“Carême” may be the most Gallic show ever made. Not because the Apple TV+ drama features enough torrid affairs to make Carrie Bradshaw blush; not even because the action unfolds in the political heart of Napoleonic Paris, enlisting such real-life figures as foreign minister Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand (Jérémie Renier), police chief Joseph Fouché (Micha Lescot) and Empress Josephine (Maud Wyler) as major characters. No, what makes this French-language show about French history so extra, incredibly French is the namesake protagonist: a dashing, seductive, single-earring-wearing spy who also happens to be a founding father of haute cuisine.
It is a fact that Marie-Antoine Carême (Benjamin Voisin) cooked for many heads of state in his storied career. The subtitle of the series’ source material, a 2004 biography by co-creator Ian Kelly, bills him as “the first celebrity chef,” and a common epithet holds him up as “the king of chefs and the chef of kings.” It is less firmly established that a young Carême played an active role in statecraft, and yet that’s exactly what this frothy, flirty and above all fun show presupposes. You may not think the fine art of patisserie could have much influence on a potential peace treaty between two colonial powers, but that just means you haven’t fully embraced the Francophone mindset.
In the telling of Kelly and lead writer Davide Serino, also credited as co-creator, Carême attracts the interest of then-First Consul Bonaparte (Frank Molinaro) when his knowledge of natural remedies helps the leader recover from a mid-coital seizure. (Not only is this Carême a culinary prodigy and seductive lothario; he’s also a healer. Quelle multitasking!) Though he initially turns down an offer to join Bonaparte’s household staff, Carême changes his mind when his adoptive father, Bailly (Vincent Schmitt), is arrested on trumped-up charges of treason. Drawn out of his humble galley kitchen and into a world of diplomatic intrigue, Carême becomes a pawn in the cold war between Talleyrand, a Machiavellian schemer stabbing backs in the name of a newborn republic, and Fouché, a draconian lawman who mistrusts anything that moves.
Carême’s motivations are inevitably less interesting than what they set up: a proudly ridiculous conflation of governance and gastronomy. Composer Guillaume Roussel’s giddy, maximalist score sets the tone for a story invested in appetites of all kinds. Carême goes on a road trip to Poland in the hope that his skill set can convinced the exiled King Louis XVIII (Sharif Andoura), an inveterate gourmand, to sign a letter of abdication; Carême uses a multicourse lunch to send a coded message to a political prisoner; Carême becomes one Josephine’s many partners in philandering, then blackmails her to advance Talleyrand’s agenda while they’re having loud and vigorous intercourse. This dalliance is in addition to Carême’s more recreational entanglements, principally a love triangle between himself, ladies’ maid Henriette (Lyna Khoudri) and sous-chef Agathe (Alice Da Luz).
The twisty plot is endlessly entertaining, though the specifics of the hero’s vaunted genius are sadly relegated to the sidelines. “Carême” offers plenty of eye candy, from sprawling châteaus to anachronistically tousled hair to an entire pyramid made of pastries. But there’s not much about what precisely makes the eponymous protagonist such a paradigm-shifting visionary, apart from some symbolic forms of rebellion like making chicken Marengo, Napoleon’s favorite dish, with — gasp! — veal. “Carême” is often ahistorical, but not as flagrantly as analogous series like “Bridgerton.” It would be nice if the show incorporated the substance of Carême’s innovations the same way it weaves Talleyrand’s reputation for cunning and physical disability into his portrayal. Nonetheless, “Carême” makes for a transportive experience. In that sense, at least, it’s akin to a great meal.
The first two episodes of “Carême” are now streaming on Apple TV+, with remaining episodes airing weekly on Wednesdays.
variety.com
#Sexy #Chef #Spy #Drama #OhSoFrench
