THE MENU (September 2022)

 

THE MENU

(September 2022)

“Twelve customers, total.”

“A night? How do they turn a profit?”

“Twelve-fifty a head. That’s how.”

“You’re f*cking kidding, right? What are we eating, a Rolex?”

Searchlight Pictures invites us to experience The Menu (or so the opening title cards tell us).

Mark Mylod, largely known for directing some major HBO titles (like Entourage, Game of Thrones, and Succession), takes a script written by Seth Reiss and Will Tracy*, and presents us with this darkly humorous, class conscious piece that sees Ralph Fiennes as noted celebrity chef Julian Slowik.

“Here, we are family.

“Each day starts at 6, with 5 hours of prep work.

“We harvest. We ferment. We slaughter. We marinate. We liquefy. We spherify. We gel.”

Slowik, who we are told has “… always been keenly aware of food as a history of class” has risen in the ranks of celebrated chefs and now runs an exclusive restaurant on Hawthorne Island (apparently named after the restaurant, the island is “twelve acres of forest and pasture” surrounded by “the bounty of the sea”, as explained during the guided tour).

A restaurant that charges largely self-involved, entitled richies $1,250 a head for the privilege.

A restaurant described by Slowik as his “entire life”.

A restaurant run obsessively by Slowik in a practically cult-like manner, on an island without a boat or phone service.

So many red flags…

“Trust me, he’s telling a story. That’s what makes his food so exciting. He’s not just a chef. He’s a storyteller. And he doesn’t give a f*ck about the rules.”

To say any more would risk ruining the “wonderful surprises” indicated on the one sheet featuring Fiennes, so perhaps we should leave it at that, for those of you curious enough to seek this title out.

Not exactly a comedy, but not really a full-on horror movie either**, The Menu is smart, biting commentary with a killer cast (yes, that is indeed Anya Taylor-Joy on the second one sheet) that just begs to be savored and relished, as Slowik would have it…

So go on and do just that, yeah?

“You will eat less than you desire and more than you deserve.”

* The script appeared on the 2019 Black List, alongside the screenplays for:

The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent (Kevin Etten and Tom Gormican);

Don’t Worry Darling (Carey Van Dyke and Shane Van Dyke; the screenplay as filmed is credited to Katie Silberman, with the Van Dykes and Silberman getting “Story By” credits);

and the upcoming Knock at the Cabin.

What appeared on the 2019 List was the initial draft, still titled The Cabin at the End of the World, adapted by Steve Desmond and Michael Sherman from the Paul Tremblay novel.

What we’re going to get with Knock at the Cabin is the script, as rewritten and directed by M. Night Shyamalan (on the one sheets, the credits read: Screenplay by M. Night Shyamalan and Steve Desmond & Michael Sherman).

** Even the awards-giving bodies seem torn; most of the film’s nominations fall under the Comedy category, but Colin Stetson was nominated for his score at 2022’s Hollywood Music in Media awards under the Horror/Thriller Film category…

To be fair though, the HMMA apparently has no Comedy categories…

And, for the record, Michael Abels took home that particular award for his Nope score…

(The Menu OS’ courtesy of impawards.com.)

¡QUÉ HORROR! 2017

The Preliminaries

"It is happening again."
The time of year for another ¡Qué horror! rundown.

Before we get to the main list, a number of titles (film and television) that, for one reason or another, did not quite cross the line into “horror,” but were nonetheless noteworthy pieces that I felt needed to be acknowledged here.

SPLIT

(September 2016)

“Rejoice!

“The broken are the more evolved.

“Rejoice.”

This one straddled the thriller/horror line, and was ultimately a slam bang run-up to the already on-its-way Glass.

(Though don’t get me started on how this, coupled with Unbreakable, seems to point to Shyamalan echoing Grant Morrison’s Doom Patrol run just a bit too closely.)

BATES MOTEL

(February 2017)

While Bates Motel’s final season initially seemed to indicate that it was finally going to crack into the main rundown, at long last firmly crossing the thriller/horror line, shortly after the sly and gutsy inversion of episode 6, “Marion,” the show settled into tragic, dysfunctional family drama mode.

Don’t get me wrong. I loved this final season (which is why it’s getting a mention here), but, once again and for the final time, Bates Motel stared knowingly at the thriller/horror line, and pointedly declined to cross it.

TWIN PEAKS: THE RETURN

(May 2017)

Now this was something I’d never really imagined happening, but I’m so, so glad it did.

And, as with most of David Lynch’s oeuvre, while there are streaks and dollops of horror running through it, it’s a piece that really can’t be classified as “horror” (and I’m almost certain Mr. Lynch wouldn’t think of it as that, either).

And just as he did on Twin Peaks’ original ABC run, Lynch not only pushes the television envelope here, he tears it to shreds.

The a tad over 40 minute journey we take in episode 8, in which we meet the “Woodsman” (AKA Mr. “Got-a-Light?”) is the most harrowing 40 minutes of television I have ever seen.

After over a quarter of a century, Twin Peaks still remains the Best Television Show I have been blessed to have experienced, and The Return is a blistering and thoroughly welcome third season addition to it.

Oh, and good on the Roadhouse, for upping their game with the musicians they’ve invited onto their stage…

“… I don’t even know what to call it… this piece of art or… ‘cause I feel like calling it a television show… it aired on television, but it doesn’t feel like a television show for all the best possible reasons…”

--Damon Lindelof, on Twin Peaks: The Return

(Split & Twin Peaks: The Return OS’ courtesy of bloody-disguting.com; Bates Motel OS courtesy of impawards.com.)

THE HAPPENING
(Review)

“If the bee disappeared off the surface of the globe then man would only have four years of life left.”
-- attributed to Albert Einstein

Regardless of how I ultimately feel about any particular M. Night Shyamalan film, one of the things I can generally count on is the fact that the performances will be uniformly top notch.
For the first time though, it’s the performances I have a problem with…


Mark Wahlberg plays Elliot Moore, a high school Science teacher, who, along with wife Alma (Zooey Deschanel), serve as the main protagonists of Shyamalan’s latest (and first R-rated) effort, The Happening.
In the film, a bizarre occurrence in New York’s Central Park sparks fears of a terrorist attack, and the Moores join Elliot’s best friend Julian (John Leguizamo), and Julian’s daughter Jess (Ashlyn Sanchez), as they leave Philadelphia by train to join Julian’s mother, away from the city.


Now, just to be clear, I’m not necessarily saying that the acting in The Happening is bad, but rather, I do think there’s been some serious miscasting here.
Wahlberg, Deschanel, and Leguizamo, as expected, all bring their own levels of quirk to their characters, and I can imagine Shyamalan wanted actors who could partially offset the grim scenario that unfolds onscreen.
What we occasionally get though, are performances that don’t seem to be taking place in the same movie. Strangely, there seems to be a remove here, particularly for Deschanel, who mostly feels as if she’s tuned to an altogether different frequency. (And I love Deschanel, so it kills me that she seems so out of place in The Happening.)
And mind, I’m not asking for extreme histrionics here, but rather, a little more emotional indication of the gravity of the situation.


Wahlberg is also oddly off-synch here for some reason. There are two particular scenes that stand out in my mind as bothersome.
One—in which Elliot falls back on his Science teacher mindset to push him into action—is unintentionally funny, while another—in which he tries to communicate with what he believes is the film’s central threat—is meant to be funny, but isn’t.
Again, I really think this is more a case of miscasting than anything else, and perhaps, Shyamalan looking for something in the performances that just doesn’t jibe very well with the film’s overall tone.


Also, by the very nature of the premise, we really don’t have any luxury to get to know the characters as well as we normally do in a Shyamalan film.
The scenario doesn’t afford the script any significant lulls in which to explore character in the way Shyamalan usually does, thus, there’s that nagging feeling that the Moores aren’t as well fleshed-out as characters were in, say, The Sixth Sense or Unbreakable.


Where The Happening does succeed though, is in the frightening and troubling scenario Shyamalan posits; the set pieces that showcase the havoc wreaked by the film’s central threat are wildly disturbing.
And the nature of that central threat is also alarmingly within the realm of possibility.
Man has spent centuries believing himself the master of his own destiny, when the truth is, very little is under our control; even our very own bodies have the potential to betray us, and at the very end, they do.
If we’re not even in complete control of our selves, how can we even dare to believe that we’ve brought the world to heel?


Any notion of man at the top of the hill, in the driver’s seat, or whichever metaphor you choose to use, is a dangerous delusion. We’ve raped and plundered the environment while enshrouded by that hubris.
We as a species are on a path that seems to be headed for ruin, oblivious—or worse, uncaring—of how our existence impacts on everything else around us.
Thus, when some horrible effect rises in response to the cause which is the human race, it really shouldn’t come as any surprise.
Some schools of thought liken our species to a disease on the body of Mother Earth, and if that is true, then the antibodies have to kick in sooner or later, right?


The Happening may be flawed, but it’s nonetheless a chilling cautionary tale of an Armageddon all-too terrifying, and all-too plausible in its inexplicability.
If only for that reason, it’s a film that really should be seen, and just maybe, it’ll cause us to be a little more introspective of ourselves, before it’s too late.
Then, with any luck, we may keep on existing, there, but for the grace of Whatever Else Is Out There.

“Science will come up with some reason to put in the books, but in the end, it’ll be just a theory. We will fail to acknowledge that there are forces at work beyond our understanding.
“To be a good scientist, you must have a respectful awe for the laws of nature.”

(The Happening OS courtesy of wired.com; images courtesy of empiremovies.com, beyondhollywood.com, and shocktillyoudrop.com.)

reVIEW (20)
WAR OF THE WORLDS

With the latest Body Snatchers redux, The Invasion, about to hit theatres, I thought to look back at another recent alien invasion redux.

Steven Spielberg is the undisputed Popcorn Movie King: exhibits A and B—Raiders of the Lost Ark and Jurassic Park. (By Popcorn Movie, I mean a movie that’s fun, and fun to watch, doesn’t have any deep moral truths in it, but doesn’t insult the audience’s intelligence, either.)
And though there have been pretenders to the throne (Roland Emmerich: Independence Day and Godzilla; Stephen Sommers: The Mummy films and Van Helsing), and an upstart challenger (Kerry Conran: Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow), Spielberg still sits squarely on the throne.
It is in the milieu of the Popcorn Movie where Spielberg’s admittedly manipulative brand of storytelling is most at home, the button-pushing and emotion-cueing, welcome, and in point of fact, expected by the Popcorn Audience.
Spielberg’s post-millennial redux of H.G. Wells’ War of the Worlds however, is not a Popcorn Movie.

The thing is, though War is by no stretch of the imagination, a horrible movie, it really isn’t all that fun to watch. In this updated, Americanized version of Wells’ tale, Ray Ferrier (Tom Cruise) is a divorced father in charge of his two children, Robbie (Justin Chatwin) and Rachel (Dakota Fanning), for the weekend. This, of course, the weekend that cruel, bloodthirsty aliens decide to put their millennia-old plan of territorial take-over into effect.
Taking a page from M. Night Shyamalan’s Signs, we are treated to the Everyman’s point of view of a global crisis.
In the past, protagonists of movies of this ilk were either military men or scientists, by virtue of their profession, at the forefront of the action. Alternately, if they were civilians, they would still invariably find themselves in the middle of things, reluctant heroes, pivotal roles thrust upon them, the fate of humanity in their hands.
In War, as in Signs, the main characters are on the far-flung periphery, their motivation, to weather the storm. To survive. Thoughts of “How are we going to stop this alien invasion?” dwarfed by questions like, “How do we get to Boston?” and “What’s my daughter going to eat if she’s allergic to peanut butter?”
Of course, given that this is a Steven Spielberg film, it’s got a whole lot of Hollywood in its celluloid DNA. It is, actually, rather like the Hollywood version of Signs. And I mean that in the best and worst possible ways.

It’s got all the gee-whiz-bang CGI explosions and property damage you could ask for (the sequences of the tripods in urban decimation mode are some of the most heart-stuttering, jaw-dropping scenes I’ve seen in any alien invasion movie), as well as characters so painfully Everyman, they’re generic.
What we know of Ray is the barest glimmer of a personality. All we know is, his children don’t really know who he is. Well, kids, to paraphrase Spielberg’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind, You are not alone.
Ray’s kids, meanwhile, are the Rebellious, Angry Teen and Screaming, High-Strung Little Girl. Not much hope there, either.
In the void of any honest emotional connection with the film’s characters, the audience is left to do the Everyman thing and project themselves onto the scenario, which sometimes works, and more often doesn’t.
But given the Hollywood genes in War, it’s no surprise that Ray, Everyman schmoe that he is, still somehow manages to, a) damage a tripod with an axe, when trained military forces couldn’t seem to dent it with heavy artillery, and b) fortuitously find some grenades just when they can most come in handy.

Which is not to say Spielberg’s War isn’t worth its price of admission: if cars and buildings going boom are your thing, hey, knock yourself out. And there is some truly evil camerawork (undoubtedly computer-aided) as Ray and kids make their exodus from the city on the freeway, courtesy of long-time Spielberg cinematographer Janusz Kaminski.
It’s just that, as I said, it isn’t really fun to watch.
It’s isn’t fun seeing people get vaporized, or worse, turn on each other for a vehicle. Now, if this had been some sort of anti-war Statement, then perhaps I would have seen the point. But it isn’t.
It isn’t a Popcorn Movie. It isn’t a moving story of real, tangible individuals in a crisis (as was Signs). It isn’t a Statement Film.
So, in the end, I have to ask, What is it, then?

Parting Shot: Are all Earth-invading species inherently stupid? In Signs, a race whose Kryptonite is water attacks a planet that is 75% water. In War of the Worlds, they planned millennia for this, and didn’t think to bring along some cold medicine? Haven’t these people heard of advance scouts?

(War of the Worlds OS courtesy of impawards.com.)

(The above review was previously published in 2005 under the title, “Sound and Fury.”)

ENTOURAGE
Season 4 Episode 4
“Sorry, Harvey”

Drama is taking the mayor of Beverly Hills out for the night, as he wants his condo (presently right at the border of L.A. County and Beverly Hills) to be part of an annexation that’s up for a vote. Johnny’s sucking up to the mayor, who wants to meet Vince. So Drama ropes Vince in, to help his cause.
Meanwhile, E girds his loins for his face-to-face with Harvey, who is under the impression that they’re all going to Cannes together, in glory. E has to face the notoriously volatile Hollywood power player, and tell him, “Well, we’ve screwed you again.”

At a club, Drama sets the mayor up with Anika, who as it turns out, is a transvestite. When Drama tells the mayor, he is at first shocked, but then asks for discretion from Drama, as he feels a “connection” with Anika, and doesn’t really care what’s under the skirt.
But when the mayor leaves with Anika, exactly what’s under the tranny’s skirt is caught on camera, and pops up on the Internet the next morning, effectively sounding the death knell on both the mayor and Drama getting a nine-oh-two-one-oh zip.
And E’s attempts at telling Harvey keep on getting aborted, until Drama gets tired of the song-and-dance and blurts it out, sending Harvey into an apoplectic fit.


There’s also one of the best guest turns on the show thus far, as M. Night Shyamalan has Ari read his next script. (The details are just too much fun to disclose here. Try and watch the episode if you haven’t seen it yet!)

Parting shot: One wonders what the Entourage writers have against Harvey. (The real Harvey, I mean…)

(Episode image courtesy of hbo.com; M. Night Shyamalan image courtesy of ifmagazine.com.)