A wealthy German family spends their summer vacation at a picturesque villa in the French countryside. At first glance, everything appears picture-perfect -- luxury, tranquillity and the superficial harmony of a family trying to enjoy some quality time.
But the illusion begins to crumble one evening when they encounter an injured woman on the side of the road. They decide to bring her back to the house, both literally and figuratively trying to "patch things up". However, her presence slowly begins to unravel not only their relationships, but the very foundation of their privileged, isolated existence.
That premise sets the stage for Delicious, a new German Netflix original and the directorial debut of Nele Mueller-Stöfen. At first, it seems like the perfect setup for a taut psychological thriller -- one that could cleverly explore themes of trust, class and the rot beneath affluence. And to be fair, the movie does start strong, with gorgeous cinematography, an uneasy tone and a slow-burn setup that hints at deeper darkness beneath the surface. But unfortunately, it doesn't take long for you to realise that this particular meal may not be as delicious as promised.
Let me start with the positives. I thought the film looked beautiful. The wide shots of the French countryside and the luxurious villa offer more than just eye candy -- they establish a sense of detachment and isolation that mirrors the family's emotional state. There's a stillness to many scenes that allows us time to observe character dynamics, notice subtle shifts in behaviour and appreciate the aesthetics. Some scenes are deliberately slow and give space to breathe, which I usually appreciate in a psychological thriller.
However, the storytelling here can't support the atmosphere the visuals try so hard to establish. Through at least half the film, we're mostly watching the family interact, which could be fine -- great, even -- if it actually built tension or emotional investment. Instead, it just plods along.
Teodora, the mysterious young woman (played by Carla Díaz), slowly worms her way into their lives, first as a guest, then as something like a housemaid, and eventually as a confidant. The scenes begin to shift from merely awkward to increasingly absurd. At a certain point, they're not just strange -- they're downright laughable.
This is where the movie really starts to fall apart. Teodora is, hands down, one of the most insufferable thriller antagonists I've seen in recent memory. Her character is a collection of tired tropes -- the mysterious stranger, the femme fatale, the outsider with an agenda. But beyond being cliché, she's also just incredibly annoying. I didn't find Carla Díaz's performance convincing at all. She's supposed to be a wolf in sheep's clothing, someone subtly manipulating and scheming, but instead, she comes off like a cheerful, naïve drifter -- completely at odds with the sinister tone the film is aiming for.
As the story progressed, I became more and more confused -- not in a good, twisty-thriller kind of way, but in a "why is everyone acting like this?" kind of way. The characters behave with the logic of people who have never interacted with another human being. They all have bizarre priorities and inconsistent emotional responses.
For example, when the children begin to suspect Teodora of manipulation or foul play, the parents not only dismiss them, they become irrationally hostile towards their own kids. It doesn't feel real. It doesn't feel earned. It just feels like lazy writing designed to escalate drama without any groundwork.
And the drama itself -- wow. It's overblown, repetitive and riddled with plot holes. Characters are introduced only to vanish without consequence. Conflicts emerge and resolve with no emotional weight. Teodora's integration into the family is so implausibly easy it borders on absurd.
Everyone seems to immediately trust her and simultaneously spill their deepest secrets, as if she's some kind of self-help guru sent from heaven. And just as quickly, they begin to turn on each other -- all thanks to a random woman they barely know.
Carla Díaz as Teodora in Delicious.
There's also no real mystery about her intentions. The film makes it blatantly clear early on that she's up to something sinister, robbing the story of any suspense or intrigue. Instead of letting us question and wonder -- "Is she really dangerous, or are the family members just paranoid?" -- we're just spoon-fed the answer. This heavy-handedness extends to the movie's larger theme: a critique of capitalism and class privilege.
Now, I'm not opposed to a strong social message in a thriller. But Delicious handles its themes with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. There's one particular scene where Philip (Caspar Hoffman), the teenage son, launches into a dinner-table rant about the evils of the wealthy and the virtues of service workers. It's supposed to be profound, but it feels like something pulled from a Reddit comment thread.
The dialogue is so on-the-nose, it's practically cringe-worthy. It doesn't help that the writing seems convinced of its own brilliance, when really it's just parroting tired ideas in the most obvious way possible.
In the end, Delicious is a film that has the ingredients for a great psychological thriller -- beautiful setting, a mysterious stranger, a rich family harbouring secrets -- but it fails to combine them into anything satisfying.
If you're into painfully slow thrillers that think they're smarter than they actually are, and you don't mind a preachy tone and eye-rolling plot developments, maybe this movie will be to your taste. But if you're looking for real tension, compelling characters or a fresh take on class dynamics, Delicious is one to skip.
- Delicious
- Directed by Nele Mueller-Stöfen
- Starring Valerie Pachner, Fahri Yardım and Carla Díaz
- Now streaming on Netflix
