This is an abominable adaptation of a breathtaking book. For a novel written through the language of love, and sex, and sensuality, and most of all through food, the movie is insultingly prosaic, as bland as dried-out white rice, and as devoid of any emotionality as… well, as Stephen Harper. I don’t know if it’s possible to translate magic realism onto film, but if there’s a way, this certainly isn’t it.