The Menu

There is an appealing directness to The Menu. It knows it is a horror film, understands the expectations attached to that label, and then looks for small ways to give the material its own voice. Directed by Mark Mylod, it leans on Ralph Fiennes and Anya Taylor Joy to give the material a human centre. At story level, couple, travels and remote shape the central setup, but the later turns are best left for the film to reveal.

⁠

The horror works best through atmosphere rather than constant noise. Careful pauses, uneasy framing and the suggestion of danger create more tension than the obvious shocks, and the cast sells the fear by treating the situation seriously. The balance holds more often than it slips. A clear directorial hand keeps the story moving, while the performers bring personality to material that could have felt routine. The film's pleasures are modest, but they are genuine and consistently delivered.

⁠

Performance wise, Ralph Fiennes provides the most dependable anchor, bringing focus to the film whenever the plot threatens to become mechanical. Anya Taylor Joy offers a useful contrast in energy, and Nicholas Hoult helps widen the emotional range of the ensemble. The acting is not equally subtle in every scene, but the group understands the required tone and rarely appears to be performing in different films.

⁠

Thematically, The Menu is interested in fear as a response to lost control, isolation and the suspicion that familiar spaces can no longer be trusted. The scares carry more weight when they grow from those pressures, turning atmosphere into an extension of character rather than a separate attraction. The film is most persuasive when these ideas emerge from behaviour rather than speeches. That additional layer gives the story more purpose than a sequence of familiar genre beats, even if every implication is not explored with equal depth.

⁠

The filmmaking supports suspense through limitation. Framing withholds useful information, the edit stretches moments without stopping them, and sound often points toward a threat before the image confirms it. These choices are familiar, yet they are applied with enough discipline to keep the viewer alert to space, silence and the possibility of a sudden change.

⁠

A more disciplined edit would help. The middle loses a little urgency, and several ideas are introduced without receiving equal attention. Even so, the film regains its footing whenever it returns to the central performances.

⁠

Overall, The Menu is a solid, likeable film with more strengths than weaknesses. I would recommend it to horror viewers who value mood, tension and committed performances over nonstop jump scares, provided expectations stay realistic.