The Menu (2022)

Starring: Ralph Fiennes, Anya Taylor-Joy, Nicholas Hoult, John Leguizamo, and Aimee Carrero
Grade: A-

This might be the first movie in a while that has piqued my interest enough to start researching “The Black List” more to see what other unproduced screenplay gems are still floating around Hollywood. After watching The Menu, you can’t help but ask how this wasn’t made as soon as humanly possible. What other innovative stories have we been deprived of for whatever reason?

Summary

Margot (Taylor-Joy) sparks up a cigarette waiting for a boat with her foodie boyfriend Tyler Ledford (Hoult). They are about to go to a highly exclusive restaurant that is hard to get into. Right away, Tyler advises her not to smoke because it will kill her palette, but she doesn’t care. He stresses the importance of the night, how the flavor profile is super delicate, and how you can ruin your appreciation for the food by smoking. After his pleading, she relents and puts it out. The boat shows up, and it’s a bit small, though there will only be 12 of them going to the restaurant so the size will work. It costs $1250 ahead of time to go, so this is a major deal for those interested and willing to pay. Tyler is one of these people and he paid for the both of them. On the other hand, Margot isn’t the foodie he is and is just along for the ride. As the boat docks, the other customers start to show up like business partners Soren (Arturo Castro), Dave (Mark St. Cyr), and Bryce (Rob Yang), and Richard (Reed Birney) and Anne Liebbrandt (Judith Light). Margot recognizes the latter couple and is startled by their inclusion. Once Lillian Bloom (Janet McTeer) shows up, Tyler is in shock, though Margot has no idea who she is. Apparently, she is a food critic for Saveur and discovered the famed chef heading up the restaurant, Julian Slowik (Fiennes). With this, Tyler is sure this night is going to be “madness”.

Madness will be an understatement.

Before the boat takes off to Hawthorne Island, the island where the restaurant is that Slowik owns, the last two customers arrive. They are washed-up movie star George Diaz (Leguizamo) and his assistant Felicity Lynn (Aimee Carrero). Diaz tries to make a joke to Soren, Dave, and Bryce, but they barely respond to it, though they do recognize him. Inside the cabin, Margot and Tyler talk about Diaz before they are given their first meal to try from Slowik. It’s a raw local oyster in a mignonette emulsion, with lemon caviar and an oyster leaf. Before Margot goes to grab it, Tyler taps her hand away so he can take a picture. Once they quickly eat it, they both agree it’s good, though Tyler is more impressed than she is. In fact, Margot prefers the oyster by itself. Immediately, Tyler defends Slowik’s decision and disagrees with her, saying that it’s the balance of the products and you need the mouthfeel of the mignonette. The boat arrives to Hawthorne Island and all the customers check in with Elsa (Hong Chau). When Tyler walks up with Margot, he is asked by Elsa if they are “Mr. Ledford and Miss Westervelt”, but he has to correct her on the change as “Miss Westervelt” couldn’t make it. It’s a bit awkward and Elsa side-eyes them both. Even so, she lets them in. After Tyler apologizes to Margot for the awkward encounter, Margot looks back to see the boat driving away. Besides the Leibbrandt couple, Elsa takes everyone on a tour of Hawthorne Island. It comprises 12 acres of forest and pasture, the sea surrounds them, and they’re harvesting scallops there that they will eat that night. On the shore as Elsa says this, Diaz is excited by prospect of fresh scallops, as well as some of the attention he’s getting from the business guys. Because of this, he tries to be the life of the party with some joking around. At the same time, Lillian Bloom tells her assistant Ted Feldman (Paul Adelstein) how she likes the idea of everything being a sort of “biome of culinary ideas”.

Being the “Yes man” that he is, Ted agrees and calls it an “epicurean salon”. Lillian likes her use of “biome” better though and corrects him, so he automatically agrees with it being the better choice.

The tour continues, and we see all the fresh ingredients riddled throughout the compound. As Diaz tells the others how he’s close personal friends with the chef, Elsa goes on about how their smokehouse is in the Nordic tradition, and they use the meat of dairy cows only, which they age for 152 days to relax the protein strands. As they look inside the smokehouse, Dave sarcastically asks if all hell would break loose if they served it on the 153rd day, but Elsa explains that the “bacteria would introduce itself to the consumer’s bloodstream and spread into their spinal membranes after which point, he or she would become incapacitated and shortly thereafter expire”. So, Dave is right in a way. Next, Elsa shows the group where all the workers live, except for Slowik. It’s a series of beds not unlike an army barracks, with lockers on the other side. Despite the appearance of the building, she insists they are family here. Each day starts at 6AM with five hours of prep work. They harvest, ferment, slaughter, marinate, liquefy, spherify, and gel. Margot softly questions the “gel” part of her speech to Tyler, and Elsa notices and doubles down louder. Moving on, Elsa says dinner is typically 4 hours and 25 minutes and each day ends at well past 2AM, so it makes sense for them to live there. Elsa is almost offended at Soren questioning if they ever get burned out and promises that since Slowik holds himself to the highest standard, they do as well and have no problem with it. Elsa moves the group along to finally get some food. On the way, Tyler spots a cottage and asks Elsa what it is. It’s Slowik’s cottage so Tyler wants to see it, but the workers aren’t even allowed to view it, let alone the customers. Finally, the group enters the restaurant. As soon as Richard Liebbrandt sees Margot, he tells his wife to switch seats with him. Elsa approaches Margot, who reveals her last name to be Mills, and tells Margot she will be sitting in Miss Westervelt’s seat.

Elsa invites the customers to observe the cooks as they “innovate” in the kitchen, but she tells them to refrain from photographing the dishes as Chef Slowik “strongly feels that the beauty in his creations lies in their ephemeral nature”. Not wanting to miss the opportunity to watch the cooks, Tyler brings Margot over to the kitchen. To look like he knows what he’s talking about, he asks a cook if he used a pacojet for the dish he’s working on, and the guy confirms it. Tyler turns to Margot and explains how a pacojet can produce a powderized, snow-like texture. He’s got one. Overhearing their conversation, the cook gives Tyler credit for knowing his stuff. Strangely enough, he knows Tyler’s name, which perplexes Tyler, though it’s apparently because they know everyone who dines with them. Once Tyler asks about Slowik, the cook firmly asks him to take his seat because they are about to start serving, so he does. Margot and Tyler sit down just as Slowik pops into the kitchen. Elsa inaudibly tells Slowik something, and he stares daggers at Tyler and Margot. They look back at him too and can feel something is wrong.

Amuse Bouche

It all starts with an amuse bouche with compressed and pickled cucumber melon, milk snow, and charred lace. Lillian and Ted analyze the food with each bite thinking there is a hint of goat, Felicity attempts a goodbye toast to Diaz because she’s quitting but he keeps interrupting, and Elsa aggressively grabs Margot’s coat from her seat and puts it away. Soren admits that him and Amanda aren’t doing well and it’s his fault, but he laughs it off and Bryce and Dave openly agree they’re all about work and money. As Diaz argues with Felicity because he doesn’t want her to quit, Margot asks about Tyler’s love for food. He compares it to people idolizing athletes, musicians, and painters. Calling other people stupid for idolizing those people because they do stuff that “doesn’t matter”, he explains that chefs “play with the raw materials of life itself and death itself”. Adding on to this, he’s watched every episode of Chef’s Table two or three times, and he’s watched Slowik’s 20 times. Furthermore, he passionately talks about watching Slowik explain the exact moment a green strawberry is perfectly unripe and him plating a raw scallop during its last dying contraction of muscle. Tyler considers it “art on the edge of the abyss, which is where God works too. It’s the same”. Margot appreciates his noted passion in how he describes it.

First Course

After Slowik taste tests a soup from one of his cooks and confirms it being “okay” and the cooks finish putting the garnishes on their next dish, Slowik goes in front of the guests and claps once. The cooks stop on a dime and all the customers stop to pay attention, with Margot being noticeably startled. Once he begins his speech, the cooks go back to preparing the food. Slowik goes on and asks his guests not to eat but rather tase, savor, relish, “consider every morsel that you place inside your mouth”, and to be mindful. He doesn’t want people to just eat because their menu is too precious for that. The first course is called “The Island”. On each plate are plants from around the island placed on rocks from the shore and covered in barely frozen, filtered seawater which will flavor the dish as it melts. When Tyler tries to whisper to Margot that this was what the guy was fishing for earlier, Slowik is bothered by the interruption and stops his speech. An embarrassed Tyler apologizes, and Slowik says its fine before confirming that they are in fact the same scallops. Going on, he refers to himself and the people on this island as unimportant. The island and the nutrients it provides exist in their most perfect state without them gathering them, manipulating them, or digesting them. He adds on that whatever happens inside this room is meaningless compared to what happens outside in nature in the soil, in the water, in the air. Tyler looks emotional during this part of the speech and is enamored at every word spoken. After Slowik finishes with “Nature is timeless”, he lets them enjoy the food. Margot isn’t too impressed but looks over to see Tyler wiping away tears because he was so moved. He considers the food almost too beautiful to eat, taking a picture after he says it.

Margot tries to bring up a story about the nicest restaurant in her hometown, but Tyler cuts Margot off to ask her if she thinks Slowik is mad at him for the scallops thing. He kind of wants Slowik to like him and he’s feeling quite insecure about what had transpired. It doesn’t help that Margot points out that it doesn’t matter whether he likes Tyler or not because he’s a paying customer who is paying Slowik to serve them. The two are served wine. Lillian tells Ted that the meal is only “half-great”. It’s there in moments, there’s a neediness to the plating, “it’s been tweezered to fuck”, but the flavors are there, it’s clean, and “thalassic”. Even Ted isn’t sure what thalassic means, so she explains it’s oceanic basically, as Thalassa was the primeval spirit of the sea. Ted is reminded of Thalassa and Pontus and agrees with Lillian that they are “eating the ocean”. Diaz simply states to Felicity the food is good, but she reminds him to embellish since he’s supposed to be setting up a potential travel food show he’s pitching on Monday to three streaming services. He talks about it sarcastically to her before going back to eating, and she knows he’s got nothing. At the other table, Soren tells Bryce and Dave how he’s had shellfish just as good with his chef Ricardo, and he’s cool with just being able to tell people they’ve been here. Richard comments to Anne that the dish looks like suburban landscaping, and she tries to make small talk, but neither are interested in the conversation. Slowik observes Tyler and Margot again before yelling at his cooks that he wants plating ready in five minutes.

Second Course

With another loud singular clap, Slowik gets all the customers’ attention to make his next speech. He speaks of bread having existed in some form for 12,000 years, and how it’s for the common man. However, since they aren’t the common man, they don’t get any. Instead, they are given a breadless bread plate consisting of savory accompaniments, which are a series of small dips. Along with it is a description of where the bread they aren’t eating came from. Everyone balks at this. Diaz likes it. Lillian is intrigued but can’t help but notice the emulsion is slightly split. Lying through his teeth, Ted says he noticed it as soon as it came down, and Lillian doubles down, arguing that you shouldn’t see this in a restaurant of this quality. On the other hand, Tyler is enthralled with it and loves how Slowik weaves in historical allegories. Apparently, the real game is trying to guess the overarching theme of the entire meal, which they won’t know until the end. Margot thinks Slowik is insulting them with this dish, but Tyler argues that he’s just telling a story, which is a big part of his presentation. Additionally, he states that Slowik doesn’t give a fuck about the rules, though Margot counters that he should give a fuck about some of them, like serving food at a restaurant. As Lillain tells Ted she makes her own rustic and yeasty bread at home, Elsa interrupts with a big bowl of one of the liquids referring to it as “another broken emulsion” courtesy of Slowik. Slowik and Lillian exchange eye contact, acknowledging that he heard her criticism. Elsa goes over to Soren’s table to see if everything is okay, but Bryce asks for actual bread. She simply tells him “No”. All three men try to pull the whole “Do you know who we are” card and how they work with Doug Verrick, but Elsa corrects them and says they work for Doug Verrick. She again refuses to serve them bread. Then, she fixes Soren’s napkin before whispering in his ear, “You will eat less than you desire and more than you deserve”.

Margot doesn’t want to eat hers, so Tyler reaches over to grab her plate, accidentally knocking a wine glass to the floor and breaking it in the process. Slowik walks over to their table and pressures Margot to eat, which she slyly responds that he told them not to eat. He doesn’t appreciate it and goes on about how she won’t fill up because he designed the menu that way and the menu only makes sense if she eats. She acknowledges his concerns but doesn’t give in, saying she’s fully capable of deciding what she wants to eat. Fuming, he walks off without saying a word back to her, and Tyler is humiliated. Margot doesn’t care, stating aloud that Slowik is a prick. Slowik goes over to an old woman sitting by herself, leans over to her, and then goes to the kitchen to tell the cooks they are to plate in three minutes.

Third Course

After the sommelier pours some more wine, Margot looks back again at Richard and Anne’s table. Anne thinks she looks like Claire, and they may know her, but Richard is adamant they don’t. Diaz is still in denial of Felicity leaving him for a better job, but she is. She’s in line for associate development co-exec. Once she mentions how there’s a future there compared to working for Diaz, he gets a bit offended. Just then, Slowik gets everyone’s attention for the next course to which he refers to as “memory”, as that what it’s meant to evoke. He talks about how “Taco Tuesday” was a big thing growing up in Waterloo, Iowa and points out his drunken mother, the old lady he was speaking to at the end of the second course. When Slowik was 7 years old on one Tuesday, his father came home quite drunk, a regular occurrence. His mother was angry and screamed at his father, so he responded by choking her with a telephone cord. A young Slowik cried and begged him to stop, but he could only get him to do so by stabbing him in the thigh with kitchen scissors. As he says this, the cooks stab a small pair of scissors in their meal. Slowik admits he should’ve stabbed his father in the throat, but he chalks it up to not being too smart when you’re young. Everyone’s a little started but Lillian and Diaz admire the presentation. The meal is served. It’s a house smoked bresse chicken thigh al pastor and their own tortillas made with heirloom masa, one of Hawthorne’s signature dishes. They change their menu constantly, but this has been a staple since day one, with Slowik stating that Lillian knows this very well as it put him on the map, which she says aloud for the other customers to hear. After wondering what map that may be, he looks over at Diaz while stating, “Anyways, because we’re always innovating, and we fear irrelevance…” before talking about how the tortillas have images on them made from a laser-engraving machine.

It’s the first time they’ve used it, and he hopes this taco night evokes strong memories for them all.

Lillian looks at her tortillas and finds that the pictures are all restaurants she reviewed that closed. Anne finds that hers and Richard’s tortillas are all pictures about them. One says, “Happy Anniversary” and another is a picture of Richard after he had the melanoma removed from his forehead. Tyler’s are of him taking photos of the food from that very night. Tyler realizes Slowik hates him and considers apologizing, but Margot balks at this. Diaz’s is a movie poster for his old film Calling Doctor Sunshine. He admits it was a bad movie, but he had fun and Felicity laughs it off, saying it was probably a joke since Diaz is friends with Slowik. Based off his reaction to her comment though, it looks like he overplayed how good of friends he is with Slowik. Soren, Dave, and Bryce see their records on wire transfers to accounts they have at the Cayman Islands. Bryce calls over Elsa to demand an explanation, and she is happy to tell them that their tortillas consist of Echobrite’s tax records and other documents showing how their company has created invoices with fake charges. When he asks how they got them, Elsa says Slowik never reveals his recipes. Soren threatens to have the place closed down by the morning, but she calmly responds with how it won’t be necessary. Anne picks up a tortilla showing Richard with some random woman at a table and him denying the validity of it. Dave tells Soren and Bryce they have plausible deniability. If they turn them in, they’d be turning in Verrick, so they should be safe. Tyler is trying to figure out how to make things right, but Margot wants to send it back to make a statement. He snaps at her because of how hard it was to even get a reservation and how they should be thanking them for letting them in the door, calling her a child in the process. She demands an apology, but he refuses, reminding her he’s paying for everything. He takes a bite of his food and can’t believe how good it is and tells her she has to try it, but she’s put off and excuses herself from the table.

She goes down the hallway and stops at a silver door, and Elsa appears and points out the bathroom to her when she asks. When she inquires what’s behind the silver door, Elsa calmly says it’s something special. Going into a stall, Margot opens a window to smoke a cigarette and sees a worker holding angel wings in the distance. Next, Slowik walks into the bathroom and demands to know what she didn’t like about the last course and why she hasn’t been eating because he takes his work very seriously. She doesn’t care to respond, so he asks who she is. She reveals her name and how she’s from Grand Island, Nebraska. He again asks who she is, and now she’s getting pissed. He tells her she shouldn’t be there tonight, but she rebuffs him and tells him to get the fuck out of her way. Finally, he relents and moves.

It turns out, he was right. She should not be there.

Fourth Course

The cooks prepare a white sheet on the ground in front of the guests, and Slowik looks right over at Margot, who stares back, before getting everyone else’s attention with another clap. Just as he starts to talk, Soren interrupts to ask what is going on, but he tells Soren to let him finish. Slowik brings out sous-chef Jeremy Louden (Adam Aalderks). Jeremy created “The Mess”, which is the next dish. Originally from Sparks, Nevada, Jeremy studied at the culinary institute in Hyde Park. He wrote in a heartfelt letter that his goal was to work for Slowik at Hawthorne. Slowik admits Jeremy is good but not great. According to Slowik, he will never be great. He wants Slowik’s prestige, job, talent, and he aspires to greatness, but he will never achieve it. He asks Jeremy if he’s correct, and Jeremy concurs. Adding to this, Slowik talks about how Jeremy, like him at his age, has forsaken everything to achieve his goals. It’s pressure to put out the best food in the world. Even if everything is perfect, there is no way to avoid “The mess”. Here, he is referring to the mess you make of your life, body, and sanity, by giving everything you have to pleasing people you will never know. Slowik asks Jeremy if he likes this life that he’s dreamed about, and Jeremy admits he doesn’t. He asks if Jeremy wants his life. Slowik doesn’t mean his position or talent, just his life. He doesn’t. Slowik kisses him on both cheeks, a curtain is put up behind him, and Slowik presents “The Mess”. With this, Jeremy pulls out a pistol and shoots himself in front of everyone.

Naturally, everyone is in shock, but Slowik tells everyone this is part of the show. However, everyone is arguing if it’s real or not. In reality, it very much is. All of it and what is to come is all a part of Slowik’s twisted menu.

My Thoughts:

The Menu is one of the most refreshingly unconventional movies mainstream cinema has given us in quite some time. Unafraid to be bold in its dark approach without losing its excitement and humor, the under-the-radar film is a well-conceived and multifaceted movie that manages to crossover into several different genres exceptionally without having to sacrifice its vision to align with the standards we have grown accustomed to. Technically, it’s a black comedy horror film, but it’s more than that. It’s too versatile to be boxed in as either/or, as these two labels come with a lot of preconceived notions and can turn people away from it. Don’t be that guy. The Menu is suspenseful, eerie, engrossing, twist-filled but not without reason, surprisingly amusing, and it succeeds on all accounts because of its commitment to its off-the-wall narrative that is both highly entertaining and fulfilling.

Strangely enough, it’s like dinner and a show.

All of the unexplained anxious feelings the viewer gets right from the opening and the intrigue in the story that it inspires is rooted directly to the secretive Hawthorne Island and the mysterious Chef Julian Slowik. By the time Slowik graces the screen after only getting tidbits of his acumen beforehand, his presence already carries weight, which is a testament to the meticulous screenplay of Seth Reiss and Will Tracy. It gets to the point that when he claps his hands together, we find ourselves sitting up straight to not offend him. It’s the work of a great antagonist and a wonderful performance, as acting great Ralph Fiennes plays the role with a cunning and understated viciousness with every soft-spoken word of intent. In an era of cinema where villains have a tendency to become antiheroes for those who feel wronged in their everyday lives, extra care is given to make sure the vengeful Slowik still remains firmly on the antagonist side. His reasoning for this evening in hell makes sense, as the Bratislava native has had enough of building up his reputation to serve only the wealthiest of people that cannot be satisfied, even putting his mother into this category. Along with this, he uncovers other reasons for collecting this group of people that range from fathomable to the unfathomable, with the latter’s being Diaz acting in a bad comedy which Slowik chalks up to an artist losing his purpose and Diaz’s assistant Felicity being unfairly a throw-in and Slowik coming up with a reason on the spot (not having to pay student loans, which was hilarious). With the ultra-serious Slowik, food is his life’s work, but he constantly deals with people like Soren, Dave, and Bryce who eat whatever and talk aloud about how it’s decent, but they can at least say they’ve been there, which is more important to them. He goes down the line, and you start to understand why he has unraveled to the point of wanting revenge on everyone and everything. For instance, he admits he enabled Lillian’s work as a critic because it helped him get started but her job in general destroys livelihoods, as her pretentious opinion holds weight when it shouldn’t.

Lillian’s job and the job of a food critic has taken the love he has from his only passion, something he hasn’t had since his younger days, and it’s not fair because her work isn’t as genuine as it seems. Throughout, it starts to feel like she’s overly critical for content and to be looked at by the public as someone who needs to be impressed to only further her own reputation rather than appreciating great food. Basically, she’s full of shit and Slowik is tired with her getting away with it. He only proves this part of her personality by telling the room his invitation fed her ego enough to come out to Hawthorne. Then, he moves on to detail his feelings of disrespect by the Liebbrandt couple for going to Hawthorne Island eleven times over five years but not being able to name a single dish because they don’t value the time and expert care he gives to his food. As we peak into his warped sense of reality, Slowik reaching his breaking point is starting to make sense, but it’s just as teaser. Just as we start to get where he’s coming from, the firm stance of his madness is made in his capture of “angel investor” and owner of the island and restaurant in Doug Verrick because Verrick questioned his menu and would request substitutes despite this not being a practice at Hawthorne. It never mattered that Verrick kept Slowik open during Covid. Slowik is broken and has now internalized every slight that has ever happened to him, with this being the breaking point, and will take out his fury on everyone there while thinking everyone is getting exactly what they deserve in doing so. After Verrick is pulled underwater and drowned, Slowik states calmly after having everyone listen to the silence, “I’m free”. This is when the terror officially sets in with everyone. This will be a horrifying night to remember, and all eyes are on Margot, the one who is DEFINITELY not supposed to be there. There’s that and the whole interaction with sous-chef Katherine setting up the next game while detailing her backstory with an apologetic but militant Slowik. I won’t spoil it, but it’s quite the tone-setter that still keeps thing wildly amusing.

Remember, the food is not to eat in the reputable chef’s mind. It’s to taste, savor, and consider every morsel of food as you place it inside your mouth. It’s not just a speech or monologue Slowik prepares for the uncaring, it’s his last-ditch effort plea for those who don’t comprehend its art and his dedication to it. Most viewers will listen and roll their eyes like Margot does because this passion for food doesn’t exist in a lot of people. We all like food or call ourselves “foodies” because we saw the term in a few videos on Instagram, but being a true and authentic food connoisseur is the only way to appreciate Slowik’s work. It’s what separates Tyler from everyone else to the point where it becomes a turn-off to Margot. Then again, Slowik may see through this as well. No matter what dish he puts out there, Tyler’s strangle-worthy behavior reaches a fever pitch after he acts like each, and every dish is the most amazing thing he’s ever tasted and speaks of it like he’s an expert himself. He’s not a chef or a foodie. Sure, he watches the shows on television and is a huge fan of it, but it’s all fluff that someone like Slowik can see through. Though he doesn’t realize it until he’s asked to actually cook something himself (“Tyler’s bullshit– undercooked lamb, inedible shallot-leek butter sauce; utter lack of cohesion“), Tyler is a total wannabe who doesn’t quite get it like he thinks he does. Despite his enthusiasm, the MLK quoting Slowik sees the insincerity and feels disrespected by this too, and it’s quite the development when he targets Tyler in an anxiety-riddled sequence in the kitchen that puts all the attention on him (“You are why the mystery has been drained from our art. You see that now, don’t you?”). Tyler is almost an allegory for the social media “fans” who criticize and critique every aspect of the arts and entertainment fields while telling anyone who will listen how they can do it better or talk about what they should have done in hindsight. When they’re actually put to the test like Tyler and his obsession with high class food and the artistry of the chefs who prepare the dishes, he crumbles because he’s never actually done it.

The internet clowns might not like it, but the full of shit character is spot-on.

I won’t spoil anything because it’s a turning point of the movie, but Tyler’s role in the story is the most shocking revelation of the film, more than any murder, and it’s handled expertly by rising star Nicholas Hoult. Not only does he deserve major credit for his agitating performance in The Menu, but how red hot he is right now. His agent has really put him in a position to succeed by getting him in a lot of great projects over the years, and he’s on one hell of a run because of it. The same can be said for Anya Taylor-Joy who plays the role of the most sane, down-to-earth person in the room who isn’t going to back down to disrespect akin to Slowik himself. During the buildup of the first act, the story is structured in a way that you’re unsure of who to follow until it happens, and this slow-burn in revealing Margot as the protagonist is just as unexpected as some of the twists in the narrative. She carries herself well, especially against the strong personality of Fiennes’s Slowik and she wins the audience over by refusing to compromise when everyone else shutters in fear. I’m surprised with how much I enjoyed it. In a world where everyone either accepts their fate, cries about their position, or half-commits to finding a solution, the character of Margot is one who will find a solution. She can fail but that doesn’t mean she will give up. She adapts, and that’s the mark of a great protagonist who we only know so much about throughout the running time. Considering her career path, the strong-willed Margot is a survivor and isn’t afraid to face hardships. Knowing this, she’s strangely enough the perfect person to get behind. By the time she’s the one who stands up and daringly claps before going on her rant (“I don’t like your food, and I would like to send it back”), you get chills. It’s a star-making moment, and it only gets better with the give-and-take standoff with her and Slowik in the climax.

With the supporting cast, John Leguizamo deserves credit for fully understanding the assignment as the washed-up movie star. The desire for attention but acting like he doesn’t, the name-dropping of people like Slowik even though he doesn’t know him, and him going out of his way to try and be funny to get a little notoriety from the others are all done exceedingly well. He makes the most out of his inclusion in the ensemble. The trio of Soren, Dave, and Bryce was a little one-dimensional, as their on-the-nose lines of talking about how working and making money is more important than everything was a little too obvious in its approach to say we shouldn’t like them. Much like how easy it is to like Margot, who essentially plays the role of the viewer by just being herself, we can see the pretentiousness and douchebaggery from a mile away with the other customers. It doesn’t mean anything should be toned down, but some of the lines coming out of those three assclowns were a little too dumbed down for us to understand what side of the pond they’re on. Believe me, we know they’re sacks of shit. At the same time, food critic Lillian Bloom was great in its writing and Janet McTeer’s performance. It’s as if we knew everything about her from start to finish without ever having to meet her in person. Ted being her little suckass “Yes man” was icing on the cake. I loved it when Ted even had to go out of his way to agree with her when she asks for a confirmation that they’re going to die.

On a side note, an annoyed Slowik rolling his eyes to the oblivious Tyler who asks if he’s tasting bergamot amidst Slowik’s hellfire speech, and he’s responds, “Yes it is” before going back to the main issue at hand was a great sample of some of the underrated humor in this black comedy.

The Menu prides itself in its unpredictability, but the twists the story takes with sous-chef Jeremy killing himself was seen a mile away. With the way the story is structured, how it looks, the seething eyes of Slowik who is holding back on his unlikable guests, and the eerie aura coming from the workers at this disclosed location, everything is built to foreshadow the evening and the real reason they are there, with Slowik playing the role of judge and jury, and his employees being the executioners. This wasn’t particularly shocking. This could be me just watching too many movies and getting a good feel for what the director is trying to tease with minimalist conversation and the small insight into the personalities of each member of the ensemble, but it could be that it’s not as geared to be a shock value film as one might think. Once we get into the initial shock of someone dying, which again is felt in the energy of the scene before it happens, the rest of the movie does make sense from the point of view of its world-building. Even so, this doesn’t take away from the narrative at all. It’s here where the story takes shape, and we are even more invested from that point on. Additionally, Margot being the one outlier who isn’t supposed to be there (“This menu, this guest list, this entire evening has been painstakingly planned, and you were not a part of that plan, and its spoiling everything”) adds a lot of intrigue from that point on. For a person that doesn’t seek out horror too often, The Menu succeeds because it only plays with the genre while maintaining its focus on the unorthodox story, the well-done suspense, especially after the training wheels are taken off, and the character arcs and their intertwining stories first and foremost.

They did lose me a little with Slowik allowing Margot to get the barrel from the smokehouse. Why give her a responsibility to help him out? What has she done for him to trust her? Considering they both know she was never intended to be there and is tough-minded already with all of their previous interactions with him and the staff, which include refusing to eat his breadless bread plate in the Second Course, it’s an unnecessary risk and kind of stupid for such an intelligent bad guy. If he makes it known that they’re all dying no matter what, why open up an opportunity for someone who has nothing lose? You had to have known why this would be trouble. Even after analyzing things further, I cannot come up with a motivation for why Slowik would give Margot such a chance. At most, he tells her can join his side but still die or die with the others. There is no benefit. With this in mind, why give the outlier a shot at coming up with a potential gameplan and strategizing in the forest? Literally, my first thought in that situation is to find a weapon in Slowik’s home or the barracks. No one as openly strong-willed as Margot is just going to be a good little soldier, get the barrel, and come back and hope they are spared by a literal madman.

Though I love smores, an expert chef calling it “The most offensive assault on the human palate ever contrived” and further explaining why was hilariously hard to disagree with.

At first, I thought the ending was a little overcooked, but sous-chef Katherine makes a good point when she sits down with the other woman to help them understand that her pitch made this evening a murderous one. Though we don’t crave violent onscreen deaths unless you’re a super fan of horror and action, it doesn’t work if they live. She correctly adds that, “The menu needs an ending that ties everything together conceptually. Otherwise, it just tastes good and who cares”. Let this sink in for a second. The screenwriters knew exactly what they were doing with this tongue-in-cheek line, as it’s almost referring to the movie itself in a metafictional way. Had The Menu not have the ending it did that made sense of all the events previously, while finishing off each character arc in such a well-thought-out way, it would have just been like any other movie. It’s good and all, but who cares? How do you set the film apart from the others? She’s right. It’s an ending that ties everything together conceptually. It does not work if they live. You have to go about it in the way that director Mark Mylod and screenwriters Seth Reiss and Will Tracy intended, with a bang. By the end of The Menu, you’ll realize how complete of a screenplay this is and how well every loose end is tied up to make such an oddly gratifying finish. If an up-and-coming screenwriter is looking for a formula to follow, this film is an exceptional recommendation on how to do things right. Thrilling, horrific in all the right ways, and with a legitimate sense of humor surrounding its madcap concept, The Menu is a journey worth taking.

Fun Fact: Emma Stone was set to star but had to drop out due to other commitments.