Mark Reviews Movies: WE FEED PEOPLE

We Feed People, National Geographic Documentary Films

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Review by Mark Dujsik | May 26, 2022

José Andrés probably could have coasted and lived comfortably on the fame and success that came with being part of the early batch of celebrity chefs. He didn't, though, and now, the chef—who prefers to call himself a cook, since it's the preparation of meals that appeals to him more than the logistics of running a kitchen—is primarily known as the founder of World Central Kitchen, a non-profit NGO that organizes food relief at disaster sites around the globe. Director Ron Howard's We Feed People is a documentary about both Andrés and his organization, but it's a more compelling film when it's the latter.

Andrés probably wouldn't argue with that assessment, and that's what makes the film's stretches of focus on him fit into the bigger picture of the narrative. It is, in parts, a biography of the chef, from his childhood in Spain—growing up with two nurses for parents, a kind and giving father, who regularly cooked for neighbors, and a mother whose relationship with her children was more "challenging"—to his rise to celebrity as a chef, restauranteur, author, and television personality.

Howard interviews his key subject for this information, of course, but he also sits down with Andrés' family: supportive wife Patricia and three daughters—all of whom have grown accustomed to his usual absences. One of the daughters notes that she had to sign up for social media accounts, simply to get any word from and about him.

Scenes of Andrés at home, cooking and joking around with his family, give us a sense of unity, but there is something a bit less cheery beneath the surface. The chef admits it as much himself: He feels compelled to leave home, not only to work, but also because of that relationship with his mother, from whom he felt the need to protect his younger brothers.

None of these details are really necessary for the heart of the film, which is an account of the history and ongoing mission of World Central Kitchen. Howard definitely includes those moments of Andrés' home life to provide a sense of what the chef has sacrificed in his goal to feed people and help set up the food-preparation infrastructure at disaster-struck place.

Perhaps, the filmmaker includes the suggestion of the behavior of Andrés' mother to reconcile the chef's own flashes of anger and control. There's one moment here, as Andrés oversees the distribution of meals in The Bahamas after a hurricane, when a local woman, who asked for and received a meal from a volunteer ahead of the line, scolds Andrés for yelling at that volunteer. Andrés has a point about not wanting to cause a rush on the food, but the woman makes a fine argument that his obvious anger isn't going to sit well with people looking at him and his volunteers for help.

Anyway, the thread about whatever issues Andrés might be dealing with on account of his past does muddle some of this otherwise uplifting story, but it also doesn't matter within that bigger picture. The film is at its best when Andrés is absent, in the backdrop, or just another part of the impressive machinery of compassion and aid he has created. That's not to criticize the chef, whose passion for this humanitarian work is obvious and clearly sincere. It is to say, though, that the on-the-ground documentation of World Central Kitchen's efforts is far more vital to the success of this film than any one individual or personality within the organization—even Andrés himself.

The spark for the idea came from a not-for-profit in Washington, D.C., for which Andrés volunteered in the 1990s and which got his name to be dropped by then-President Bill Clinton. Another president figures into this, obviously, since World Central Kitchen was fundamental to getting food to people in Puerto Rico following Hurricane Maria in 2017—while said president complained about money going to help American citizens and casually tossed a few rolls of paper towels to some people. Watching Andrés drive himself to exhaustion and into debt, in order to bypass the bureaucracy of incompetence and/or disinterest of that administration, solidifies our belief in the man's earnestness to help people.

The organization began after the earthquake in Haiti in 2010. From there and then, World Central Kitchen has gone to disaster sites around the world—a volcanic eruption in Guatemala, other earthquakes, the COVID-19 pandemic, wild fires and hurricanes that are becoming more common and stronger as we humans continue to impact and devastate the environment.

These sections follow Andrés, other officials within the organization, and local volunteers as they organize spaces and kitchens, prepare food, and distribute meals to gathered crowds or to out-of-reach places (In The Bahamas, volunteers have to use an amphibious vehicle because of a collapsed bridge). In keeping the focus of these segments on a personal level, Howard gives us a sense of the magnitude and scope of such an operation, because, for every one person doing one job, we know there are dozens or hundreds of others making those and different efforts in an affected area and for thousands of unseen people.

Obviously, Andrés is an important part of the organization's work, and his celebrity helps to capture people's awareness of it. It's also clear, though, that he sees himself as only one part of more significant operation, and as a documentary, We Feed People is at its most effective when it shares that perspective, which, thankfully, is quite often.

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