The Menu (2022): A Dark, Delicious Satire on Fine Dining and Class Divide
The Menu, directed by Mark Mylod and written by Seth Reiss and Will Tracy, is a brilliantly twisted blend of dark comedy, horror, and social satire. Set almost entirely within the confines of an exclusive restaurant on a remote island, the film serves up a sharp critique of elitism, the commodification of art, and the absurd pretensions of the ultra-wealthy—all plated with visual flair and biting wit.
The story centers on Margot (Anya Taylor-Joy), a sharp and observant outsider, who joins her obsessive foodie companion Tyler (Nicholas Hoult) on a lavish dining experience at Hawthorne, an ultra-exclusive restaurant helmed by the enigmatic and revered Chef Julian Slowik (Ralph Fiennes). The restaurant only accepts a select group of guests for each evening, and the night’s attendees include tech bros, a faded movie star, a haughty food critic, and other figures of privilege and arrogance.
As the multi-course meal unfolds, it becomes clear that something is very wrong. Each dish is not just a culinary creation but a statement—an attack, a confession, or a mockery. The atmosphere becomes increasingly tense as the courses progress, revealing dark secrets about the guests and their pasts. Chef Slowik, with icy charisma and an unnerving calm, announces that the dinner will end with everyone’s death—including himself and his devoted staff.
The brilliance of The Menu lies in its tone: it walks the line between horror and humor with surgical precision. The satire is pointed but not preachy. The film skewers the pretentiousness of high-end dining and the hollow nature of consumerism. Tyler, for example, worships the chef as an artist but can’t cook a single edible dish himself. The guests, used to being catered to, are powerless and exposed when stripped of their status.
Anya Taylor-Joy delivers a strong performance as Margot, whose background as a working-class escort gives her a unique perspective. She is not a typical guest—she does not belong to the world of luxury, and therefore, she becomes a wildcard in Chef Slowik’s carefully orchestrated performance. Her interactions with the chef slowly transform the course of the evening, culminating in a surprising and strangely emotional finale.
Ralph Fiennes is mesmerizing as Chef Slowik, blending menace with moments of vulnerability. His portrayal of a man broken by the hollow praise of the elite and the loss of joy in his own craft is tragic and terrifying. His final act—a literal and symbolic purge through fire—burns away the pretensions and artifice that he believes have corrupted his art.
Visually, the film is stunning. The dishes are presented with meticulous detail, parodying the over-the-top theatrics of haute cuisine. The set design, lighting, and camera work all reinforce the sense of claustrophobia and control. The score subtly builds tension, adding to the growing sense of unease.
In the end, The Menu is more than a horror-thriller—it is a clever, layered reflection on class, consumption, and the death of authenticity in a world obsessed with status and spectacle. It’s disturbing, funny, and deeply satisfying—a cinematic meal that leaves a lasting aftertaste.
