Martha's stock

leaves its lust on a low boil.

By Jenni Olson

Mostly Martha

HOW DO YOU say "bon appétit" in German? Hamburg-born writer-director Sandra Nettelbeck's sumptuous new film, Mostly Martha, extends the Euro-foodie film genre to Germany with its story of a woman looking for love amid scads of gorgeously shot meat, fish, and pasta. As one of the few women writer-directors making movies today (you tell me if you can name even one who gets to write and direct her own films), Nettelbeck is clearly a force to be reckoned with and a talent to watch. Look for her uncredited home movie cameo as the dead sister (yes, she's an actor as well).

Mostly Martha is an understated gem of a film that manages to be both sexy and family friendly in its intimate portrait of the titular protagonist. Martha (Martina Gedeck) is a top chef at a fancy Italian restaurant in Hamburg. One somehow can't help thinking of Martha Stewart, as the commanding, not-a-hair-out-of-place powerhouse chef navigates her way through a picture-perfect but seemingly emotionless life. Martha's fiery, uncompromising spirit comes across in her meticulous control of the kitchen and in her refusal to ever let a customer get away with criticizing her food (she hurls a hunk of raw meat at the guy who says she hasn't cooked his steak rare enough).

Even in her therapy sessions, she can't bring herself to express her feelings about love and life but obsessively recites recipes to her shrink. And the nascent flickering of a flirtation with her new downstairs neighbor (Ulrich Thomsen) completely unhinges her.

The sudden death of Martha's sister in a car accident is the tragic catalyst that opens Martha's emotional floodgates, the rock-bottom moment that makes her fall apart. And Gedeck (think Julianne Moore with a softer edge) falls apart with the best of them as she conveys the grief of losing a sister alongside the reticently self-sacrificing necessity of taking in her eight-year-old niece, Lina (Maxime Foerste). Obviously uncomfortable in her new parental role, Martha begins to search for Lina's long-absent Italian father in the hope that he will take Lina off her hands.

When Martha's boss (Sibylle Canonica) brings on a free-spirited Italian sous chef to help out in the kitchen, Martha's frustration and anxiety mount. Of course, everyone loves Mario (Sergio Castellitto), including the formerly morose little Lina, who stops moping around as soon as she slurps Mario's pasta. This is when Mostly Martha becomes more than just a foodie love story and rises to another level as a genuine heart-warmer. It's also the point at which Martha's passion for Mario gradually begins to become evident and we get lots of great scenes of not-yet-sated desire in beautiful counterpoint with abundant, sensual culinary cinematography by director of photography Michael Bertl.

Evoking this kind of prolonged state of longing is one of Nettelbeck's greatest strengths – going all the way back to her 1992 short, A Certain Grace (a wonderfully agonizing 40 minutes of unrequited lesbian lust), and her 1995 debut feature, Loose Ends (about three women grappling with various stages of love and passion).

Nettelbeck builds up a reservoir of restrained emotion here too, and the payoff is bigger than just a hot love scene (though there is one of those). The three lead performances (from Gedeck, Foerste, and Castellitto) are so good you'll forgive the fact that you can figure out the ending well before it comes.

Mostly Martha premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival last year on Sept. 10 and managed to garner a raging buzz that resulted in a sold-out screening on Sept. 12. It somehow spoke to the moment: while the film offers an array of sensual and cinematic pleasures, it ultimately has even more to say to us about grief and longing and about how we must reach out to those around us in both good times and bad.

'Mostly Martha' opens Fri/23 at Bay Area theaters. See Movie Clock, in Film listings, for show times.