Nose to Tail has a lot going for it. It’s technically solid, with a magnetic lead performance and a clear understanding of its subject matter, and it makes great use of its single location. The missile that sinks the ship, though, is the script. The dialogue is sharp, and like I said, the filmmakers know the subject of which they speak, the world of fine dining restaurants, but its main character not only doesn’t grow or learn but the challenges that come his way are all variations of the same theme and evoke the same reaction. You know how he’s going to react, so no matter how much the suspense is ratcheted up, the results are more of the same.

Dan (Aaron Abrams), a master chef, owns his restaurant. He is self-serving, self-involved, misogynistic, prone to violent outbursts, and generally an unpleasant person all around. We are privy to one 24-hour period of his life. On this particular day, he has a special guest coming in, and he needs to make the best impression possible. Of course, everything goes wrong: his second-in-command quits, his landlord demands four months back rent, his wine suppliers won’t extend his credit, and he’s on the skids with his girlfriend, who is also the maître d’. Every time a problem comes up, he pleads, and when that fails, he explodes and becomes hurtful and bitter.

Kudos to Abrams, who manages to find different colors and ways to portray the one-dimensional Dan. He is fascinating to watch. This cannot be said for Lara Jean Chorostecki as his paramour Chloe, who doesn’t rise to the occasion and match Abrams, though the blame can hardly be placed at her feet. Her role seems to only exist as a foil and nothing more. There is nothing we know of Chloe’s life except she dates Dan and wants more recognition for helping to run the restaurant. 

What is noteworthy about Nose to Tail is how well it portrays the intricacies of the restaurant business. From picking the food, the presentation, and how wine is chosen, this film seems more realistic and honest than any reality show about cooking. It feels lived in, and that goes a long way. And, as stated previously, Abrams gives a fierce performance. Dan is a stew of toxic masculinity: preening, vindictive, prideful yet easily wounded. His saving grace is that he is an excellent cook, and he feels it’s perfectly fine to sacrifice all for the sake of his art. And he does, but he eventually needs people, and that is a fact that he simply cannot abide.

So, what we have is a well-made film that stumbles because it really doesn’t know what to do with Dan, and what when it does, it’s only intermittently compelling.