The 'one-shot' movie has become more prevalent over the years, as digital film has made such endeavours less technically fraught. While the most famous examples have some trickery (Birdman and Hitchcock's Rope had hidden edits), many filmmakers have taken on the arduous task of filming an entire movie in one take. The latest is British filmmaker Philip Barantini with Boiling Point, a drama where the camera follows the action continuously for 93 agonising minutes.

Stephen Graham stars as Andy, a well-respected but confrontational head chef at a London restaurant. After a tough personal conversation, he walks into the kitchen for what will be the most difficult night of his career. He's just been downgraded by the health inspector, almost every dish is running low, his right-hand woman Carly (Vinette Robinson) is on the brink of quitting and the doors haven't even opened yet. As the evening goes on, Andy tries to juggle the mounting pressures that threaten to ruin him.

The smarmy, patronising tones of the health inspector are enough to make your skin crawl, but it turns out to be the tip of an anxiety iceberg. Everywhere the camera goes, there seems to be a new issue exploding or a new character to dislike - a racist patron, a demanding food blogger, not to mention Andy's former boss, celebrity chef Alastair Skye (Jason Flemyng) making a surprise appearance. Anyone who doubted the stress of the service industry is thrown headfirst into a warzone, where the well-intentioned clash with the entitled, and everyone seems to be pulling in different directions.

This is not to say Barantini creates an us vs them atmosphere. Everyone has a story, and a breaking point, glimpsed in beautifully captured moments such as an embattled manager calling her father from the loo, or a pastry chef fighting back the tears after discovering something about a colleague. It's perfect chaos, a story that shows the struggle of just getting through a shift. The camera work is deceptively simple, moving elegantly back and forth from dining room to kitchen, while also managing the shifts in tone.

More impressive than the technical prowess are the performances found in every corner. Outside of the lead, Robinson's Carly is magnificent, revealing a person teetering on the edge of resignation as she chooses between her loyalty to Andy and a new opportunity. Flemyng is the perfect fly in the ointment, poking at Andy's insecurities while nursing a secret of his own.

Exchanges come thick and fast, but everyone makes it count - none more so than Graham. It would be easy to do a Gordon Ramsey impression, but Andy is something different. Coming into the story as a ball of rage, calling everyone 'love' or 'soft lad', the bravado crumbles as he realises the mess he's in. Like a boxer who knows the next punch might flatten him, Graham swerves and bargains his way through each problem, confusion and fear building behind his eyes. It's remarkable to watch, if a bit stressful.

The trouble with constantly building the stakes is that you risk going too far. The third act contains a crescendo of misfortune that's - ahem - hard to swallow, but by this point you'll be too invested to pick holes. For the most part, Boiling Point finds an exceptional story in an ordinary setting, and special performances in every frame.

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