THE MENU (Mark Mylod, 2022)
A deliciously horrific (dark, dark dark) comedy-of-manners (think Renoir's RULES OF THE GAME if Octave went all Count Zarnoff ) meets excoriation of a CHEF'S TABLE culture that takes the love out of that most primal of arts – though it could be applied to any art, really – and in whose gut, as Ralph Fiennes's executive-chef-cum-cult-leader Julian so aptly puts it, that art becomes shit.
With the exception of the (apparent? I'm not discounting that I may have misread the final scene and relish the chance to revisit at some point) turn in the remaining diners' attitudes at the final course – I couldn't tell if it was acceptance or resignation or conversion or all (or none) of the above – feeling more than a bit like a switch flipped (had it been seeded throughout, perhaps that would have worked better; as it was, the totality of "The Menu" and its attendant punishments didn't feel as complete as it could have had total conversion to Julian's perspective been achieved – in my eyes, it didn't go far enough (which probably says more about me than the film itself)), THE MENU ranks among my favorite recent releases – so much so that It's now the second film (the first being PARASITE) that I purchased on Blu-Ray midway through my first viewing.
Indeed: as PARASITE did for peaches, THE MENU does for s'mores.