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Tag: The Menu

  • The 10 Best Satire Films of the 21st Century

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    Comedy gets the short end of the critically acclaimed stick. Best Picture winners tend to be the heady dramas and the tearjerker biopics – what makes us laugh just isn’t valued as much as what makes us cry. So what’s comedy to do? Walk its clown shoes down the road to the bus stop and hitch a ride to Artistic Irrelavence-Ville? No, the answer: rebrand. Comedy might not get any respect from the critics, but satire? That’s another matter entirely. Perhaps it’s the cynicism and darkness of the genre that feels in the ballpark of the tragic greats. Or maybe it’s that labeling things as “satire” just makes critics feel smart? You can decide the answer for yourself with the 10 best satire films of the 21st century.

    Don’t Look Up

    Two scientists trail after the president and her assistant in "Don
    (Netflix)

    Adam McKay’s Don’t Look Up is the spiritual successor to Idiocracy, a parable about government incompetence and national stupidity for the modern era. A comet of human civilization destroying proportions is on a collision course with the Earth, and astronomer duo Kate and Randall are the only two people on the planet who understand the gravity of the threat – no pun intended. The pair attempt to rally humanity’s best minds to come up with a solution, but the only intellects they come across are below average at best. While the American government is at first gung ho at solving the problem with a nuclear bombardment, they’re convinced otherwise by independent billionaires who want to mine the planet-destroyer for rare minerals – oblivious to the fact that there won’t be anywhere left to spend the money after impact. It’s an examination of the stupidity of American oligarchy, how the powerful and the powerfully uninformed are often one and the same – with devastating consequences for the rest of humanity.

    Sorry To Bother You

    lakeith stanfield tessa thompson
    (Annapurna Pictures)

    Boots Riley’s Sorry To Bother You takes place in a near future capitalist dystopia – and by near future, with the way things are currently going, that could mean a couple months from now at best. In order to make ends meet, Cassius “Cash” Green takes a job as a telemarketer for a powerful conglomerate – and discovers that he makes double the sales when he uses his “white voice” on calls. As Cash quickly soars through the company ranks, he learns that his higher-ups are have their fingers in quite a few morally dubious pies – weapons manufacturing, genetic engineering, and slave labor. It’s whacky sci-fi satire with teeth – an exploration of how far one can go to game the system before becoming part of that system itself.

    Idiocracy

    Terry Crews in "Idiocracy"
    (20th Century Fox)

    A sci-fi send-up of the Bush years, Idiocracy is an unflinchingly critical glimpse into 00’s America from 500 years into the future. Handpicked by the government for their perfectly average intelligences, Joe and Rita are placed in suspended animation by the U.S. military, reawakening in the 26th century. Things haven’t changed for the better, rampant consumerism and lowbrow cultural consciousness have caused human intelligence to reach its nadir. Now the two smartest people on Earth, Joe and Rita work to save humanity from its own worst enemy: itself. Newly hired by President Dwayne Elizondo Mountain Dew Herbert Camacho (played by Terry Crews in a career best performance) Joe and Rita are expected to solve America’s failing crops and stagnant economy – or face a public execution via monster truck rally. You thought the United States was bad in the 21st century? You ain’t seen nothing yet.

    American Psycho

    patrick bateman sweating
    (Lionsgate)

    Directed by Mary Harron, American Psycho is a satire done so well that of its fans unironically lionize the very things that the film critiques. A glimpse into vapid New York City culture in the 1980’s, the film follows Wall Street worker Patrick Bateman – who moonlights as a cannibalistic serial killer. Bateman is the poster-boy for the idea of the successful American male: he’s handsome, muscular, wealthy, powerful and he gets laid (when he pays for it). He’s also one of the most shallow, empty, vicious, pathetic, and depraved characters in cinema history. As the film oscillates between Bateman’s mundane appraisals of business cards and nightmarish butchery of human bodies, the central thesis of the film becomes clear: “you’d have to be crazy to work on Wall Street – just look at this guy.” Sadly, there’s a subsection of the film’s accolades that accept Bateman as an enviable success object on its face – rather than a depraved lunatic under the peel-off skincare mask.

    What We Do In The Shadows

    Vampires hiss in "What We Do In The Shadows"
    (Madman Entertainment)

    The ultimate pop cultural sendup,  Jemaine Clement and Taika Waititi’s What We Do In The Shadows lampoons a fan favorite stock character that lives rent free in the social psyche: the vampire. Dangerous, debonaire, sexy, scary, scintillating – this mockumentary’s suburban vampire subjects are none of these things. They take the public bus to their hunting grounds, they struggle to work computers, and they have petty rivalries with the local werewolf population. The ultimate cultural boner killer, the film demystifies the vampiric ideal from the reality. Aside from the blood drinking, the bat transformations, and the gauchely gothic sensibilities, they’re people just like us. Undead people, but people. Messy. Insecure. Probably a little more violent than the average person – but when your life depends on drinking others, you do what you gotta do.

    Thank You For Smoking

    A man holds a lighter in front of an American flag in "Thank You For Smoking"
    (Fox Searchlight Pictures)

    Jason Reitman’s Thank You For Smoking is the story of Nick Naylor, a spokesman for the “research” organization The Academy of Tobacco Studies – which is really just a tobacco company lobby in disguise. Peddling the lie that there’s no link between smoking and lung disease, Nick and his friends gleefully manipulate the public into a false sense of cigarette security. While Nick knows that he’s not telling the truth, he simply doesn’t care – so long as it makes Big Tobacco more money. It’s a send up of one of the most famous modern conspiracies: tobacco company efforts to convince the public that smoking isn’t a health hazard. It’s peak black comedy – the same shade as your lungs after a lifetime of inhaling what these sheisters peddle.

    Borat

    A shirtless man gives two thumbs up in "Borat"
    (20th Century Fox)

    One of the most infamously quotable films of the century is Borat! Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan – directed by Larry Charles and starring Sacha Baron Cohen. A mockumentary on American culture from the point of view of a woefully uninformed Kazakh journalist, Borat is a scandalizing look into the culture of the early 2000’s. Using fearless Socratic irony, Cohen’s Borat asks his interview subjects questions from a place of feigned cultural ignorance, with cringe-inducing results. While claiming that America is “greatest country in the world,” Borat unwittingly exposes the United States to be the exact opposite – putting its close-minded nationalism and cultural bigotry on full display. Contrary to its main character’s catch phrase, this jaw-dropping satire proves that America is often anything but “very nice.”

    In The Loop

    Two men yell at each other in "In The Loop"
    (Optimum Releasing)

    Directed by Armando Iannucci, In The Loop is a British black comedy criticizes one of the most controversial foreign policy decisions of the 21st century – the U.S. invasion of Iraq. It’s the story of bumbling U.K. politician Simon Foster, who makes an offhanded on-air comment that war with Iraq is “unforeseeable” – causing the U.S. to question whether or not it staunch ally actually supports its invasion plan for the Middle East. Invited to America and caught up in internecine government drama, Simon is dragged into a war between hawks and doves debating military action. It’s a story of the messy egos at the heart of the political system, and how petty personal grievances can influence national decisions – spurred on by the ineptitude of one man. Wouldn’t wanna be Simon.

    Anya Taylor-Joy in 'The Menu'
    (Searchlight Pictures)

    Mark Mylod’s The Menu is a story of the insufferable: the whims of the wealthy, the struggles of the working class, the ambitions of the pompously artisitic, and the culture that creates it all. Wealthy Tyler brings his date Margot to a private island owned by a celebrity chef for the meal of a lifetime, and the pair discover it might just be their last. As Chef Julian Slowik rolls out the courses for his VIP clientele, they get the sneaking suspicion that they themselves are on the chopping block. The Menu is a metaphor for the inherent classism of the service industry – one whose business model depends on catering to the caprices of the rich and powerful. After a lifetime spent in service to creating great culinary art, Slowik is sick of cooking for people who don’t appreciate it. Margot meanwhile would appreciate directions to the nearest exit – chef’s got murder in his eyes.

    Triangle of Sadness

    Charlbi Dean as Yaya eating spaghetti in Triangle of Sadness
    (Neon)

    Ruben Östlund’s Triangle of Sadness is The White Lotus meets Survivor. After being invited on a trip to luxury cruise, influencer/model couple Carl and Yaya struggle to survive after the ship encounters Bermuda Triangle levels of bad luck. The Russian oligarchs, wealthy tycoons, and beautiful models are helpless to protect themselves from mechanical failures, food poisoning, and pirates – causing their cruise to collapse under the weight of its own ludicrous luxury. With no one else to turn to, the passengers select Yaya to be their de facto leader, and the carefree model is forced to shoulder the weight of useless group. How can people worth so much be capable of so little? That’s exactly the question this satire seeks to answer.

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    Sarah Fimm

    Sarah Fimm (they/them) is actually nine choirs of biblically accurate angels crammed into one pair of $10 overalls. They have been writing articles for nerds on the internet for less than a year now. They really like anime. Like… REALLY like it. Like you know those annoying little kids that will only eat hotdogs and chicken fingers? They’re like that… but with anime. It’s starting to get sad.

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    Sarah Fimm

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  • Funky Chef Unleashes the World’s First Fitted, Fashion-Forward Chef’s Jackets Tailored Exclusively for Women

    Funky Chef Unleashes the World’s First Fitted, Fashion-Forward Chef’s Jackets Tailored Exclusively for Women

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    By breaking the tradition of the classic chef coats designed with men in mind, Funky Chef is bringing fit, fashion, and function to female culinary professionals around the world

    In a revolutionary departure from the conventional kitchen uniform tailored for men, Funky Chef proudly announces the launch of its groundbreaking collection of fitted and patterned chef’s jackets specifically designed for female culinary professionals. This initiative aims to redefine industry standards by seamlessly blending fit, fashion, and functionality.

    Amidst a surge in the number of women joining the culinary realm, Funky Chef emerges as a trailblazer, addressing a significant gap in the market. The absence of chef’s jackets tailored to women’s needs remains a prevalent issue – a void that Funky Chef is committed to filling.

    Founder and CEO Hannah Staddon expressed, “Traditional chef whites were designed for men’s bodies and fail to capture the creativity, form, and function demanded by today’s female culinary professionals. Our mission is to empower the next generation of female chefs, ensuring they feel empowered in their everyday uniforms.”

    Funky Chef’s fitted jackets have already gained traction, gracing the backs of female chef influencers, yacht chefsprivate chefs, culinary educators, students and recipe developers. Notably, these stylish jackets have found their place on chefs featured in the top-10 television series, Below Deck.

    Features include a fitted cut with an adjustable waist, a shorter length with a rounded bottom, and side seam splits for more maneuverability and flattering appearance. Crafted from stretchy, lightweight and breathable cotton – printed with eco-friendly dyes – the jackets are intentionally designed to provide a comfortable fit for women across a broad spectrum of sizes, ranging from XS to 3XL. Funky Chef opted for a zip closure over the traditional buttons to ensure quick on/off and included what every girl can never get enough of – pockets. 

    The Collection comprises 10 fashion-forward designs, including classic colors, starting at $129 each, with new prints being released at the end of 2024. As part of its commitment to making a positive impact, Funky Chef pledges 1% of its profits to the Endometriosis Foundation of America. For more information about Funky Chef and to order these revolutionary chef’s coats, follow our Instagram page @funkychefco or visit www.FunkyChef.co 

    About Funky Chef: 

    Funky Chef is the world’s first and only collection of fitted and fashion-forward chef’s jackets that reflect the creativity and professionalism of today’s female culinary talent. Breaking away from the traditional mold of shapeless classic whites, Funky Chef introduces a groundbreaking concept – power suits tailored exclusively for female chefs. Each Funky Chef jacket is meticulously crafted from eco-friendly, non-toxic cotton, reflecting a commitment to both style and sustainability. In addition to setting new standards in culinary fashion, Funky Chef also champions a cause, devoting 1% of all profits to the Endometriosis Foundation of America. 

    Source: Funky Chef

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  • The Rich Eat: The Menu

    The Rich Eat: The Menu

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    At the crux of every basic class divide is food. It is the most essential unit of life, and yet, it took little time at all after the world became “civilized” for it to become the first source of division between the haves and the have-nots. Over the centuries, especially in America, it created the ironic phenomenon of poor people being, frankly, fat (“unhealthy,” if you prefer) and rich people being thin beacons of wellness. Because rich people can afford to sidestep the overprocessed foods that the broke can actually afford. Shoveling their faces with it every day to sustain themselves. What’s more, they would never dream of paying/wasting top dollar for minuscule portions at a fine dining restaurant, the cost of which is more than they make in a month.

    With this sense of a historically-rooted class war in food, former The Onion writers-turned-screenwriters Will Tracy and Seth Reiss bring us The Menu. And no, it’s not entirely “coincidental” that the fine dining restaurant they use, called Hawthorn, as their backdrop for brutal “satire” (read: unbridled honesty) is located on a remote island. For the idea that planted the seed of the screenplay arrived when Tracy himself took a boat to a restaurant on an island off Norway (it could have been many establishments, but Cornelius comes to mind, though that’s probably too “gauche”). With that herculean effort (by restaurant-going standards), Tracy started to have some paranoid feelings about being on an island with only a handful of other diners, prompting him to wonder if this was the kind of extreme emotion worth writing about with his go-to partner, Reiss. Indeed, it was. Not to mention perfectly-timed for a market that has eating the rich on its mind. But if one was hoping for another cannibal movie (on the heels of Bones and All), don’t get your hopes up. This is not a literal “eat the rich” film, so much as a mock-their-absurd-self-importance-which-extends-into-food film. Timely, to be sure, for if it has been the year of anything in cinema, it has been the year of eating.

    Whether that meant “keeping it down” or not. For there was the now-legendary vomiting scene after the passengers consume improperly-refrigerated shellfish in Triangle of Sadness (The Menu’s less-than-“distant” filmic cousin, complete with a captain that reminds one of our chef in The Menu). Then there was the cannibalistic notion of an “eater” in the aforementioned Bones and All. And, released the same day in U.S. theaters, The Menu. Maybe it’s because, somewhere in the subconscious of the average person, an awareness is dawning about food scarcity. Another food irony (in addition to the poor and destitute often being overweight) is that if this is the year of eating in cinema, it’s also “the year of unprecedented famine,” per the World Food Programme. An organization that also noted of alarming 2022 famine statistics, “The number of those facing acute food insecurity has soared—from 135 million to 345 million—since 2019.” At such a ballooning rate (thanks to climate change, war and a pandemic), the implications of what that could do to further cement class warfare imbue one with Children of Men-esque visions for the future. Visions that no doubt present a certain moral quandary to any chef that caters to an affluent clientele. Just as “celebrity chef” Julian Slowik (Ralph Fiennes, looking his most Liam Neeson-y yet) does.

    Part of that celebrity comes from the fact that he charges thousands of dollars for the “experience” of taking a boat to the island where his restaurant is perched (Norway-style, so to speak). And blowhards like Tyler Ledford (Nicholas Hoult) are only too happy to pay the price. Unfortunately for this “foodie fanboy,” Slowik discriminates against single diners—meaning you can’t just sit at a table alone. So it is that he brings along a replacement “date” named Margot Mills (Anya Taylor-Joy) when Tyler’s original plus-one backs out. This resulting in a flinching reaction from the restaurant’s stoic maître d’, Elsa (Hong Chau), and even more of a grimace from Julian himself.

    Margot’s presence has tampered with his last menu masterpiece. The one he wants to call “egoless” for the first time since he started his career (which commenced with slinging burgers for the plebes, a detail that Margot will use to her advantage by the end). But to do so would be another form of self-delusion, almost on par with the rich telling themselves they worked hard for the money (try claiming that to the actual working class performing their day-to-day job requirement horrors). Which is why Reiss commented that such a statement was about Julian “wanting to say to himself that tonight is completely egoless, but if we take a step back, how could this monumental night that you want to be your masterpiece, how could it not be ego-filled?”

    The only egos that must ultimately be put aside by the end of the night are that of the patrons, including, in addition to Tyler and Margot, food critic Lillian Bloom (Janet McTeer), her sycophantic editor, Ted (Paul Adelstein), Hawthorn regulars Richard and Anne Liebbrandt (Reed Birney and Judith Light), George Díaz (John Leguizamo), a washed-up Hollywood star, his assistant/girlfriend, Felicity (Aimee Carrero), and tech business trio Soren (Arturo Castro), Bryce (Rob Yang) and Dave (Mark St. Cyr). With each part of the movie divided into courses, the food that gets served (or doesn’t… namely, bread—because rich people don’t deserve to enjoy what the poor have no choice but to live on daily) becomes increasingly part of something like performance art. Complete with Julian’s sous-chef, Jeremy Louden (Adam Aalderks), killing himself in front of the patrons to bring them a dish called “The Mess.” What Julian deems, more specifically, as being emblematic of the mess we all make of our lives as we try so hard and so stupidly to please people we’ll never even know (that goes for plebes in addition to famous people) and who will never actually care about all the work we put in to please.

    By this moment in the film, it’s clear Fiennes is having the time of his life in the role, and it’s difficult to imagine anyone else playing it. Unlike Taylor-Joy, whose character was originally meant to be portrayed by the aesthetically and vocally similar Emma Stone. Talking of similarities, The Menu’s kinship with Triangle of Sadness is notable throughout (complete with the idea of filming the bulk in one location; in the latter’s case, that’s on a yacht). Both are an unshrinking attack on the rich, each premise toying with what can happen when that class’ money no longer has clout. In both cases, that transpires within the context of an island, where all “real-world” power can be stripped away. And oh, how Julian is happy to strip it. After all, chefs are the biggest power-hungry control freaks of anyone.

    As for the original director attached to the film, Alexander Payne, Mark Mylod might have been destined to do it instead by sheer virtue of having previously worked with Tracy on an episode of Succession (one that fittingly centered on a dinner party) called “Tern Haven.” Tracy confirmed that reteaming with Mylod assured further seamlessness on set, noting, “…it’s just great to have someone whose tastes I trust and [whose] working process [I knew].” That sense of trust between writer and director is undeniably part of what makes The Menu come across as such a confident serve.

    And what Julian aims to serve up by the end of the night (apart from tortillas etched with some highly specific and incriminating memories of each patron) is a clean, simple dose of karmic balance. With the rich even getting off more than just a little on being abused by the climax. For it’s almost as though they’ve been surrounded by obsequious “yes” people their entire lives and they just want to experience Truth for once.

    To this end, Margot herself is the antithesis of a sycophant for Julian, undermining him at every turn with her “that don’t impress me much” expressions and commentary about the meal. It is through this “tell” that Julian can surmise she is not “one of them.” She bears the mark of someone who serves, not someone who is served; therefore, she is but a spy among the rich’s kind as opposed to being of their kind. And so, by the end of the night, per Julian’s insistence, she must take her rightful place on the side of the “givers,” not the “takers.” Or the cooks and the eaters, as it were.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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