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Say this a lot for “The Menu”: Its seared, rigorously julienned coronary heart is in the proper place.
In Mark Mylod’s fashionable satirical takedown of elitism, capitalistic extra and fetishized meals tradition, Ralph Fiennes delivers a fiendish flip as an egotistical chef whose restaurant occupies a distant island. Because the movie opens, a gaggle of fortunate diners board a ship to ferry them to what guarantees to be a culinary expertise for the ages.
After the ferryman deposits the A-listers on an attractively rustic shore (performed by Jekyll Island within the movie), the diners are taken on a tour by Elsa (Hong Chau), who explains that all the pieces they are going to be consuming tonight comes from surrounding nature, the form of smug farm-to-table speech that has been parodied hilariously in “Portlandia.” As soon as the diners are seated within the restaurant itself, Chef Slowik (Fiennes) proves to be a concurrently fascinating and fascistic ringmaster, introducing every course with a dizzyingly unreliable narrative, his agenda coming into focus as he units his piercing eyes on his clients.
He’s out for blood, however whose will it’s? The keen foodie and his fairly girlfriend (Nicholas Hoult and Anya Taylor-Pleasure)? The restaurant critic and her toadyish editor (Janet McTeer and Paul Adelstein)? The movie star and his lady Friday (John Leguizamo and Aimee Carrero)? The bored, embittered spouses (Reed Birney and Judith Gentle)? Or the obnoxious finance bros with no style and approach an excessive amount of cash (Arturo Castro, Rob Yang and Mark St. Cyr)?
The excessive jinks and lowdown deeds that ensue in “The Menu” are positive to remind viewers of “The Triangle of Disappointment,” Ruben Ostlund’s equally bilious takedown of the wealthy and fatuous. Written by Seth Reiss and Will Tracy, this jaundiced parlor recreation is enhanced by a good-looking manufacturing design and a forged that digs into its theatrical premise (and flashes of humor) with gustatory relish. Filmed in wealthy tones by Peter Deming, who images the meals in glistening close-ups, “The Menu” is commonly a pleasure to look at, particularly whereas Chef’s true intentions waft into focus like a lot asparagus foam.
As soon as the sport is afoot, although, “The Menu’s” soufflé begins to sag, with the plot turning into drearier in direct proportion to the body-horror leap scares. “Eat the wealthy” is perhaps a well-liked theme this film season, however “The Menu” takes the concept to extremes that lastly overpower the palate.
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