The Menu (2022)

The Menu is a wickedly entertaining dinner party from hell, the kind of film that makes you laugh, wince, and lean in closer all at once, because every detail is plated with purpose. Mark Mylod directs with the precision of a maître d’ who knows exactly when to pull your chair out and when to kick it, while Ralph Fiennes delivers a mesmerizing performance as a chef whose calm control is more terrifying than any jump scare. Anya Taylor-Joy is the perfect counterweight—sharp, grounded, and watchable—guiding you through a world of privilege and pretension that the movie skewers with delicious cruelty. It’s a dark, talky, blood-spattered satire that rewards anyone who enjoys horror with brains and comedy with teeth, though if you’re sensitive to strong violence and very strong language, you’ll want to come prepared.

The Menu is clearly trying to be a slick, darkly funny takedown of foodie culture, class privilege, and the way “art” gets commodified, and it mostly succeeds on style and performances—Ralph Fiennes is chillingly controlled and Anya Taylor-Joy is the necessary human anchor. The catch is that the satire can feel loud and a bit smug, like it’s underlining the joke instead of trusting you to get it, and the story’s later turns don’t always land with the bite the setup promises. It’s also more mean-spirited than scary, with bursts of nasty violence and an overall cynical tone that can leave you admiring the craft more than enjoying the ride. If you want a genuinely tense horror-thriller or subtle social commentary, this may frustrate you; if you like pitch-black comedy with a high-concept premise and great actors chewing the scenery, it’s worth a seat at the table.