I should probably state upfront that I am not a big fan of romantic comedies, with only a few making the list of ones considered enjoyable. It was with a very low expectation then that the viewing of the Hungarian film ‘Cream’ (aka Hab) began. Luckily, any major concern was misplaced, as it had a lightness that is probably welcome for many during this period of lockdown.
Dora (Vica Kerekes – Resistance) is at heart a romantic who has fallen out with the notion of true love, deciding that in the real world “true love is hopeless”. This is mainly because her own love life has been disastrous, and after discovering her boyfriend David (Miklós Bányai) was actually engaged to someone else, she has remained single. Wallowing in that bitterness, Dora has regained some control by opening a Pastry Shop, ‘Hab’, whereby she can convert her unfulfilled love into sweetness. Despite producing quality cakes, all themed after doomed couples from films, the shop isn’t doing well, and in danger of having to close.
A lifeline presents itself though in the form of a funding opportunity, but sadly she doesn’t meet the criteria as it is only for family businesses. Desperate, she convinces an acquaintance, Marci (László Mátray) to pretend to be her husband so she can still apply, as well as attend the residential workshop course with 3 other couples. Just to complicate matters, the organisers think she has a son, so she engages the help of her young neighbour, László (Erik Gyarmati), a precocious drama obsessed boy, who jumps at the chance to play the part. Obviously what follows is a bit of a farce…
The premise and the ensuing storyline are nothing new, and you’ve probably seen a variant of this story many times, as the ‘fake relationship’ trope is ubiquitous. In theory this should be a complete failure then, with its main characters and situations particularly formulaic and clichéd. Surprisingly though, there is such an inherent charm in the proceedings that a lot of the flaws are smoothed over and what could have been a real slog turns into a relatively light and entertaining experience.
Much of the credit for that has to go to the main trio of Vica Kerekes, László Mátray, and Erik Gyarmati, who have a great rapport. Kerekes especially is such an engaging lead that her characters light quirkiness lifts everything around it. With a style that is aiming for Chocolat meets Amelie, this also has a bittersweet touch reminiscent of tv show Pushing Daisies, where nothing seems quite down to earth and there’s an ethereal quality about it.
It would be fair to say though, that a lot of things in ‘Cream’ are completely preposterous. Pretty much every character is a caricature, and there is little development for any of them, making them all wafer thin. The other couples at the retreat are especially undefined apart from their clichéd basic traits. It’s a strange group, including the new age couple who run ‘Yurt Saunas’, a health conscious pilates couple who drag their daughter along in their cult like existence, and then David and his wife, who run a daycare. Even Dora herself is only slightly drawn, with her primary characteristic being her pessimism about love, and only her interest in film providing any depth.
Similarly, Marci is apparently a Dentist who also dabbles at being a DJ, but he never seems to be much more than an everyman in a cabriolet. There’s even a moment that is supposed to be a big transformation, where all the women suddenly see him differently, but you’re just left thinking, ‘What? Really?’. He does at least show the most amount of honesty and heart throughout, and is the least duplicitous of all the characters.
The real oddity of the main trio is László who is eleven going on fifty and is a somewhat pretentious child, almost like a miniature Hungarian Niles Crane (Frazier). During the course of ‘Cream’ he becomes infatuated with the daughter of the pilates couple, and acts as a constant reminder to Dora that optimism is possible. Gyarmati holds his own amongst the group here, and never looks like he’s out of his depth, stopping László from being an irritating third wheel.
Somehow, all of these components come together to make ‘Cream’ a light, but enjoyable film, as long as you can get past its flaws. That this is even possible is no doubt down to the presence of Vica Kerekes who fills the centre of this with a performance that carries it along with charm, as without her this would easily have fallen flat. If you’re looking for something that’s not that demanding and will distract from the world’s current predicament, this may be it.
