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Storyline
Wolverhampton,1967:- nine year old Nigel Slater loves his mother though she is a hopeless cook, her finest offering being toast whilst he has great culinary aspirations. When she dies of asthma Nigel is left with a distant father but worse is to come when the 'common' Mrs. Joan Potter arrives as the Slaters' cleaner. Nigel fears,rightly,that her aim is to be the next Mrs. Slater and soon he has a new stepmother and is whisked away to the country. Joan is,however,a superb cook but this only makes for rivalry as Nigel,the only boy in his cookery class at secondary school,competes with her to find the way to his father's heart. A weekend job in a pub kitchen introduces Nigel to an older boy,another great cook and gay like himself ,who gives him the confidence and inspiration to leave home after his father's death and head for the hotel kitchens of London. Written by
don @ minifie-1
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The story of a boy's hunger.
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Trivia
The film is an adaptation of the autobiography of food writer
Nigel Slater. The central character is given that name. In the final scene, when Freddy Highmore is given a job in the kitchens of the Savoy hotel, the person who hires him is played by the real life Nigel Slater.
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Goofs
When Nigel plays the 7 inch single towards the end of the drama, he pulls out a record with a 'Harvest' label. Dusty Springfield was never on this label.
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Quotes
Mrs. Potter:
I brought you a cup of tea, nice with a cake.
Nigel Slater:
I don't want to, I don't have to have it. I don't want you in my life anymore!
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Toast sounded so good that I ordered a copy from the UK since it is not available yet in the US, but it was disappointing. Despite a few notable exceptions - like Clapham Junction and The Lost Language of Cranes - it seems the British are not much better at making TV movies than we Americans are. This one is precious and phony, with a truly terrible screenplay and corny acting even from actors who can be great, like Bonham Carter.
The first kid who plays Nigel (before Freddie Highmore takes over during adolescence) gives a particularly cringeworthy performance; but I blame the director, not the kid. Everything is overdone in this movie, all the emotions overblown, all the situations as contrived as skits on I Love Lucy; the result is that nothing is believable, and none of the characters that sound good in reviews come across as real human beings - they're just actors striking mawkish poses and declaiming badly written lines for the camera.
The movie does not even look good: the photography is so heavy with sepia tones and soft focus that I felt like my glasses needed cleaning. Finally, I am sorry, but Freddie Highmore is NOT believable playing gay; maybe he could pull it off with a competent director and a believable screenplay, but he does not have them in Toast. He is badly miscast, but that is hard to say because this whole movie is so badly made.
Toast is only for those addicted to very broad melodrama and shallow sentimentality, but I hesitate to recommend it even to them.