light and scenery to create the effect of one long day that just keeps on starting over. Mam is a gem of a film, a wonderful love letter to its protagonist, Vietnamese cuisine, and the uniqueness of New York City.
Movie Rating: 8/10
