Burnt
1
Jean Luc, my mentor...
...the guy who gave me
a chance as a chef...
...said to me it was God
who created oysters and apples.
And you can't improve recipes like that.
But it is ourjob to try.
Being a young chef,
I sure as hell tried.
I spent ten years cooking in Paris
and became head chef
of Jean Luc's restaurant.
I was good.
Some nights I was almost
as good as I thought I was.
999,696...
Six ninety-seven.
At least that's what I'm told.
Six ninety-eight...
Six ninety-nine,
Then I destroyed it all.
My devils chased me out of Paris
and I washed up in New Orleans.
I sentenced myself
to hard labor shucking oysters.
999,999.
And today's
the last day of my penance.
One million.
You could give me a raise
and we'd be good.
Where the hell you goin'?
Hey!
He complained about the eggs.
He said they were staring up at him
like the eyes of a dead clown.
He said he knows you from Paris.
He called you "Little Tony."
It's your father's hotel.
You can let yourself in.
The boudin noir
was cooked yesterday.
It was warmed up five hours
under a heat lamp.
A little crust had formed around it.
Are you drunk or stoned?
Or stoned or drunk or something else
no one apart from you has ever been?
What happened to your
self-respect, Tony?
Mm.
This from a guy who once stole methadone
from a dying sous chef.
You used to run the best
restaurant in Paris.
Yeah. And you destroyed it.
Good. Anger.
- Hi, Tony.
- You know, after you disappeared,
Jean Luc and I
had to close the restaurant.
There were rumors you had been
stabbed to death in Amsterdam.
There were drug dealers.
And Jean Luc's daughter
claimed you made her pregnant.
And now I'm back.
I'm going after my third star.
If you try to start a new
restaurant in Paris,
there are at least a dozen people
who will try to have you killed.
Oh, no, no. Not in Paris.
Here, in London.
I'm gonna take over your restaurant.
Ah.
My advice to you, chef?
If you want to live a long life,
eat your own tongue.
Good afternoon, sir.
Adam!
Jesus!
- So, where you been?
- Uh, Louisiana.
- Doing what?
- Shuckin' a million oysters.
- Why?
- Ah, gave up drinking.
Oh, good for you.
Along with, uh, sniffing,
snorting, injecting,
licking yellow frogs, and women.
Nothing. You bastard.
- Celia's gonna be delighted.
- Thank you.
She missed you, you know?
When Jean Luc died,
we were afraid that...
You didn't know?
Oh, I'm sorry.
I know how close you two were.
He was a great chef.
Hey, eat.
That is something, huh?
Sweeney! You just received one
of the best compliments I've ever heard.
This is Adam.
Kinda notorious, back in the day.
Adam has just said your cacio
is one of the best
- What's your name again?
- Helene.
Next time you make cacio, toast
the pepper first to remove the moisture,
and then you want to
grind it by hand, yeah?
- Hello?
- Yeah.
Is this a**hole
a friend of yours, Conti?
A close friend.
Also, add some
chopped sage, why not?
- American?
- Yeah.
- Yeah. Arrogant prick.
- Well, he's a chef.
Jesus. Still crazy.
Oh, sh*t.
Adam?
Okay!
Michel! Okay!
Okay!
It's okay.
I had a long time to think about
what you did to me in Paris.
When I was your sous chef
at Jean Luc's, we were like brothers.
So when I left, it's only
natural that you were... hurt.
So you took your revenge.
Look, Michel, I don't know
why I did that.
I know it was terrible, but...
what exactly did I do to you?
You don't remember what you did to me?
No.
You called the health inspector.
after releasing rats
into my new restaurant.
Oh, wow, that's terrible.
Conti told me
you're going for the third star.
I need a job.
In Paris, they say
we are "old school."
That's bullshit.
Okay, pal.
We're good?
Mr. Jones?
Mr. Jones, your credit card
has been denied.
There's no longer sufficient
funds available
to cover the cost of your room.
That's okay.
I'm friends with Tony Balerdi.
Tony said to tell you that
your knives are in the bag.
F***.
Yes, mate? What can I get you?
Him.
You marinate the lamb in
za'atar and lemon zest, right?
Yeah. And yogurt, too, yeah.
- Gorgeous.
- Thank you.
Look, Mr. Jones,
I just want to say, I...
you've always been a hero of mine.
We studied your menus
and recipes...
- A hero or a god?
- I...
I don't know the difference.
- Would you work for me for nothing?
- For nothing?
- For food, for meals.
- Yeah, absolutely.
- Yeah, if I was learning loads, yeah.
- Would you pay me?
How much would you pay me
to work for me?
Would you pay me
Two hundred? Three hundred?
I'm trying to make a point.
Your resume is great,
this lamb's f***ing fantastic,
but you lack arrogance.
And to be in my kitchen,
you have to defend yourself.
Okay.
No, you mean, "F*** you."
Yeah.
Yeah, f*** you.
Okay.
Now the most important question.
You have a spare bedroom?
How long did
you say he could stay?
Do you think he's drunk?
He doesn't drink anymore.
Are you sure he's famous?
If you're a chef, he's like...
The Rolling Stones.
Oh.
- He scares me.
- He's a two-star Michelin chef.
He's supposed to be scary.
Well, two doesn't seem like many.
To get even one Michelin star,
you have to be like Luke Skywalker.
Okay? To get two,
you have to be...
...whoever Alec Guinness was.
But if you manage to get three...
...you're Yoda.
Well, what if he's Darth Vader?
Sara, I went crazy
on summer vegetables
on a bed of ricotta for you.
And for your carnivore boyfriend,
tea-smoked mackerel
with duck egg.
And then we have bouillabaisse,
followed by escargot with garlic
and parsley butter.
What?
David says escargot
is old-fashioned.
Keep eating.
- Is this a joke?
- Is what a joke?
You leaving me a note
to meet you at a Burger King.
Hmm. No joke.
No, this place is easy, accessible,
and cheap. It's easy to find.
They don't kick you out
if you talk to yourself,
which, for me, is crucial. Sit down.
Mmm. You want some lunch?
No, not here, no.
Why not?
I prefer to eat food cooked
by a proper chef.
You don't like people on minimum wage?
Mr. Jones, I'm a sous chef.
You know why people like you
don't like fast food?
Sorry. "People like me"?
Because it's food
for the working class.
- Excuse me?
- Justify why it costs $500 more
to eat at a place where we work
than it does at a place like this.
- No.
- 'Cause you can't.
Because the food here
is made with too much fat
and too much salt and too many
cheap cuts of meat.
You just described most
classic French peasant dishes.
Burger King is peasants
doing what peasants do,
giving a cheap cut
of meat a little style.
Goulash, bourguignon, cassoulet.
Shall I go on?
- I really have to go.
- What you should have said
is that the problem with this
place is it's too consistent.
And consistency is death.
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"Burnt" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 30 Oct. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/burnt_4851>.
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