The Founder

On more than one occasion whilst mentioning the imminent release of The Founder, the biopic of the man who brought fast food to the world, the same joke was cracked. “So it's a film about Ronald McDonald then?” Oh how we chuckled. Whilst you can argue there may have been a great missed opportunity in not telling the fictional tale of the custard coloured clown's ascent from clown college to the pinnacle of an obesity empire, that question does hit on a deeper point. Who is this is Mr. McDonald then? The man who brought us the Happy Meal toy, the Fillet-O-Fish and the McRib. Everyone knows the name, but the only face they know is crimson cropped and pallid with an ever so slightly homicidal glint in his mirthful eyes.

The Founder, directed by John Lee Hancock, is in fact the story of one Ray Kroc. I can't say for certain whether or not his descendants ever leant their name to a line of rubber sandals whose comfort and practicality are outweighed only by their abhorrent aesthetic but I can say for certain that the man did not lend his name to a fast food chain. Instead, when we meet him he is a professional salesman trying to flog milkshake makers. When he one day receives a bewilderingly large order for these devices from a restaurant in California he is lead to the door of the McDonald brothers revolutionary burger stand. The film then follows his journey from inspiration to success with just a pinch of persistence, a dollop of determination and a liberal sprinkling of skulduggery.

The tale itself is certainly intriguing. Whilst the outcome is never in question, this is a film about the journey more than the destination. The brothers themselves were happy just running an efficient and successful restaurant with little concern for the bigger picture when all of a sudden their lives are turned around by a man with capitalism coursing through his veins. What starts off as a rose tinted paean to a company founded on family values and a quality product gradually gets warped in to something far less nourishing. Kroc sells them on a yarn about how the grand golden arches can be the symbol of the new American church. The film acknowledges this moment safe in the certainty that history would eventually prove him right and knowing just what kind of a god complex it would take to pull it off.

Whilst production line delivery is key to McDonalds success, it unfortunately proves to be a slight downfall for the film. Tales of devious capitalism have proven strong cinematic fodder in the past with everything from oil in There Will Be Blood to cocaine in Blow, but this film relies too much on being an easily consumable product. You have the early struggle, the flash of inspiration, the initial adversity and the eventual glory that comes at a cost. It ticks all the boxes but loses a bit of the flavor in the process. It may be a bit much to expect this particular story to deal in subtlety but as you see the man being lead to betray both his wife and his business partners through the medium of a seductively stirred milkshake, you can't help but feel they are laying it on a bit thick.

There is a lot to be said though for Michael Keaton's lead turn as the eponymous 'founder'. His re-emergence in recent years as an actor synonymous with performances of prestige is a story almost worthy of a film in its own right. He perfectly captures the megalomanical glint of a man who when presented with his break ultimately chooses to break bad and hits all the right notes of empathy and villainy to keep the audience with him. It is a performance big enough that all other characters are very much relegated to the minor supporting category. Nick Offerman and John Carroll Lynch are very effective in capturing the tragedy of the hard done by McDonald brothers where as Laura Dern has little to do but suffer on the sidelines as Kroc's forgotten wife. You can't help but feel there was a better performance in there that for a story which film wasn't particularly interested in telling.

Overall there is a lot of entertainment to be had in the most nefarious tale of name branded meat this side of a Trump steak. The film benefits from a feeling of fortuitous timeliness; the slice of sepia tinged Americana corrupted through an avaricious figurehead. As a piece of film making though it settles for being good when it could have been great. Hollywood loves stories of desperate men willing to succeed at any cost and this one came coupled with the strongest brand recognition you could possibly ask for. It's just a shame it was assembled with efficiency when it could have used just a little more inspiration.