The Menu

Director: Mark Mylod
Starring: Ralph Fiennes, Anya Taylor-Joy, Nicholas Hoult, Hong Chau, Janet McTeer, Paul Adelstein, John Leguizamo, Aimee Carrero, Reed Birney, Judith Light, Rebecca Koon, Rob Yang, Arturo Castro, Mark St. Cyr
Running Time: 106 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

There's a character in the horror-comedy film The Menu who comments that they're starving after multiple courses of food have already been served. And we're inclined to believe it, since mouse-sized portions are common when eating at an exclusive restaurant like the one depicted here. It's also easy to lose your appetite if the evening's meal is unexpectedly derailed by murder, suicide, torture and a side order of psychotic ramblings. But what matters most is the preparation and presentation of the food, along with the fact you're dining at an important establishment that others of prominent social standing frequent. If the reward is often just being seen there, you have to appreciate how screenwriters Seth Reis and Will Tracy acknowledge that bread crumbs rarely do the trick, no matter how nice it looks on the plate. 

While the carefully selected dinner guests in this film probably don't mind paying a pricey bill, they won't even get their bread crumbs, nor will they be allowed to leave. Held hostage by an obsessive chef who favors "tasting" over "eating," he's determined to deliver a message that's uncomfortably hilarious, violent and offensively truthful. And if the conceit seems crazy, it's at least tightly constructed chaos, immersing us in the thrill of  two top class actors facing off against the backdrop of high cuisine. Surviving each course may be an endurance test for the patrons, but watching it all unfold is a twisted delight, entertaining and suspenseful enough to return for seconds.

Enthusiastic foodie Tyler Ledford (Nicholas Hoult) and his date Margot Mills (Anya Taylor-Joy) are traveling by boat to Hawthorn, an exclusive restaurant that's operated by renowned celebrity chef Julian Slowik (Ralph Fiennes) and located on a remote island. Other guests are food critic Lillian Bloom (Janet McTeer) and her editor Ted (Paul Adelstein), wealthy couple Richard (Reed Birney) and Anne Leibrandt (Judith Light), washed-up movie star George (John Leguizamo) and his assistant Felicity (Aimee Carrero), business partners Soren (Arturo Castro), Dave (Mark St. Cyr), and Bryce (Rob Yang) and Slowik's unresponsive alcoholic mother Linda (Rebecca Coon). 

Following a tour of the island's facilities by dutiful maître d' Elsa (a perfectly deadpan Hong Chau), dinner begins with Slowik introducing a series of bizarre entrées with a theme, often punctuated by some uncomfortable monologues and personal anecdotes related to each course. But when things take a drastically dark turn and the guests' secret wrongdoings are exposed, it becomes clear the host and his militant staff aren't about to let anyone exit on their own accord. As Tyler remains blindly loyal to his favorite chef, Margot's had enough, looking for ways to outsmart Slowik at his own game before their last dish is served.

Slickly Directed by Mark Mylod (who's helmed multiple episodes of of TV's Succession), much of the premise's fun comes in an inability to predict what this sadistic chef will say or do next. There's a slow building sense of tension as these self absorbed patrons swoon in anticipation of each course, blissfully unaware what's ahead, or the dastardly purpose of Slowik's menu. The film also makes hilarious use of title cards, flashing the name and ingredients of the meal on screen, with pithy comments reflecting the chef's sarcastic displeasure. It's a great touch, allowing us to go along for the ride with these unsuspecting guests as their dinner goes from bad to worse. 

Slowik's deadpan humor and stringent demands only grow more unsettling and confrontational, underlined by some really disturbing stories, including a gem involving his dysfunctional childhood that informs a chicken dish in all the wrong ways. Then comes the point of no return, as this perverse dinner theater crosses the line and the true motivation behind these invites surface. The reason for Margot's presence is a little murkier, which bothers Slowik, who has very specific plans for the evening's menu. And she wasn't factored in.

Fiennes channels an outwardly calmer, more calculating version of Gordon Ramsay in a performance that's undeniably the picture's biggest highlight, holding court with his brutal treatment of these customers, who dread the mayhem following each menu reveal. Taylor-Joy is captivating even in silence, but when Margot proves to be the only one willing to challenge Slowik, her performance really soars. In the wrong place at the wrong time, Margot's an outsider who understands his psychology better than most, looking for a weak spot to exploit in order to stay alive. In doing so, she briefly resurrects a piece of him he thought was long gone, as the screenplay makes a great philosophical point about people slowly falling out of love with their jobs, drowning in the miserable minutiae of it all. 

Hoult's Tyler wastes little time throwing his date under the bus when given a chance to sit under the learning tree of his culinary idol. Revealing himself to be more of a narcissistic weasel with each embarrassing outburst, he only generates further sympathy for Margot's plight. The rest of the cast deliver in their roles, with John Leguizamo standing out in the film's funniest scene opposite Fiennes, as we discover the real reason the chef's so repulsed by him.

With an intriguing concept likely to draw comparisons to recent pop culture satires of the rich like Glass Onion and The White Lotus, this has more than a few flourishes that set it apart, like characters who would still be equally unlikable in a lower income bracket. And it turns out recognizing the difference between a expensive dish and a high quality one comes in handy. The filmmakers at least know that nothing beats a really good cheeseburger, giving hungry viewers incentive not to think too hard about The Menu and just savor the meal.      

Tick, Tick...Boom!

Director: Lin-Manuel Miranda
Starring: Andrew Garfield, Alexandra Shipp, Robin de Jesús, Joshua Henry, Vanessa Hudgens, Judith Light, Jonathan Marc Sherman, Mj Rodriguez, Ben Levi Ross, Bradley Whitford, Laura Benanti, Richard Kind
Running Time: 121 min.
Rating: PG-13 

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

When Hamilton creator Lin-Manuel Miranda was 17 he saw Rent on Broadway and he's credited it for showing him it was entirely possible to write a show that can be both contemporary and important, connecting with audiences on an entirely different level. It was the perfect story that came along at just the right moment, performed by a once-in-a-lifetime cast that seemed to truly grasp how important it was. This was all heightened by the fact that its creator Jonathan Larson never lived to see the impact his work would leave, shockingly passing away before the curtain came up. Chris Columbus' 2005 big screen adaptation of his musical may have reassembled the original cast, but it somehow failed to do anything else, falling considerably short in recapturing any of the elements that made the musical special. It also came too late, hinting that maybe Rent is a story that resides in a very specific time and place in our culture, for which we should probably be grateful.

If Miranda says there would be no In the Heights without Jonathan Larson, it seems only fitting that his feature directorial debut would be an adaptation of Larson's Tick, Tick...Boom, his semi-autobiographical rock musical that preceded Rent and detailed his struggles as a starving artist in early 90's New York City trying to get his Superbia musical off the ground. Screenwriter Steven Levinson (of the infamous Dear Evan Hansen) incorporates real details from Larson's life while alternating between stage monologues, rehearsals of the show, and a more traditional narrative detailing him and his friends trying to make it. If that sounds like a mess, it is. But it's also pretty ambitious and Garfield's frenetic, endlessly energetic performance proves to be an almost fighteningly accurate recreation of what we've seen of the real Larson. 

Those who love this film will really, really love it since it's all very inside and feels made exclusively for those within the New York theater community. But that doesn't mean others won't lose patience with some of the musical numbers or find themselves lost as a number of cameos and references fly over their heads. Miranda's clearly going against the grain by making an artsy, abstract take on biopics in the spirit of Larson's work, looking to appeal to the hardest of hardcore theaterheads. Unfortunately, Tick, Tick...Boom! isn't Rent and there's a reason the latter is so revered while the former was a stepping stone. To Miranda's credit, he doesn't shy away from that, but it does result in some hit-or-miss musical numbers that may have you antsy for Larson to start writing what's next already. This is the journey to get there, and while it's a slog at times, it's meant to be a parable on perserverance and failure, with Miranda depicting Larson's brilliance and obsessive self-destruction with a painful, unflinching honesty.

It's 1992 and Jonathan Larson is performing his Tick,Tick...Boom! monologue at New York Theatre Workshop with friends and Superbia cast members Roger (Joshua Henry) and Karessa (Vanessa Hudgens). Hearing a ticking clock in his head as he approaches his 30th birthday, Jonathan frets that time may be running out in his quest to become a successful musical theater composer like his idol Stephen Sondheim (Bradley Whitford). Preparing to workshop Superbia while working at the Moondance Diner in SoHo, he dismisses former roomate and actor Michael's (Robin de Jesús) suggestions that he follow him into a more secure career in corporate advertising. With rent overdue and the electricity about to be shut off, Jonathan also faces the possibility his dancer-turned-teacher girlfriend, Susan (Alexandra Shipp) could be moving if she accepts a new job opportunity. And now, after 8 years toiling over Superbia, his creative obsession reaches its boiling point, damaging all of his personal relationships in the process.   

What's most surprising about the depiction of Larson is how both emotionally draining and inspiring he can be. Garfield nearly leaps through the screen with his infectious enthusiasm, establishing him early as an artist with a one-track mind that won't let anything or anyone get in the way of his vision. At times it crosses far over the line into selfishness (especially in regard to Susan), but there's rarely a moment where he doesn't seem entirely relatable. The film's at its best when residing completely in Larson's head, fixating on the idea that time's running out. It sadly proves to be true, as in the end he had just barely enough, but not nearly what he should have gotten. The same could be said for many of his friends, with the AIDS epidemic bubbling under the surface for much of the film's narrative before playing a bigger role in the last act.

The time and setting of the early 90's NYC theater scene, like the protagonist himself, has so infrequently been given attention on the big or small screen that Miranda has the advantage of immersing us in a mostly unexplored world. How many who aren't already familar with it will even be interested is the bigger question, especially since the first hour is so shaky. The cutting between the Larson monologue, Superbia musical numbers and dramatic scenes are almost dizzying and an argument could be made that only two of those numbers really work. The first, "Sunday" features a parade of Broadway legends such as André De Shields, Bebe Neuwirth, Joel Grey, Chita Rivera, Phylicia Rashad, Bernadette Peters and Brian Stokes Mitchell filling the Moondance Diner. A later number, "Therapy" sees Garfield and Vanessa Hudgens brilliantly singing and pantomiming the crazy trajectory of Jonathan and Susan's relationship. 

Interestingly enough, Hudgins' character is mostly a background player up until that number, one of the film's very best, where she just lets loose and does more in explaining the Jonathan-Susan relationship than most of the scenes Alexandra Shipp shares with Garfield, as those moments never really rise above the trope of ignored girlfriend of genius artist. The bond between Jonathan and best friend Michael carries more resonance, as does Bradley Whitford's small but memorable turn as Stephen Sondheim, providing the perfect swan song, with the legend's mentorship playing a key role in pushing Jonathan forward. Judith Light is also very good as his agent, Rosa Stevens, who honestly but compassionately gives him the exact advice he needs, regardless of how difficult it may be to hear.     

The fear that everything Jonathan's worked toward for the past eight years may have amounted to nothing, reaches this crescendo in the last act, only to kind of fizzle out, culminating in a musical number that just seems to go on and on and on. By this point, we're ready for the breakthrough. We want him write Rent, but the script's so hyper-focused on failure after failure that when his creative epiphany does come, it's mentioned almost in passing, as a backdrop to his tragic death. 

It never feels like we get a chance to celebrate anything in this picture, which may exactly be the point. Still, it seems so much was put into conveying his struggles and squeezing in as many musical numbers as possible, that things got a little muddled along the way. Despite being a wildly mixed bag of questionable choices, Tick,Tick...Boom! is still entirely watchable and one of the few near-misses I'd actually be willing to give another look at down the road. That's mainly because Garfield is such a revelation as Larson, remaining intensely focused and engaged even while the film drags its feet, frequently feeling far longer and more exhausting than its running time suggests.