This biopic of TV chef Julia Child is so charming and warm it's televisual comfort food – seasoned with a fabulously old-fashioned turn from its lead.
It has a skittish mood to it, lightly skipping between scenes, a dash of something here, a spoonful of something there, as if to force the narrative to dance. A young, black, female producer, Alice Naman (Brittany Bradford) has to fight the Joan Holloway fight in order to gain respect for herself and Child in the workplace. While supportive of his wife, he is also one of those snobbish men, and Child’s subtle calculations about how to care for his ego struck me as an honest and complex portrait of a marriage. She has the idea to move into television after performing a spot of guerrilla omelette-making on a chatshow about literature. Sarah Lancashire is fabulous as Child, managing to neither replicate Streep nor do a surface impression of the real woman. Julia is charming and warm, with all the appeal of comfort food, as unrefined as that can be.
The Happy Valley star impresses as the pioneering American TV chef Julia Child in a beautiful window to the 1970s.
Some diners will be hoping for more of the unexpected in the episodes to come. The subtext is that not having had a baby of her own, America’s matriarch instead chooses to give birth to a TV genre instead. Questions about the purpose and importance of public television are sprinkled on like seasoning but never overpower the dish. The series begins with Child, whose 1961 book Mastering the Art of French Cooking has already caused a stir in the US, taking her first steps on to television. But despite this slight reassessment, the manner of the telling is very much by the book. Lying somewhere between Elizabeth David and Delia Smith, with a pinch of Nigella Lawson thrown-in, she practically invented American cookery programmes with The French Chef (1963). As such (and thanks to at least 10 autobiographies) her story should be well known.
HBO Max's new series is worth watching. But there's nothing quite like "The French Chef" and the real Child.
The best portrayal of Julia Child will always be her own. Why not … just create a series about a young Black woman producer set in the ‘60s and ‘70s? I’d watch that. But Child is as much a vehicle as a fleshed-out character here: She is a device that allows the series’ creators to explore the issues of the era, as television became a cultural force, as the feminist movement grew stronger and gender roles began to shift. “Omelette,” the first episode of “Julia,” starts off feeling forced as the actors ease into their roles and dialog. But are these things important? The fourth episode of Season 1 of “The French Chef,” it is brilliant from its opening lines: “You’re about to see a French omelet being made ...” And then, a mere 14 seconds later, as Child turns the finished dish onto a plate, “... You’ve just seen a French omelet made.” What follows is a half-hour of thoughtful, expert teaching made entertainment by Child’s artfully deployed charm.
The HBO Max series charts Julia Child's rise to fame, starting with an unexpected appearance on a book review show.
For example, it’s particularly arresting when a visibly shaken Child is informed she’s going through the menopause, the impact of which is given time and space rarely seen on television. Able to turn on the charm when in front of the TV cameras, this version of Child is given depth beyond her public persona. Lancashire plays her as Meryl Streep did in the 2009 movie Julie & Julia – a headstrong woman that knows what she wants and how to get it – and going far beyond simple imitation.
Legendary chef and cookbook author Julia Child taped her first TV appearance nearly 60 years ago, on a public TV station in Boston.
Just sign in with your local provider and get watching on series like “The French Chef” and “Julia and Jacques Cooking at Home.” Or, Amazon has season one of “The French Chef” available as well. Also new to the Food Network, “The Julia Child Challenge,” which tasks amateur chefs to follow along and master some of Child’s most iconic recipes in this twist on a reality competition cooking show. Of course, the renaissance of Julia Child mania started back in 2009 with Nora Ephron’s hit film “Julie & Julia,” starring Meryl Streep as Child and Amy Adams as Julie Powell, a New York City blogger cooking her way through Child’s oeuvre.
This week on the Julia Child-inspired competition, we tackle the "bean trick" for learning how to make omelets.
Despite my nitpicks about the silly stretches this show makes to create weekly themes, it's a great use of the Julia Child footage available from the archives. In the end, it's down to three — and next week's finale. (This is why you don't keep sweet vermouth in the house.) He's doctored it up, however, and Stephanie actually likes the sweet! Bill definitely accidentally grabbed the sweet vermouth instead of the dry. Uh oh, Britt! Her flavors are generally good, but time keeps biting her in the ass. To see what dessert they'll be drawing inspiration from, the challengers each pick a remote, which makes me roll my eyes . . . but wait! Bill turns out a simple omelet with a take on Coquilles St.-Jacques ( scallops in wine sauce) to top it, though he seems to be using shrimp instead of scallops. But I have a question: Aren't all the weeks about Julia on TV? Isn't that the whole point of the competition? "To me, that is brilliant cooking." Actually, they're all wearing the same clothes. Why is Jaíne wearing the same (adorable) crawdad dress in every interview? The judges discuss how tricky omelets are to master.