The theme of a lonely individual finding themselves through their love of food, which serves as a replacement for their crippling loneliness, has been massively appropriated by modern cinema, with the motif of the fiercely independent young person using more traditional cravings to stand in for their inability to maintain a relationship constantly serving as a source for modern romantic comedies. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always yield the most positive results – but when it does, the final product can be quite close to extraordinary. This is most notable in the case of Cream (Hungarian: Hab), a lovely independent comedy written by Nóra Lakos, Fruzsina Fekete and Yvonne Kerékgyártó, and directed by Lakos, who tells the story of a lonely baker and pastry chef who channels her sadness into her profession, producing a range of extraordinary delicacies that she names after famous on-screen lovers, as a means to compensate for her past failures when it comes to matters of the heart. Cream may not be the strongest film in terms of its narrative, nor does it tell a particularly original story – and in many ways, it can be quite derivative at the best of times. However, what it doesn’t lack is an abundance of genuine heart, with the director taking an interesting approach to her process of telling this story, which is a lot more compelling than we’d expect when looking at it from afar. The more we focus on the ideas embedded in the story and how the director uses them alongside some common tropes related to the genre, the clearer it becomes that Cream is an exceptionally special film with a lot of heart and an even greater sense of humour.

Cream is a film built around the love of food – one can always tell if a filmmaker understands the appeal of a good meal by how they frame the cuisine. In the case of this film, the pastries baked by the main character take centre stage, serving as a recurring motif that reflects her inner loneliness. It’s a common trope for a film to focus on a character that uses their peculiar gift to compensate for their neverending loneliness, often neglecting the fact that these people are exceptionally talented, and just because they spend their days marinading in self-pity doesn’t distract from the fact that they’re producing genuinely interesting results. Yet, this is one of the many delightful ironies of this film, which places us in the shoes of a peculiar character that is essentially just a surrogate for any lonely individual, particularly those who carry the burden of a broken relationship from the past, using the protagonist as a vessel for some hilarious but heartfelt conversations on the nature of existence, and the challenges that come with trying to find love in a world that is seemingly disinterested. It’s not necessarily original (being the basis for many cheaply-produced romantic comedies, the only difference between this one and those produced for inexpensive video-on-demand platforms being that this is made in Europe, with something of a dignified budget and some semblance of artistic integrity), but it has a clear and concise message that rises above everything else and single-handedly turns this film into something worth seeing, even if only for the delicious food presented to us throughout the story, and the accompanying images that are a lot more enticing than the pastries that anchor the film.

The romantic comedy genre is not revolutionized by Cream, but it is questioned throughout, with the writers taking a very interesting approach to the narrative process. It may be predictable, but it goes about using conventions in a way that is much more well-composed than the more formulaic entries into the genre. Part of this is through the theme of deception, with the construction of a fake family, that eventually becomes very close to a real one, being one of the many fascinating components that may be easy to spot from miles away, but still adds a lot of humour to the film, as well as heart when it is necessary. Inarguably, the first half of the film is superior – it’s where the funniest jokes reside, as well as the more inventive aspects of the story. It’s also where the stars of the film, namely Vica Kerekes and László Mátray, thrive the most since they’re playing two very compelling characters that benefit from the more absurd nature of the story, which gradually erodes and becomes somewhat more melodramatic in the second half. In these moments, it feels like Cream has stopped aiming for the comedy, and is now dedicated solely to the romance, leading to a couple of overwrought moments. While they may not necessarily squander the film, they do make it somewhat jagged in tone, which is rarely optimal for such a production, which depends less on the story, and more on its execution, which isn’t done any favours by the cliches gradually taking over. However, all hope is ultimately not lost since the actors are always willing to do the work to elevate the material beyond mere melodrama, and the script manages to find space for genuine wit, in between heavy-handed romantic commentary, which makes for a bizarre but oddly enticing experience.

Cream doesn’t do anything we haven’t seen many times before, but purely by its genuine soulfulness, and its ability to elicit genuine laughter, it can be considered a triumph, at least in terms of the genre in which it was made. There aren’t many romantic comedies that can be considered wholly original, and the few that we encounter are usually much more ambitious. Cream is not a film driven by any discernible audacity, outside of a few interesting components that are more trivial than they are daring. However, there comes a point in the film where we stop trying to make sense of the situations in which these characters find themselves, and more invested in seeing where the director takes these individuals. There is never any doubt that there will be a happy ending, and we can easily predict the outcome of the film – once you’ve seen enough romantic comedies, it becomes less of a case of expecting surprises, and more of trying to determine which patterns it is going to follow, and Cream is not any different. However, through a lot of heartfelt humour, a genuinely charming cast and a screenplay that has an abundance of humour and heartwarming romance, it becomes 90 minutes of blissful escapism, which is often more necessary than something that is artistically resonant, as made extremely clear throughout this simple but adorable film that proves that even the most conventional works can be captivating at the very least, especially in how they grab and maintain the full attention of the audience.