There are many weird things regarding the rules of storytelling and one of them is tied to the concept of reality. Unless one is dealing with space wizards and laser swords, orcs and elves, a certain adherence to what is and isn’t possible anchors a tale. Our fears and our anxieties — in essence, our imagination — is what make stories feel extraordinary even at their most ordinary because the likelihood that you’re going to come across a silent slasher, cannibal clown, or even a roving pistolero is minimal. The feeding ground, then, for crafting a tale of thrills, bloodshed, and woe, may be constructed within the confines of reality, but, if cleverly structured, can escalate to places audiences would never suspect, creating an exhilarating ride that makes one wonder where the truth begins and fabrication ends. Such is the case with co-directors Stephen Helstad (Designing the Westin London City) and Edd Benda (Superior) and their film, darkly comic crime thriller Chili Finger, screening during The Overlook Film Festival 2026, which borrows from real life as it presents a tale in which escalation is the same as survival and survival is testament number one.
Jess Lipkis (Judy Greer) is having a rough day. First, she and husband Ron (Sean Astin) drop off their only daughter, Kris (Shaya Harris), to fly off to start college. Then, Jess gets harangued by a few clients who can’t pay their tab after she settles their case. Though Ron seems totally fine, Jess can’t handle the way things are, so she insists they go out to eat at Blake Junior’s. That’s when things get worse: her first bite of chili has a finger in it. Or, did they just get better?
Screenwriter Helstad borrows from the real-life 2005 Wendy’s incident and, frankly, if you don’t know, don’t click the link to find out the details as it will color your experience with Chili Finger (but being a good film critic, one does need to cite sources). The smartest thing that Helstad does is borrow just enough from the real event to create a skeleton and then go off from there. Grounding the movie in the real story and venturing into fiction after that allows for the freedom of surprise to happen throughout regardless of what one’s baseline of information is regarding the truth. The second smartest thing is that the answer as to the providence of the chili finger is less important than the choices the characters make once the finger is found by Jess. It’s here that Chili Finger becomes possessed by the energy of Sam Raimi (A Simple Plan) and the Coen Brothers (Fargo; Raising Arizona) in that the characters are mostly grounded, the setups are natural, and the outcomes would be ludicrous if not for the grave circumstances that follow each choice. Even though Chili Finger is positively stacked with an incredible cast, if Helstad and Benda had put together a group of talented unknowns, the film itself would be gripping enough with the murky waters it navigates and the creeping terror of consequences that audiences would (and should) line up to see this dark comedy go down. However, as Helstad and Benda opted to instead put together a collection of established and new talent, audiences are given an absolute gift as we observe what happens when greed outweighs fear of disclosure.
L-R: Sean Astin and Judy Greer in CHILI FINGER. Photo Credit: Cristina Dunlap. Photo courtesy of The Overlook Film Festival.
Admittedly, one of the big reasons that Chili Finger has that Coen energy is the presence of one John Goodman, a brilliant actor who has worked with the Coens on several projects such as Raising Arizona (1987), Barton Fink (1991), and O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000). Goodman is capable of projecting joy and lightness as easily as menace and terror, often from one scene to another, depending on narrative need. Though Goodman isn’t a major player within the film for the majority, his Blake Jr. I is visible on any and all restaurant merch and remains significant in the advertisement of the company that his daughter, Blake Jr. II (Madeline Wise), now runs. For audiences who are aware of Goodman’s filmography, one immediately starts tittering at the possibilities of where Helstad and Benda’s film may go and it is a dark-tinged beauty. Likewise, the inclusion of Bryan Cranston who’s been a part of projects from Mighty Morphin Power Rangers (1993) (voice of Zordon) to Malcom in the Middle (2000 – 2006) to his voice work in various animated projects and, of course, Breaking Bad, brings to Chili Finger a sense of delightful unpredictability, and not in a heightened, “teetering on the edge of insanity” way, but as measured and grounded, using reason where one might expect cruelty or violence from such a supportive character within a narrative, as Cranston’s Dave meets the moment of the scene. Having played heavies in the past, Cranston manages to exude control and confidence without choosing violence first while also demonstrating a figure who isn’t without the capacity for it. For his part, Astin brings the assured, neighborly energy one expects from the former Goonie, channeling an essence that is in direct opposition to Greer’s Jess from the first moment we meet them. Astin manages to infuse Ron with a necessary strength that the film requires in order to convey the notion that things could always be ok if one chooses to do the right thing, even when it’s hard. Conversely, Greer (Aporia; The Long Walk) takes center stage as she’s in near every single scene, portraying a figure wherein what should be easy is the hardest thing she’s ever had to do. Given her own lengthy filmography, one easily believes the emotion of the moment, whether Greer’s Jess is drowning in sorrow at her daughter leaving for college, swallowing her pride when dealing with ungrateful clients, or using her lawyer brain to try to get ahead of the latest shit storm. It’s the kind of performance that has audiences screaming at the screen to make a different choice, aghast at each outcome, and unable to look away.
What’s particularly interesting about Chili Finger is that there’s a big argument for motivation being related to finance, but a more compelling interpretation is that Helstad actually uses the complexity of parenthood as a motivation for everything the characters do. After the incident upon which the titular finger is separated from its host body, the audience is introduced to the Lipkises as they say goodbye to Kris; Blake Jr. I is struggling with taking a backseat to Blake Jr. II; and a third couple (to remain nameless for now) is expecting. Parents are an instrumental part of a child’s growth and development and, like it or not, they will leave. This may be controversial, but a parent’s job is to make it so that a child can function without them, but that parent needs to acknowledge this is their role. It’s important, but it’s temporary and the struggle to accept the parent’s role as observer past a certain point of development creates the opportunity for frustration, resentment, and, ultimately, violence that serves as the recipe for Chili Finger. By observing this as Helstad’s narrative propulsion, the comedic crime thriller becomes even more tragic in the post mortem.
Reality blows. Truly and completely. It’s filled with individuals who rarely get the comeuppance they deserve, which is why fiction is often so satisfying. What Helstad and Benda concoct in their cinematic kitchen, however, satisfies not by giving audiences the satisfaction they desire, but by exploring only as much as they need to before things escalate again. Most deliciously, the script manages to find its way to circle back around from the start, giving the film a sensation of inevitability that’s both cosmic and entirely human-prepared. Between all of this and a cast ready to play, Chili Fingers deserves a spot on your menu. Or, at the very least, to be included in a crime comedy sampler.
Screening during The Overlook Film Festival 2026.
For more information, head to the official The Overlook Film Festival Chili Finger webpage.
Final Score: 4 out of 5.
Share this:
Categories: In Theaters, Reviews
Leave a Reply