The Menu (2022), directed by Mark Mylod, functions as a pointed satire that draws upon several interlocking contextual pressures of the early 2020s. This essay examines how the film’s production environment—marked by intensified late capitalism, the ascendance of foodie culture, and the lingering instabilities of the post-pandemic economy—shapes its critique of the diminishing authenticity of culinary experience and the systemic disregard shown toward service workers. By foregrounding these factors, the text reframes what might initially appear as a simple horror premise into a broader commentary on commodification and entitlement.
Initial Audience Assumptions and Economic Framing
Many viewers encountering The Menu for the first time presume it will centre on cannibalism, an expectation shaped by trailer marketing that foregrounds isolated grotesque imagery. Yet the narrative quickly pivots away from literal consumption toward the symbolic devouring of creativity under capitalist logic. Economic conditions surrounding the film’s release reinforced this shift. Investors increasingly treat artistic innovation as a speculative asset, a process the film literalises through the character of the angel investor. Slowik’s newspaper photograph, showing him beaming while cooking an ordinary burger, stands in sharp contrast to the joyless precision of his current establishment. The image underscores how passion is extracted and repackaged for profit, stripping the original act of its personal significance.
Foodie Culture and Performative Consumption
The parallel rise of aestheticised food media further informs the text’s meaning. Platforms that reward visual spectacle over sensory pleasure encourage diners to treat meals as status performances rather than communal acts. Tyler embodies this distortion. He approaches each course as an intellectual game, deriving satisfaction less from taste than from proximity to the chef’s “masterpiece.” His willingness to endanger his date in pursuit of inclusion reveals how foodie entitlement inverts the dining relationship, positioning the diner as the true arbiter of value. The breadless bread plate sequence crystallises this inversion: when the kitchen deliberately withholds the expected commodity, the guests’ indignant response (“this is all very clever… But you know who we are right?”) exposes the fragility of their cultural capital once stripped of material markers.
Post-Pandemic Labour Pressures and Exploitation
The post-pandemic economy supplies an additional layer of context. Heightened competition and precarious employment intensified the demand that hospitality workers “give everything” to satisfy an unpredictable clientele. The film renders this exploitation visible through the kitchen staff’s collective suicide and Elsa’s frantic declaration, “you will not replace me.” Slowik’s closing monologue captures the psychological toll: even perfection cannot compensate for the personal erosion caused by perpetual performance for anonymous consumers. These scenes gain resonance against a backdrop in which many service workers faced unstable contracts and intensified scrutiny, rendering the chef’s revolt legible as an extreme response to structural disrespect.
Conclusion
Collectively, the rise of late capitalism, foodie performativity, and post-pandemic labour conditions direct The Menu toward a coherent thematic core: the loss of food’s intrinsic meaning and the consequent degradation of those who produce it. Rather than merely delivering shocks, the film uses its specific historical moment to indict a system in which creativity and service are consumed until nothing authentic remains. This contextual grounding transforms an ostensibly niche genre piece into a broadly legible critique of contemporary consumption.
References
- Monaco, J. (2009) How to Read a Film: Movies, Media, and Beyond. 4th edn. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
