DN:FILM Funke
In FUNKE, the mouthwatering portrait of master pasta chef Evan Funke, filmmakers Gabriel Taraboulsy and Alex Emanuele allow their burly but soft-spoken subject to furnish the film’s saucy thesis statement: “Passion’s not the word,” says Funke. “I’m fucking maniacal about pasta.” He comes across less like a maniac than like a mountaintop guru: Funke (pronounced, aptly, “funky”) is bearish, bearded and bald, a man with sparkling blue eyes who’s given to easy chuckles and boyish deference to his mentors.
He’s also one of the best handmade-pasta chefs in America, who learned the ancient tradition of “pasta fatta a mano” in Bologna, Italy, under local “maestra” Alessandra Spisni at her old-timey workshop. This is where Funke mastered 188 of the 365 documented shapes of pasta. It is why he utters distinctly chef-y things like, “The geometry, the actual shape of the pasta, it all has meaning,” even if the film never asks exactly what that meaning is. (Does “bowtie” mean, um, bowtie?) No matter. Funke’s voyage is a flour-dusted hero’s journey, a quest for quintessence as pasta potentate and reigning restaurateur on one of L.A.’s hottest strips. The doc notes his first major success came in smash pasta bistro Bucato—which choked when Funke abruptly left, a swath of financial wreckage in his wake—and picks up a few years later when the chef—recharged by a fond, fruitful visit to mentor Spisni in Italy—hooks up with Canadian investor group Gusto 54 to launch pasta trattoria Felix in L.A.’s hip Venice hood. (The doc is awfully fuzzy about Bucato’s collapse and Funke’s departure, which left him bankrupt—and why Gusto 54 would get near such a radioactive business partner.)
The overriding theme here is Funke’s admirable, teeth-clenching search for pasta perfection. He passionately—“maniacally”—wants to be the best American handmade-pasta chef while navigating the terrifying uncertainties of the restaurant biz. The doc complements this tension by embracing arty food-show tropes of classy series like “Chef’s Table” and “Mind of a Chef”: slo-mo cooking pyrotechnics; still-life plate portraiture; adulatory talking-head cooks and food writers; a caressing string/piano soundtrack. Significantly, you get dramatic close-ups of Funke’s formindable rolling-pin, or “mattarello”—roughly the size of a Louisville Slugger—to demonstrate its superiority over dainty hand-cranked pasta machines. The pin is depicted as an almost sacred object, sheathed like a pool sharp’s cue or a samurai's sword. It all makes you want to rush out and gorge on Funke’s fresh pastas: rigatoni, fettuccine, orecchiette, capunti and, indeed, bowtie—or, more precisely, farfalle. But wait. Our hero’s new eatery, Felix, has kinks. “Funke” concludes on the trattoria’s fretful opening night. Last-minute hiccups fluster the macaroni maven, and the chuckles aren’t so easy now. We won’t tell you how the show unfolds. But note: the name Felix means “happy” or “lucky.” (“Funke” was nominated for a James Beard Award for Best Documentary.)
Streaming on VOD. Hulu and Amazon on October 5.