"The Menu" - Film Review
The Menu is like an indoor, in-the-dark roller coaster. When you enter the theatre, you have a vague idea of what you’re getting yourself into. It’s clear that the film will be a skewering of the ultra-rich when a night of fine dining goes violently wrong, but the twists and turns are cloaked in pretty plating and an expensive ambiance.
Hawthorne is an exclusive restaurant on a secluded island. The visionary chef in charge, Julian Slowik (Ralph Fiennes), is known for being meticulous about the theme of his menu. It varies from meal to meal and only reveals itself upon the final course. A single meal at Hawthorne costs thousands and is only accessible to the elite. Unbeknownst to this night’s group of diners, Julian has brought them together for a reason. Among the guests are a famous food critic (Janet McTeer) and her editor (Paul Adelstein), a foodie (Nicholas Hoult), tech bros (Arturo Castro, Rob Yang, and Mark St. Cyr), a washed-up actor (John Leguizamo) and his assistant (Aimee Carrero), frequent Hawthorne guests (Judith Light and Reed Birney), and a young woman (Anya Taylor-Joy) who has no interest in the world of fine dining.
Photo by Eric Zachanowich. Courtesy of Searchlight Pictures. © 2022 20th Century Studios All Rights Reserved.
It would be wrong not to address The Menu’s view of critics and the purpose of criticism when it comes to art in a review of the film. It speaks to an issue that exists in many critiques where the writer comes from a place of superiority, as if their opinion matters more than others. That’s simply not the case. Good, worthwhile criticism is honest without being scathing simply to relish in an individual’s failings or shortcomings. It’s common in the world of film reviews where writers often seem to take gleeful joy in ripping a movie to shreds. So many reviews for Olivia Wilde’s Don’t Worry Darling earlier this year focused their critiques on the ever-swirling drama of the behind-the-scenes world instead of the film itself. Criticism exists so we can share opinions and actively discuss a film’s impact on our society. As soon as the writer of that criticism believes their opinion holds more weight than that of the person next to them, they’ve lost sight of the true purpose of a critique.
As for The Menu, it’s a meticulously paced film. The action and character development are slow at first, parsed out in little amuse-bouches during each course, until the evening takes its unsettling turn. That twist is not a well-guarded secret. It’s one that was given away in trailers and is fairly obvious from the get-go, but it’s where The Menu goes after the twist that truly makes the film delightful. Like the dishes served by Julian and his staff, the plot is delicious and delicate. A minute more and the film would have been ruined.
Photo Courtesy of Searchlight Pictures. © 2022 20th Century Studios All Rights Reserved.
The production design is reminiscent of the Netflix series Chef’s Table (a comparison that makes sense given the involvement of David Gelb, creator of Chef’s Table). The plates are tweezered to oblivion and filled with rocks, gellies, and edible flowers. The film is clearly poking fun at the world of fine dining, its miniscule offerings, and the recent obsession of molecular gastronomy. At its heart, however, is the difficult balance of doing something you love for money; when love for an artform turns into a joyless, obsessive pursuit of an impossible-to-reach perfection. How easy it is to forget that even the simplest things can be great as long as the intent behind them is genuine.
The Menu deserves to be seen with very little knowledge of the plot. Even the trailers (and likely this review) give too much away. It’s a dark, vicious satire that expertly unfolds itself over the course of ten dishes.
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