If you attempt to engage with 'The Menu (2022)' as an allegory, its satire is actually somewhat troubling. If it is intended as a metaphor, it's rather obvious that its depiction of haute cuisine is a stand-in for the film industry itself. Its targets are the critics, the financiers, the unappreciative audience, the wannabe filmmakers and even the actors themselves. It seems to have disdain for almost every facet of filmmaking. Though none of its observations are especially biting or, indeed, clever, they're almost all extremely callous and some of them are actually rather problematic. For instance, a portion of the piece seems to suggest that if you have a passion for films and enjoy making them but aren't great at doing so, then you're part of the problem that prevents true art from excelling. This is an extremely reductive and, ironically, elitist stance that also provides a rather damning insight into the ego of the filmmakers behind this very feature. Speaking of those filmmakers, it's unclear if they feel as though the characters - and, by proxy, the groups they represent - are deserving of what befalls them (which, to be clear, they aren't). By extension, it's unclear whether they feel themselves to occupy the role of Chef Slowik, the villainous cook whose final menu extends beyond food and into morbid live theatre, which would suggest they view their antagonist as somewhat of an unsung hero and have marked themselves as being the same. If this is the case, not only have they created something distasteful, they have also severely overestimated the merit of their work as a serious takedown of the film industry; this is pretty basic stuff that is far less clever than it thinks it is.
Of course, perhaps the allegory isn't intentional or, at the very least, isn't intended to be taken seriously. In this scenario, the movie is much easier to engage with. Although its commentary on haute cuisine is still as unfulfilling as one of its antagonist's concept meals, it isn't as pretentious or problematic. The affair essentially acts as a pseudo B-movie with a sleek and shiny aesthetic. It's generally well made, with clean cinematography and decisive direction. It isn't particularly funny and it isn't particularly horrifying (although it has some disconcerting moments), but it works as an exercise in ratcheting tension and it's pacy enough to keep you engaged throughout. The archetypal characters do what they need to and are portrayed well (Nicholas Hoult and John Leguizamo are the standouts), but they mostly lack personality and are just kind of bland. The exceptions to that are the characters portrayed - rather excellently, I'll add - by Ralph Fiennes, Anya Taylor Joy and Hong Chau, who all showcase a bit more depth and have notable characteristics that mark them as major players within their ensemble.
Ultimately, despite its potentially dodgy allegorical underpinnings, this is a solid thriller that works fairly well on a surface level. The more you think about it or try to engage with it as a metaphor, the less it holds up. Much like the food served by its villain, it's pseudo intellectual nonsense that may seem impressive at first but is ultimately empty calories. In the moment, however, it's enjoyable enough for what it is and is structured in such a way that you shouldn't get bored. Regardless of any artistic or satiric pretences, what has actually been cooked up may lack a compelling concept but is competently crafted and can be fun while it lasts.
Of course, perhaps the allegory isn't intentional or, at the very least, isn't intended to be taken seriously. In this scenario, the movie is much easier to engage with. Although its commentary on haute cuisine is still as unfulfilling as one of its antagonist's concept meals, it isn't as pretentious or problematic. The affair essentially acts as a pseudo B-movie with a sleek and shiny aesthetic. It's generally well made, with clean cinematography and decisive direction. It isn't particularly funny and it isn't particularly horrifying (although it has some disconcerting moments), but it works as an exercise in ratcheting tension and it's pacy enough to keep you engaged throughout. The archetypal characters do what they need to and are portrayed well (Nicholas Hoult and John Leguizamo are the standouts), but they mostly lack personality and are just kind of bland. The exceptions to that are the characters portrayed - rather excellently, I'll add - by Ralph Fiennes, Anya Taylor Joy and Hong Chau, who all showcase a bit more depth and have notable characteristics that mark them as major players within their ensemble.
Ultimately, despite its potentially dodgy allegorical underpinnings, this is a solid thriller that works fairly well on a surface level. The more you think about it or try to engage with it as a metaphor, the less it holds up. Much like the food served by its villain, it's pseudo intellectual nonsense that may seem impressive at first but is ultimately empty calories. In the moment, however, it's enjoyable enough for what it is and is structured in such a way that you shouldn't get bored. Regardless of any artistic or satiric pretences, what has actually been cooked up may lack a compelling concept but is competently crafted and can be fun while it lasts.