Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery, Triangle of Sadness and The Menu all appeared in 2022, all seemingly linked by the premise of undeserving rich idiots placed into a situation from which their money and influence could not protect them. While I've yet to see Triangle, I appreciated Glass Onion more on a second viewing and loved The Menu once I grasped its profoundly metaphorical premise. The whole film can be summed up in a single scene of Richard Attenborough's Magic when magician Anthony Hopkins performs an insanely complex card trick that took forever to perfect in front of a desperately unappreciative audience. Wealth (so it seems from this writer who has never enjoyed it personally but also understands that as far as things stand, globally he's one of the very lucky ones) seems to partition human beings in such a way that relationships are soured by a mismatched power dynamic. Billionaires must wake up every morning hyper-alert to the idea that their friends and collaborators can never be equals and that their relationships seem to be at risk of being strained through the colander of their immense fortunes. How does a billionaire find a life partner who responds to them honestly? It's that Mrs. Merton joke, that question asked of Debbie McGee, magician Paul Daniels's wife, "So what attracted you to millionaire Paul Daniels?" The money isn't an elephant in the room. It's a wet cape that weighs on and clings to shoulders which affects every one of your movements. Money can buy many things but ironically none of the most sought after, human connections, love, trust and authentic emotional commitment. Can't buy me love, indeed.

Once-famous Masterchef Slowik has invited a diverse group of people for a fine dining experience at his restaurant Hawthorns located on a private island. They include the food critic who discovered him and her fawning editor, a faded movie star, three hyper rich men, friends who are about as obnoxious as it gets and the foodie groupie Tyler is the fawning fan who was forced at the last moment to find a replacement for his formerly invited girlfriend. Margot, his date, is underwhelmed by the seriousness of her partner's devotion to both Chef Slowik and inflatedly priced, and pretentious cuisine that normal people would probably just laugh at, as does Margot. As each course is presented with a loud clap, Chef Slowik makes a short speech slowly drip feeding the dark reasons why he planned this event. Away from the kitchen, he focuses his attention on Margot, Tyler's replacement companion. She is acutely unwelcome given the time and effort gone into the evening having courses tailor made for each participant. Let's just say to avoid spoilers that Slowik is not a happy man and he has a small army of fiercely devoted acolytes, chefs and assistants who would follow him to hell and back. As for fitting into a broad genre, horror comedy would be close and it's a hoot. Certain aspects, like perversely A Serbian Film, have to be taken as allegorical or metaphorical. Apply a rigid and realistic logic to the last twenty minutes of the film and it may lose you. But if you jump in with the darkest glee, you'll have a ball.

Margot, Anna Taylor-Joy, surely one of the most talented actresses out there right now, is smoking a cigarette. Her food obsessed partner Tyler, About A Boy's Nicholas Hoult, whose delivery of the word 'touché' in The Great was one of the biggest laugh-snorts I had during lockdown, chides her for compromising her taste buds just before a trip to a master chef's gastronomic adventure, an experience very few have savoured. Taylor-Joy, born in Miami, raised in Buenos Aires and London, seems to have mastered each language and regional accent flawlessly. Google an interview with her. Her perfect and natural Spanish just makes you appreciate her language talent even more. She has a distinctive look the camera simply adores. The group of wealthy and powerful guests show their true selfish colours early on and it doesn't take long for each to be regarded as mere shadows subjected to the chef's unforgiving bright light with the exception of Margot, our identification character. Wealth and power seem to nurture entitlement in the same way that a good diet promotes health. It's only when that entitlement is subverted do we get to see what constitutes real character or lack thereof. And there are many 'lack thereofs' in The Menu.

Chef Slowik, played with some (ahem) relish by the ever dependable and always convincing Ralph Fiennes, is a tortured artist, a victim of circumstance who's unable to look inside himself for the roots of his own profound dissatisfaction. That sounds like a certain member of the Royal family. He plays out his vitriolic game one calculated move and one course at a time. Let's say the stakes are raised (while the steaks are braised) as each course is cautiously devoured. No apology for the dreadful pun. His loyal manager, the first to become suspicious of Margot, is Hong Chau as Elsa. Her barely concealed contempt at having to deal with these people makes her the perfect defender of food as art and Slowik in particular. John Leguizamo as 'movie star' comes across as pitiful despite his once lustre in Hollywood and his arc from puff-chested celeb to a sad has-been is notable for how well and sympathetically it's played. The rest of the cast acquit themselves well (most so easy to despise) and the film does not pull its horror punches and doesn't skimp on the bloodletting (mild spoiler, there will be blood).

There are so few original movies out there at the moment. I'm working in London and every day on the underground commute there and back, I despair of the theatre posters while ascending and descending on the escalators. It seems that every one of the shows is based on a work that came before it. Originality in everything in the arts has become even more precious, more so than the ridiculous courses served up in The Menu. But take a bite. It's well worth it.

* https://cinemadailyus.com/interviews/the-menu-exclusive-interview-with-director-mark-mylod/