A Famous Chef Serves a Luxurious and Deadly Dining Experience

Ralph Fiennes and Anya Taylor-Joy 
in "The Menu"
Photo Credit: RottenTomatoes.com

It’s always neat to see films about cooking.  While we’ve had movies like “Ratatouille” and “Chef” that’ve made audiences salivate over what they’re watching, we also had a film like last year’s “Pig” and this year’s hit TV series “The Bear” present a very tense side to how chefs and cooking are presented on screen.  As with any industry, there’ve been changes to how we view dining, with the rise in food bloggers, social-media photos of meals, and trendy restaurants.

Director Mark Mylod uses that as the focus for his darkly comedic thriller, “The Menu,” a film that offers an enjoyable and tense ride that will make you feel the heat of the kitchen.

When Tyler (Nicholas Hoult) and his companion, Margot (Anya Taylor-Joy), get invited with other guests to a high-end restaurant run by celebrity chef Julian Slowik (Ralph Fiennes) on a private island, they’re given a dinner unlike anything they’ve encountered.  However, as the night goes, it becomes clear that the guests’ lives may be at stake.

Fiennes brings a disturbing performance as the militaristic chef who demands perfection from course to course.  He delivers an uncomfortable sense of serenity as he moves around his restaurant and kitchen, showing someone who’s at one with his surroundings and in total control of the culinary hierarchy.  He never fails to make you quiver as you keep wondering what dastardly tricks he has hidden under his chef’s jacket.  Fiennes carries a piercing look in his eye and a calm voice as he speaks with others, showing a faux friendliness that’s hiding something much more sinister.

Taylor-Joy delivers a fine performance as someone who’s wittily unimpressed with the pageantry of the island restaurant.  As she accomplished in many of her other film roles, Taylor-Joy elicits an on-screen magnetism and confidence of an actress who never feels the need to overdue it when performing, but can draw your attention with the simplest of movements and line deliveries.  Taylor-Joy’s presents someone who’s wise to the façade of pretentious restaurants and is immune to their self-indulgent, complicated dining rituals.

While the whole supporting cast is fun to watch, the two standouts are Hoult and Hong Chau, who plays Elsa, the restaurant’s maitre d’ and Slowik’s second-in-command.  Hoult is entertainingly annoying as someone who’s obsessed with Slowik, doing whatever he can to stay in Slowik’s good graces and impress him with his knowledge of food.  Meanwhile, Chau is unnerving and darkly funny as her character keeps a watchful eye over the guests to ensure that everything happens according to her boss’ liking.

The screenplay by Seth Reiss and Will Tracy loses some of its subtly near the end, but it still offers a funny, thrilling, and disturbing premise that’ll entice you with its sense of mystery as you wonder where it’s all headed and what will become of the guests.  The narrative’s broken into sections, each focusing on a course of the meal, and as we move further into the evening, we’re left to speculate what devilish ideas the writers have planned for the unwitting guests.  Despite the aforementioned heavy-handedness near the end, the rest of the movie is still able to make the characters humorous without going overboard with their obnoxiousness, and the mix of humor and violent shocks within the story keeps you absorbed in the craziness of the situation.   

Mylod keeps the suspense going as we move from one course to another.  With the many pressure-cooker confrontations between the characters and not knowing what a certain course is going to contain, Mylod highlights those interactions with the claustrophobic nature of the film’s setting.  Through this, he makes us feel the growing apprehension that the characters go through as they start to realize that they might not make it out of the restaurant alive.

If your stomach is growling for an entertaining, fast-paced original thriller, “The Menu” has many of the right ingredients.

Grade: A- 

While Recovering, a Veteran Figures Out Her Next Move

Jennifer Lawrence in "Causeway"
Photo Credit: RottenTomatoes.com

While movies about war are mostly well-known for showing what happens on the battlefield, it’s also important to show what occurs when the servicemen and servicewomen are back home. Classics like “The Best Years of Our Lives” and “Born on the Fourth of July,” and modern examples like “American Sniper,” “Thank You for Your Service,” and “Leave No Trace,” in one way of another, deal with how veterans adjust to life after they serve their tours of duty.

In her feature directorial debut, Lila Neugebauer gives us the psychological-drama, “Causeway,” which provides a nuanced and poignant examination of a veteran planning the transition into a new phase of her life.

Lynsey (Jennifer Lawrence) returns home to New Orleans as she continues to recover from a severe brain injury that she sustained while serving in Afghanistan.  As time goes on, she tries to readjust to society, all while facing the choice of whether or not to redeploy.

Now that Lawrence is finished with franchise films, it’s great to see her get back to the intimate kind of drama that propelled her to stardom over a decade ago with her work in “Winter’s Bone.” She portrays a similar kind of character in “Causeway,” an individual who has a fierce independence and a method of moving about in the world.  In the film, Lynsey goes from thousand-yard stares into eventual looks of intense contemplation as she tries to figure out a future purpose.  There’s a resiliency that Lawrence brings out that’s as admirable as it is heartbreaking because, as much as you applaud Lynsey’s desire to get by on her own, you want her to get the help that she needs and not feel like she has to go at it alone, and Lawrence finds that balance of someone who knows what she’s doing, but is also lost.  She gives one of her finest performances that thrives on hard emotions delivered in low-key ways.  

Brian Tyree Henry gives an equally great performance as James, a mechanic who befriends Lynsey and who’s trying to overcome his own traumatic past.  His friendly, understanding personality is a solace that brings us through this uncertain period of Lynsey’s life as she travels through rough terrain to do what she needs to do, and at the same time, Henry displays a relief of having Lynsey as someone with whom to talk.  Henry gives his character a laid-back charm of someone who will help you and talk with you, but is also weighed down by a troubled past.

The screenplay by Ottessa Mosefegh, Luke Goebel, and Elizabeth Sanders has the whole narrative take place in the U.S., with us only receiving accounts about Lynsey’s tour of duty as she describes it to others.  This is an uninterrupted view of Lynsey’s character, with the screenplay having her being in every scene and showing her time as a civilian.  It all offers an intimate study of how trauma impacts someone, with the narrative showing us scenes of both Lynsey by herself and with people, exhibiting how she manages herself in both cases.

Throughout the story, we’re given tidbits about the trouble that Lynsey had growing up in her household, and it’s just enough to go by without losing track of what’s important in the story. Although we get a couple of meaningful scenes between Lynsey and her immediate family, the movie doesn’t forget that this is about Lynsey readjusting to the life she left behind, not so much confronting her past as it is about focusing on her present and future.

Neugebauer often frames Lynsey against out-of-focus backgrounds that emphasize the fogginess of her mind following the injury and to place us in the disconnect that she feels with her home and the people around her.  With this type of cinematography by Diego García, we remain in Lynsey’s headspace as she tries to navigate civilian life and consider the next stage of her life.  The way in which Neugebauer and García have the camera follow Lynsey has us feel the displacement that she experiences as she tries to reacquaint herself with her hometown.

In a film about overcoming a painful past, “Causeway” shows that how, even after we’ve been through the worst, there’s always a way back.

Grade: A

A Father-Daughter Vacation Brings Some Baggage

Frankie Corio and Paul Mescal 
in "Aftersun"
Photo Credit: RottenTomatoes.com

While a vacation is meant to be a time of relaxation and fun, movies have shown us that there’s also a chance to contemplate on your getaway and try to work out any issues that might have built up between you and your loved ones.  What writer-director Charlotte Wells does with her feature filmmaking debut in the mediative drama, “Aftersun,” is bring us on a trip to observe the deeper layers of the father-daughter relationship at its center.

Calum (Paul Mescal) is a divorced father who, along with his 11-year-old daughter, Sophie (Frankie Corio), travels to Turkey for a vacation.  Twenty years later, an older Sophie (Celia Rowlson-Hall) reflects on the time she spent  with him and ponder the sides of her father that he was hesitant to reveal.

Mescal delivers a tender performance that shows a loving and attentive father, but also displays something that’s quietly heartbreaking that allows us to wonder what’s troubling his mind.  Throughout the film, Mescal gives moving work as a parent who tries to provide his daughter with some time away and does his best to connect with her.  However, throughout the first half of the film, there are faint traces of melancholy in his demeanor that expand into something deeper in the second half, showing us more of Calum’s brokenness and leaving us to ponder what’ll become of his and Sophie’s relationship as he keeps everything bottled up for her sake.

Corio is wonderful in a breakout performance as a young girl who shows hints of adventurousness as she takes in the foreign surroundings, sharing her father’s eagerness to explore and attempt new things.  Corio shows Sophie as someone who tries to bring herself across as mature for her age, occasionally showing a desire to go off on her own once in a while to be with others, sometimes hanging out with people a little older than her so she can exhibit her maturity.  It’s a maturity that’s rooted in something that’s a little more poignant than expected, all in a character who tends to make decisions for herself and handle things on her because she knows, as if on some deeper level, that her father won’t be around forever.

Although Wells’ screenplay is more character-driven than plot-driven, which causes it to meander a tad from time to time, Wells combats this by inserting some details here and there that hint at what’s going on behind the scenes in Calum’s life.  When we have the fleeting glimpses into the future, it doesn’t feel like we’re short changed from not seeing more of that side of the story.  Instead, having only the briefest of views in the future allows more room for speculation, letting us save most of the analyzing power for the timeline in the past to see clues as to what might cause the tension that we see in the quick glimpses of the future.

As a director, Wells offers some understated work in having us experiencing the figurative distance from the characters, all with the help of cinematography by Gregory Oak.  In order to emphasize the ambiguity of what’s going on in the lives of Calum and Sophie and what they’re keeping from us, Oak and Wells sometimes have us view these characters through a glass barrier (such as a phone booth or a sliding balcony door) or through a TV screen as a video camera hooked to the TV films them as they record vacation videos.  Other times, there won’t be any sense of separation, with us getting closeups of Calum and Sophie being together and having us analyze them in those spaces, or viewing them separately to see how they experience time on their own.  We get the feeling of being both opened to and closed off from the characters, going back and forth between those sensations and feeling absorbed in what we try to learn about Calum and Sophie.

In the case of “Aftersun,” the beauty isn’t just in the locales, but in the characters and the look into their lives.

Grade: A-

One Afternoon, Friends No More

Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson in 
"The Banshees of Inisherin"
Photo Credit: RottenTomatoes.com

When you walk into a movie from writer-director Martin McDonagh, you know to expect a film that’ll mix humor, shades of darkness, bits of startling violence.  It’s a confidence in these accomplished tonal shifts that have resulted in his terrific films like 2008’s “In Bruges,” 2012’s “Seven Psychopaths,” and 2017’s “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri.”  You have wit and bleakness bouncing off each other at a stable rate, and it’s the presence of such shifts that add to the unpredictability of his films.

McDonagh takes us to Ireland for his latest comedy-drama, “The Banshees of Inisherin,” a film that brings you into the lives of it’s two complicated characters and slowly introduces you to the world around them.

Set in 1923 during the Irish Civil War on the fictional island of Inisherin, the story follows Pádraic Súilleabháin (Colin Farrell) who’s told by his friend, Colm Doherty (Brendan Gleeson), that he doesn’t want to be friends anymore.  Not knowing what he did wrong, Pádraic tries to find out the reason behind their broken friendship and try to mend it.

Farrell, who starred in “In Bruges” and “Seven Psychopaths,” does an endearing portrayal of someone with whom you could just sit down and have a friendly chat.  Even from his opening scene, with him smiling and enjoying his walk to invite Colm to the pub, it’s difficult to imagine why Colm will end up breaking their bond just seconds later.  The way in which Farrell shows his character to be confused and saddened by this unexpected turn of events gives you a pang of heartbreak as you see a pleasant, everyday man feel at a loss for what’s going on.  However, through the affable personality that Farrell brings forth in his character, he helps us feel some optimism that he might be able to fix this relationship.  

Gleeson, who started in “In Bruges” and McDonagh’s 2004 short film, “Six Shooter,” exhibits someone who has a rather somber personality and is difficult to read.  He shows Colm as a person who seems to be immovable from their decision to cut some ties and move on with his life.  He’s not one to raise his voice, but adamant in the route he intends to take.  The mixture of calmness and sternness that Gleeson brings to his character has you wonder about the sincerity behind some of the more threatening things that he says, leaving you to wonder where his character’s going to end up as the movie goes on.

Although all of the characters get their moments of humor, Barry Keoghan offers the film’s funniest performance as Dominic Kearney, a dim-witted yet kindhearted Inisherin resident who hangs around with Pádraic.  Whenever Keoghan’s on screen, he never fails to make you laugh and fall in love with his character.  There’s a roll-with-the-punches attitude to him (figuratively and, sadly, sometimes literally) that makes him someone for whom you feel sympathy and who, just like Farrell, only wants to have someone with whom he can talk and share some free time.

Kerry Condon, who plays Pádraic’s sister, Siobhán, displays a steadfastness in watching out for her brother to make sure he stays out of trouble and provides him with some sense.  Condon gives her character an attitude of someone who’s built her life and home on hard work, making sure to provide warmth for those who need it.  She’s there to help you through a tough time, but has the tell-it-like-it-is energy of an individual who’ll let know you when you’re being thickheaded.

The screenplay by McDonagh is richly detailed in how it presents its characters.  Not only do we get the intimate and powerful interactions between Pádraic, Colm, Dominic, and Siobhán, but we also see them talk very often with the other citizens of the region.  This provides us with a wonderful look at how the people of this village talk, think, and feel, making you come away with a sense of knowing the smaller characters every bit as much as the bigger ones.  Along with the rift between Pádraic and Colm, there’s stress between other pairs of characters as well, whether it’s seen in detail or briefly, it adds up to a poignant theme of the difficulties of moving on when a relationship is broken.  This theme is layered with an emotional parallel with the Irish Civil War that happens in the background (we sometimes hear explosions in the distance on Ireland’s mainland).  This parallel never becomes ham-fisted, but is rather an effective symbol for what’s going on in the foreground, with people who thought themselves to be friends now being at odds with each other.

Other than the work that McDonagh gives to his characters, he allows his story to bring us around the village and absorb the setting.  He constructs a familiarity with the community to let us see how it plays into the lives of the characters, be it a church, a bar, a village shop, a lake, or docks on the oceanic shore.  With the help of cinematographer Ben Davis, who provided the camerawork for “Seven Psychopaths” and “Three Billboards,” offers gorgeous shots of Inisherin.  Whether it be cozy, candlelit homes, the church as it’s backlit by the sun, a peaceful lake amongst the hills, aerial views of the lushly green fields, or the sandy shores near the cliffs, we experience every ounce of beauty that Inisherin possesses.

As a director, McDonagh’s ability to mix lightheartedness with darker aspects is as strong as ever.  It isn’t any surprise when his movie gets into some gloomy territory, but there’s an effectiveness to be felt when you’re laughing for a sizable portion of the movie, only to be feeling something very different later on.  The expert blend of dread and hopefulness keeps you on your toes as you wait to see if or how Pádraic and Colm will resolve their differences.

There’s a moment in the film where a character (I’m ashamed to say that I forget which one) mentions how maybe banshees aren’t the spirits that the people think they are, specters that scream and portend death.  Perhaps, those spirits just stay in the background and observe what happens to the characters.  That’s what “The Banshees of Inisherin” asks of us, and you’ll be moved by what you witness.

Grade: A

A Conductor Has a Famed Career, Then a Long Fall from the Podium

Cate Blanchett in "Tár"
Photo Credit: RottenTomatoes.com

The opening scene of writer-director Todd Field’s psychological-drama, “Tár,” makes a promise as to what kind of movie this is going to be, and delivers on it.  Unfolding as a lengthy Q&A segment between renowned composer-conductor Lydia Tár (Cate Blanchett) and “New Yorker” staff writer Adam Gopnik (playing himself), we’re shown that this is going to be a film that’ll dive right into the mind of its main character and provide you with an unfiltered look at who she is.  Right from that introductory scene, it’s impossible to not want to know more her.

The story follows Lydia as she prepares her orchestra for a live recording of Mahler’s 5th Symphony.  When some unsettling allegations come to light about Lydia, she must face what’s being said about her as her life and career begin to fall apart.

Blanchett gives a career-defining performance as Lydia Tár.  In another fall-from-grace performance that calls to mind her work in “Blue Jasmine” (although two VERY different stories, Blanchett shows Lydia's troubled conscious as she tries to hold on to what she’s built for herself when the truth about her past begins to surface.  She gives Tár an unsettling blend of an obsessive need to be knowledgeable and a need to be controlling, showing an individual who might be more unstable than she lets on.  Blanchett also provides Lydia with an authoritative and intimidating presence for the first half of the movie when her character’s life is still on track.  This is an original character, so we don’t have prior material that shows how this person might portray herself.  However, as we get to see who she is, we remain a bit on edge.  This is evident in a segment early on in the film, about which I’ll go into a little more detail later on, which is a long take where Blanchett is shown to have memorized her lines and movements in such a masterful way.  It’s a scene that plants us right into Lydia’s headspace, and is a sequence that proves once again why she’s one of the modern greats of screen acting.  

Nina Hoss gives an emotional performance as Lydia’s concertmaster and wife, Sharon.  She exhibits her character as someone who loves Lydia and shares her passion for music, which makes it all the more painful when Sharon begins to feel a distance growing between them, only to then feel an intense betrayal of trust when she realizes the kind of person Lydia really is.  Hoss shows the heartache that such a betrayal has on her, and you feel the life that they’ve made come crashing down as Sharon must figure out how to move on.

Noémie Merlant provides equally great supporting work as Lydia’s assistant, Francesca.  Merlant displays her character’s unwavering attentiveness to her job, while also showing hints here and there of what could be resentment towards her boss.  Oftentimes, Merlant seems as though her character’s holding back her true feelings for the sake of staying on good terms with Lydia.  However, once she finds out about Lydia’s past, Merlant exhibits her character’s disillusionment as she starts to see her boss as a very different person, offering a compelling turn for Francesca that has you ponder in which direction this professional relationship will go.

Field’s screenplay offers many scenes that play out for pretty extensive lengths, oftentimes being discussions between two characters that offer tremendous detail into their knowledge of music or their inner selves.  It’s sequences like that this that sink you right into the characters’ lives and are significant discussions that fit into a much, much bigger picture.  What’s remarkable is how Field’s narrative’s able to allow us to learn so much about Lydia without the story feeling the need to offer large chunks of backstory.  Instead, he allows us to absorb what’s going on in Lydia’s present and glean from that the details from past events.  By keeping the whole story linear, this helps maintain the momentum of the course of the film as we experience Lydia’s decline becoming more and more intense.

The cinematography by Florian Hoffmeister uses factors like mirrors, darkness, and the cavernous spaces of Lydia and Sharon’s apartment to unsettle us and invite us further into Lydia’s state of being and her ongoing unraveling.  He also often uses long takes to allow the camera to explore spaces uninterrupted, or let layered discussions unfold without edits, so that we see constant movement from the characters.  One such scene where this technique stands out tremendously is an early scene in which we see Lydia teaching a class at Juilliard.  The camera follows her around as she talks with her students, a scene that leads to her and one of her students having a disagreement.  The tension builds into what’s one of the best scenes of the film and keeps you wondering what the next two hours have in store for you.

This is only Field’s third film as a director after 2001’s “In the Bedroom” and 2006’s “Little Children,” so it’s impressive to see his ability to construct a two-and-a-half-hour character study that maintains an epic feel with its length, visuals, and deep dive into its titular character.  He keeps a persistent tension as we experience everything falling out of place in Lydia’s life, and her scramble to keep it all together, as well as some effective creepiness as Lydia’s psyche begins to show cracks.  The full command that Field has on display when working on this level of dramatic scope has you bear witness to another example of a filmmaker who, despite having not directed many films, clearly knows what he’s doing when trying something different.

“Tár” is the best film of the year so far, being a blazing example of a filmmaker and actress working together to push their talents further, with Blanchett as the first chair, and Field as the conductor.

Grade: A