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Actor, producer and director Diego Luna will direct “Ceniza en la boca” (“A Mouthful of Ash”), a film adaptation of Brenda Navarro’s novel of the same name.

The story follows Lucila, a 21-year-old young woman trying to find her place in the world while facing family pressure, misogyny and racism. Together with her younger brother, Diego, she travels to Spain to reunite with their mother, Isabel, who emigrated eight years earlier in search of a better future. Lucila’s arrival is anything but peaceful. The challenges she faces daily constantly remind her of her origins, for better or worse. This burden awakens in Lucila the need to emancipate herself, to live a life befitting her age, to stop being a surrogate mother to her brother, and to escape poorly paid jobs.

She soon realizes that reality cannot be molded to her will. Her attempts to take control of her...

Alonso Ruizpalacios established himself as a keen observer of life in Mexico beginning with feature-length directorial debut, 2014’s Güeros. Shot in luminous black and white, the shaggy dramedy abounds as much in potshots at Mexican culture as it does in homages to cinema. His subsequent films are no less playful with form, including 2021’s docudrama A Cop Movie, a galvanizing portrait of police work that subverted genre conventions.

Ruizpalacios’s fourth feature, La Cocina, which premiered at the Berlinale earlier this year, isn’t set in Mexico, but many of its characters hail from the director’s country of origin, and their immigrant dreams are as much the subject here as the exploitative nature of capitalism. The film, based on Arnold Wesker’s 1957 play The Kitchen, is set almost entirety in a Times Square restaurant, and it finds Ruizpalacios tackling political issues from a personal perspective.

At the start of the film,...

Set at a restaurant that caters to tourists in Times Square, Alonso Ruizpalacios’s La Cocina, adapted from Arnold Wesker’s 1957 play The Kitchen, revolves around Pedro (Raúl Briones), an undocumented Mexican line cook, and Julia (Rooney Mara), a white American working front of house. When $800 goes missing from the till, triggering an investigation by restaurant management, their love story derails. Throughout, Ruizpalacios allows the Grill to be both exactly what it is—a specific workplace with its own Kitchen Confidential-style rituals and pecking order—and a microcosm of American capitalism. “American” in the broadest sense since, as Pedro reminds us, “America is not a country.”

In an important scene, the Grill’s second-generation Mexican American manager, Luis (Eduardo Olmos), is interrogating Pedro, whom he suspects of having stolen the money to pay for the abortion that Julia wants and, coincidentally, would cost $800. While the intransigent line cook sidesteps Luis...

It was when Alonso Ruizpalacios was in London working as a dishwasher at the (now-extinct) Rainforest Cafe that he came up with the idea for La Cocina.

“I was a drama student and I’d just read the [1957] play The Kitchen by Arnold Wesker and to make the work — which is tough, monotonous and very, very hard — bearable, I’d look at it through the creative lens of the play. If you see how a kitchen works, you realize it is much like the world, like [how] society works. Wesker says for Shakespeare all the world is a stage, whereas for him all the world is a kitchen.”

It was decades later, after success with Mexican films like Museo and A Cop Movie, that Ruizpalacios came back to the idea, taking The Kitchen as the jumping-off point for his English-language debut, transferring the action from late-’50s London to modern-day New York.

If “the kitchen as war zone” has become a veritable sub-genre unto itself, Alonso Ruizpalacios’ “La Cocina” is the closest thing it has to its own “Gallipoli.” The trenches are made out of stainless steel instead of rotten wood, and the steady bombardment of orders comes with a greater threat of deportation than it does that of immediate death, but a job at The Grill just outside of Times Square is no less dehumanizing than a deployment along the frontlines at Suvla Bay, and it comes without any of the same hope for glory.

On the contrary, the soul-crushing system that compels undocumented immigrants to do this kind of work depends upon keeping them out of sight; not only from Ice, but also from the tourists who can only enjoy their rubber-fried lunch because they don’t have to look at the labor that went into making it. Capitalism is...

There’s a surging life force felt in every scene of Alonso Ruizpalacios’ superbly acted La Cocina — at times ebullient but more often on edge, if not careening dangerously toward disaster or violence. Think The Bear on cocaine with a Red Bull chaser and you get some idea of the sustained intensity and simmering pressure of this bruising tragicomedy about what the diners (mostly) don’t see during a working day in a busy Times Square restaurant.

The Mexican writer-director has style to burn, evident in the intoxicatingly textured black-and-white visuals, the livewire editing and the striking use of music, from solemn choral pieces to cacophonous jazz. Even if he takes too long wrapping up an overwrought climactic crescendo, this is a compelling vision of the immigrant experience as a hellish limbo in which even the seeming ballast of community, brotherhood and love can be illusory.

In his previous films Güeros,...