Mark Mylod’s “The Menu” is an unsavory and toothless satire. It may try to pull some social class-action punches with crisp extravagance and cheap thrills while containing some great performances by Anya Taylor-Joy and Hong Chau. Still, this gastronomic experience leaves no space for its comedic quips or food for thought, leaving way too much to be desired. From its initial moments, you know that Adam McKay’s name is attached to this project, for better or worse (mainly for the latter).

Social satires and darkly-comedic hits on social class have hit the Box Office en masse these past couple of years, more so than ever before. However, two films are at the center of this conversation because of their festival premieres and acclaim: Ruben Östlund’s Palme d’Or-winning “Triangle of Sadness” and Mark Mylod’s “The Menu.” Both have some similarities in terms of analytical context, substance, and takedowns of the higher-ups—the bloody gluttonous rich who make their cash out of various ridiculous means.

Mark Mylod Attempts to Appeal to a Wider Audience

However, their approach to tackling these wealthy people’s rigorous demeanor is quite different. Östlund went with an in-your-face sledgehammer approach that lacks subtlety and combines the savvy oddities of Luis Buñuel with Charlie Chaplin-like slapstick comedic set-pieces, which caused the audiences to howl like hyenas. The screen is filled with laughing gas; the audience is covered in poisonous folly that one cannot help but keep laughing and laughing through the pain of the 1%. “Triangle of Sadness’” subtext may not be so rich, but it is visually entertaining and distinctive. Nobody makes films like Östlund and wants to ensure his movies remain in your mind for days, weeks, and months after watching them. Coincidentally, he always succeeds.

The latter of these, Mark Mylod’s “The Menu,” takes a different route, one that tends to appeal to broader audiences: big A-list stars, bright Hollywood gloss, and snappy dialogue. It contains the appeal that many people will enjoy on paper, and I honestly think that people will go and see the film because of that popularist checklist. However, the gloss, look, and actors alone don’t cover all the grounds that make a satire work. Sure, they help the project move forward, but it isn’t the most crucial factor.

The Menu
A scene from “The Menu.” (Photo: courtesy of Searchlight Pictures).

The screenplay is the key that holds satires together—the memorable yet hard-hitting and darkly comedic lines. The script needs to contain exquisite subtext that will do two things: make you laugh and cause intrigue to analyze and reflect. And while “Triangle of Sadness” did have its faults on the context side of things (and the characters were Östlund’s easiest targets to date), it made me do those two things, cackle and consider. Unfortunately, “The Menu” does neither of them, ending as a toothless and unsavory satire. It does try to throw punches at the top-priority class, but the film is frustratingly unfunny and contains no food for thought.

A Darkly-Comedic Satirical Thriller

The events that transpire in “The Menu” all happen during one night at a luxurious island restaurant, where the world-renowned chef Julian Slowik (Ralph Fiennes) makes his elaborate meals and exquisite fine dining experiences. How much money does it take to be a part of it? A whole lot. The dozens willing to pay the high cost to attend range from actors and CEOs to food critics and spoiled brats whose parents have limitless pockets.

However, the only person who matters in the bunch and immediately catches the chef’s attention is a last-minute replacement, Anya Taylor Joy’s Margot. She’s there because Tyler (Nicholas Hoult), the aforementioned brat, got dumped and needs a plus one on his trip to the gastronomic experience. Margot’s story is the most important one of all for Mylod to deliver his messages. Her backstory slowly unravels as the day begins like a regular dinner (complete with a tour of the island) and takes a darker turn as the hours’ pass and guests devour the courses. The chef’s passion for cooking has long been dead and has caused him to take drastic measures, the targets being those who have killed it.

Anya Taylor-Joy in “The Menu.” (Photo: Eric Zachanowich. Courtesy of Searchlight Pictures).

The low-portion fine-dining meals represent a new chapter in the “darkly-comedic” satirical thriller—each tackling a different subject matter regarding the rich. It shows the ingredients to make the dish and some “witty” remarks that comment on one of the guest’s notes on the specific food or the incident that occurred at that moment. From the beginning, you already know that things will not go as planned; the beautiful scenery is just a concealing mantle for the horrors that will transpire throughout the night.

‘The Menu’ Struggles Satirically and Narrative-wise

The audience is one step ahead, causing the director and screenwriter to find ways in which they could surprise them, whether it’d be with sharply executed plot twists or profound analytical thoughts/comments about the topics being tackled. In essence, that’s one of the more significant problems of the film; it spoils the outcome in the first twenty minutes. Mylod at the helm can’t deliver any suspense, wit, or analytical thematic heft to keep viewers at the edge of their seats. Narrative-wise, it all goes downhill; the first fifteen minutes are its most intriguing and set up a possibly exciting story gadget, but it develops into one of the least funny (and thought-provoking) features of the year with the biggest potential.

Sure, there are glimpses of an initial spark of intrigue in a couple of scenes in the latter half. Yet, they never develop into everlasting flames that stick in your mind for less than the film’s runtime. Immediately after watching it, you forget about it, especially if you saw “Triangle of Sadness” recently. I personally think that the involvement of Adam McKay in the project deteriorated the effects of its resolution… the ‘McKay-ness’ of it all (if it’s even an actual term; if it isn’t, it should be implemented and established after this one).

An Unsavory and Toothless Satire

A scene from “The Menu.” (Photo by Eric Zachanowich. Courtesy of Searchlight Pictures).

“The Menu” contains some quips and dialogue reminiscent of what we have seen in his past work. The gnawing and annoying scripture that screenwriters Will Tracy and Seth Reiss replicated from works like “Don’t Look Up” and “Step Brothers” self-botches itself due to the headache and vexation-inducing takes on comedy. It’s unsavory in the humor and toothless in the satire. What else do you have to latch onto if the film doesn’t work on either of those ends? Nothing. The performances by Hong Chau and Anya Taylor-Joy (the best thing in the movie) can’t save all those ruptures in “The Menu’s” backbone.

While many might compare Östlund and Mylod’s work because of their themes and topics, their tactics are different—one of them is effective, while the other is a total misfire of monumental proportions. Lackluster, tonally misadventurous, and truly unfunny, “The Menu” makes an effort to do something different, but that alone isn’t good enough. So, if you want to have a cinematic and hilarious culinary experience, indulge yourself in the latest from Peter Strickland, “Flux Gourmet,” a way better and more distinctive film.

 

 

 

 

“The Menu” opens in theaters on November 18th. 

Support the Site: Consider becoming a sponsor to unlock exclusive, member-only content and help support The Movie Buff!

Share.

Hector Gonzalez is a Puerto Rican, Tomatometer-Approved film critic and the Co-founder of the PRCA, as well as a member of OFTA and PIFC. He is currently interested in the modern reassessment of Gridnhouse cinema, the portrayal of mental health in film, and everything horror. You can follow him on Instagram @hectorhareviews and Twitter @hector__ha.

Leave A Reply

Currently you have JavaScript disabled. In order to post comments, please make sure JavaScript and Cookies are enabled, and reload the page. Click here for instructions on how to enable JavaScript in your browser.

Exit mobile version