Pons has aimed for a performance-driven drama whose virtues are of the small-scale, low-key variety, with the director working within narrow dramatic limits as always but here doing so brilliantly.

An elegant work, Food of Love is as consistently engaging as it is revealing.

Elusive and compelling.

Stevenson's performance is at once clueless and fiercely committed, a volatile combination that pays off in the best scene: the mother of all PFLAG meetings.

A reserved coming-of-age story that overcomes flat acting and one-dimensional scene-building thanks to its lively plot.

Once the excellent Rhys and Corunder are off-screen, the film's overall staginess and the inconsistent work of the supporting cast become glaringly apparent.

Tossed by successive waves of floridity and biliousness, Food of Love finally washes up on the shores of camp.

To say the least, the chemistry is lacking; equally unconvincing is the all-British cast’s attempts at American accents.

Some solid performances and pretty scenery don't do much to conceal that there's a whole heap of nothing at the core of this slight coming-of-age/coming-out tale.