Beatriz at Dinner

Beatriz at Dinner casts Salma Hayek as the title character, a holistic medicine practitioner who arrives at a client’s (Connie Britton’s Cathy) home to deliver a massage but is eventually stranded after her car breaks down – with the movie detailing the culture clash that ensues once Beatriz is invited to join a fancy dinner hosted by Cathy and her husband (David Warshofsky’s Grant). (Said dinner party includes John Lithgow’s powerful, callous businessman and Jay Duplass’ snivelling, obsequious lawyer.) Filmmaker Miguel Arteta, working from Mike White’s screenplay, delivers a strong opening stretch that revolves almost entirely around the title character’s hardscrabble existence, with the heavy emphasis on Beatriz’s day-to-day exploits – which somehow includes caring for a goat – effectively highlighting the vast chasm that exists between her and the assorted well-to-do dinner guests. (Hayek’s understated performance only perpetuates this feeling.) It’s interesting to note, too, that White initially does a nice job of portraying both sides in less-than-flattering terms (ie Beatriz doesn’t come off as an entirely angelic figure, to be sure), and the back-and-forth that consequently ensues is generally as intriguing (and occasionally electrifying) as the pared-down premise might’ve indicated. There reaches a point, of course, at which the somewhat congenial atmosphere begins to change dramatically, with the escalating tensions between the two parties paving the way for a series of impressively gripping sequences (eg Beatriz grows more and more horrified as Lithgow’s Doug Strutt brags about his kills during a recent big-game expedition). Beatriz at Dinner builds and builds before arriving at a finale that’s ultimately revealed as a fake-out, with the movie’s actual ending, which is about as abrupt and anti-climactic as one could imagine, threatening to undo the good will established by everything leading up to it – which ultimately does secure the picture’s place as a massively uneven effort that doesn’t quite seem to know what it’s trying to say.

**1/2 out of ****