An ending so wholly incomplete that I was left with no questions; this oxymoron encapsulates the nature of ‘The Menu’, a newly released psychological thriller starring Ralph Fiennes and Anya Taylor-Joy.

This film harnessed the power of Michelin-starred food to tell a much greater, more expansive story which managed to criticise the wrongs inherent to society in what initially felt like the setting of a social experiment, before quickly transitioning to something far more sinister. In the words of my friend Sarah, you emerge from the cinema “feeling manipulated” as the omniscient precision and control with which Chef Slowick (the antagonistic, crazed chef at the centre of this plot) dispensed and retracted hope and fear even managed to effect the audience: whether it was shown by the shocked gasps of those who shared in the fear of his customers, or the occasional laugh at his comically sadistic humour.

‘The Menu’ depicts a couple who pay for a unique, extortionate experience to eat at Hawthorne, the coveted restaurant of Chef Slowick, which is located on a self-sufficient island. All the staff appear very robotic and seem to know with precise detail all of the needs, wants and even portion sizes of the various wealthy customers: including a successful food critic and a world-famous film star. As each course is brought out, the Chef’s explanations behind each dish become increasingly deranged, until death becomes the muse of the courses. At this point, the guests realise that the Chef intends to kill them, because he sees them all as complicit in the destruction of his love of food. One character who notices this in particular is Margot, who was not initially meant to be there, only invited last minute by her companion Tyler. She discovers that before Slowick was a high-end restaurateur, he used to work in a burger kitchen, which is where his love of cooking was ignited. She uses this shard of his humanity to persuade him to let her go, however, she is unable to help the rest of the customers or staff, who are consumed by the flames ignited by the Chef as part of the final dessert course - a satirical metaphor depicting the “self-sacrificing”, subservient position of the working class (according to Paste Magazine).

There were many stark themes that proliferated throughout this film, arguably united under the banner of ‘justice,’ which made the movie so memorable and poignant. Chef Slowick has this intense desire to challenge the hypocrisy and privilege that permeate this world, and though it is achieved through… unorthodox means, it is a principle that is shared by many across generations. The importance of class disparity to the story is particularly emphasised when Margot, who is from a low-income background herself, discovers how meaningful the Chef’s humble origins in the burger kitchen are to him. As he became increasingly successful, his love of cooking was replaced with anger and obsession, fuelled by the consumeristic, pretentious attitudes of his customers who “eat” rather than “taste” the food - an important distinction made by the chef. The dramatic revenge Slowick exacts upon his customers could rather be seen as ‘vengeance’ for the collective pain of those who have been exploited by the rich throughout history. Moreover, the aggressive, commanding way the Chef runs his kitchen, with the staff all saying “yes chef” in perfect unison and standing to attention without movement, is a sinister recreation of the hierarchy often found in Michelin kitchens. The staff act in a hypnotic, obsequious manner towards the Chef, which serves to add further emphasis on the mistreatment of those who provide services in this world. Although Chef Slowick was the one who brought about their suffering, he saw his actions to be a necessary result of maintain the integrity of his food, which is ultimately destroyed by the gluttonous whims of his wealthy customers; therefore, he cedes responsibility of his actions wholly over to them, creating this twisted version of social justice through the biases of a psychopath.

Another significant point which caught my interest was the symbolism of the characters - their backstories and social roles - in creating this representation of social injustice. For a significant portion of the film, Margot’s true identity is as great a mystery as the Chef’s; he remains convinced that she has not revealed her true name and is adamant that she does so in order for the culinary experience to have the desired effect. This desire to form a personal connection could perhaps be founded in the expectation that, because he introduced his customers to dishes which were extremely personal to him, then they should to reciprocate this gesture. However, with Margot this curiosity delves to a deeper connection. It is discovered that Margot is a sex worker of sorts, and this is where the Chef connects to her. He understands the distinction between the customer and the one who serves, which is why he repeatedly insists to her that she belongs “on the other side” in the kitchen because he notices that she understands the power imbalance in the room better than those blinded by privilege. A fascinating commentary on the service industry is created here, as it is suggested that the position of inferiority as the service provider might mean that you can never really enjoy what you once loved, as your passion has been commodified, meaning people take from you without appreciation or respect. Each of the wealthier customers also play a role in symbolising the transition of Slowick’s love of food into obsession. For example, the famous actor had previously released a film which the chef had watched on a rare day off, only to find that he despised the film because it lacked passion. Slowick’s angered response to this demonstrates how he sees the loss of love for his own job reflected in this actor, who now only makes movies for the sake of profit and fame. This egotistical lifestyle is further emphasised when he convinces the other guests that he knows Slowick; therefore, the chef’s horrific actions act as a warning against this form of hubris.

However, the most interesting, yet mysterious, character is the Chef himself. He seems to be “consumed with self-loathing” (according to the director, Mark Mylod) which is why he chooses to bring about not only the destruction of his customers, but of himself and his restaurant too. He despises his complacency in the corruption of his trade, demonstrated when the theme of one of the courses is the way his treatment of a female staff member made her feel extremely uncomfortable, for which he willingly allows her to stab him in the thigh. When he later goes up in flames, he is dramatically condemning himself to something reminiscent of the fiery pits of hell, almost as if it were a religious allegory for the need to punish and be cleansed of sin. All of these themes and characters achieve a multifaceted tone of satire, dark comedy and horror which makes it the perfect film to “dig into the bad choices that humans make” (Mark Mylod). The writers were highly successful in initally portraying it to be a gruesome horror film, before turning into a psychological mystery which lingers in the back of your mind for days afterwards. It is certainly not just a film, but an experience, as Slowick intended.