“It needs an ending that ties everything together conceptually. Otherwise, it just tastes good and who cares?”
Chef Julian Slowik, the villain of the film The Menu, has spent his life driven by the desire to achieve perfection in the culinary arts. He has, by his own admission, sacrificed his body, his mind, and his entire life in the service of this goal. By all objective measures, Slowik has succeeded. He has received the highest accolades, the most awards, and the greatest reputation that is possible for a chef. His restaurant, Hawthorn, sits upon a private island, and patrons voluntarily pay $1250 for the opportunity to dine there. Outwardly, the value of his own achievements are obvious to all onlookers.
But despite Slowik’s culinary successes, he clearly feels that true perfection has eluded him. The movie culminates with Slowik’s announcement that the only way to achieve the perfect service (or, as he puts it, the perfect ‘menu’) is for everyone in the restaurant to die at the end of it. This twist makes for a compelling climax, but also an interesting opportunity to analyze Slowik’s understanding of culinary achievement and the value of perfection. Why, in other words, is the death of his patrons a central ingredient in his final recipe?
I believe that Slowik’s dissatisfaction in his own achievement is due to the impossibility of separating the aesthetic value of the dishes from those who consume them. Culinary achievements, on Slowik’s view, are not like other artistic achievements.
Imagine that a master artist, like a painter, sculptor, or musician, used all of their knowledge and expended an unprecedented amount of effort on their masterpiece. But then, no one else had the opportunity to view or otherwise experience the resulting work of art. This does not, prima facie, diminish the value of the achievement. If the piece of artwork was produced, this counts as an achievement, even if no one else knows about it. But meals are different. The consumption of them at the exact right moment is necessary for the work of culinary art to be sincerely completed. As Slowik’s host Elsa puts it, “Chef strongly feels that the beauty of his creations lie in their ephemeral nature.” Without patrons tasting the food at the right time and in the right context, the aesthetic value of the creation is greatly diminished.
In Slowik’s younger days, this element of the culinary aesthetic was easier to achieve. Patrons would consume his simpler food (like the cheeseburgers he prepared at Hamburger Howie’s), express their satisfaction, and would leave feeling full. The gustatory experience of his patrons was what completed the work of culinary art. In an important way, a truly satisfied customer is an essential element of the achievement to which Slowik dedicated his life. This is part of why it was so significant that Margot (Erin) indicated that she was still hungry and requested a cheeseburger in the last act of the film. This scene suggests that Slowik does not aspire to simply put high-end foods on a plate. The product he aspires to achieve is a perfect service, sometimes referred to in the film as a perfect menu. But what would it mean for him to achieve this goal?
According to Gwen Bradford in her book, Achievement, something only counts as an achievement if two things are true of it. Since things that are easy to accomplish are not generally considered achievements, achievements must be difficult. But difficulty is not the whole story. Because difficult tasks that are accomplished by chance or dumb luck don’t qualify as achievements, anything deemed to be a true achievement must also involve competence. In other words, all achievements require rationality (an application of theoretical knowledge), as well as effort (an exercise of the will).
Based on this analysis, it seems that Slowik has reached an extremely high level of achievement. He has dedicated his life to developing a thorough understanding of every element that goes into a dish, and he has worked tirelessly to achieve perfection in his cooking. And yet it is clear that Slowik is not satisfied by these more recent accomplishments. Despite having a nearly maximal amount of knowledge about cooking and perfect control over the culinary process, Slowik clearly does not feel that he has achieved the goal towards which he aspires.
The missing component in Slowik’s menu has been the perfect patrons. As Slowik’s expertise and efforts in the culinary arts increased, his patrons changed. Instead of serving customers that appreciated and remembered his food, his clientele shifted to include only the wealthiest patrons. And the attitudes of these customers actually undermined his goal of achieving the perfect service. These privileged patrons are, in Slowik’s view, bad customers. And much like how bad ingredients can spoil a dish, bad customers can spoil a service.
Slowik, for example, tells his patrons not to take pictures of his food. This runs against the grain of the current societal expectations regarding fine dining. In today’s world, many people refuse to enjoy a resplendent meal without first taking pictures of it and posting them to their social media feeds. At one restaurant where I recently dined, the staff actually asked if patrons were hoping for a ‘social media-ready’ experience. If you elected for this option, your courses would come to your table presented on multiple-tiered dishes resembling trees and other fantastical scenarios. But if you elected to simply eat your food, it came delivered on normal plates and bowls.
This culture of showcasing your food to others is clearly something that Slowik finds repulsive. This repulsion stems from his view of the aesthetic value of culinary masterpieces. A picture of a sculpture or painting can capture and express the beauty of that piece of work. A recording of a performance communicates the level of achievement of the composers and musicians. But a picture of a dish does not capture all of the elements of a perfect service. It replaces the true work of art with a cheap simulacrum of only one of the dimensions of the finished product. While a picture can capture beautiful plating, it cannot capture all aspects of Slowik’s service.
And this creates a problem for Slowik. The patrons and their experiences are a crucial element of every single service. The achievement of the perfect service will not be complete until he has found a way to control or account for the frustrating imperfections in his clientele. This explains why Slowik chose a particular slate of patrons for his final service.
Wealthy socialites that frequent his restaurants will eat his food and pay the substantial price tag without hesitation. But to them, it is little more than another meal. The Light family cannot remember what they ate the last time they were in the restaurant. They are not delighted by the flavors and presentations, and they are not changed by their experience of Slowik’s service. No matter how much knowledge and effort he puts into his dishes, serving them to patrons such as these will never create a perfect service.
Corporate climbers (referred to by Tyler Ledford as “Power Tasters”) and Hollywood elites are another common category of patron who enters Slowik’s restaurant. But they do not appreciate the service for what it is. One of these power tasters even goes as far as to say: “at least we can say we’ve been here, right?” Some of them use their status to directly undermine the service (by, for example, demanding items that are not part of the set menu). Others lie about their close connection to Slowik in order to enhance their own social status. These patrons do not appreciate the perfection of the service, but instead, see it as little more than a benefit and marker of their social milieu.
Food critics (like Lillian Bloom) understand more aspects of the service, but they do not acknowledge their true value. Instead, they seek only to dissect the service and identify its imperfections. By breaking down components of the theme, execution, plating, and flavors of a service, they disrupt the organic unity of the achievement towards which Slowik aspires. Their aim of anticipating the next element of the service, interpreting the goals of the chef, and closely scrutinizing every individual element renders it impossible for these patrons to be part of a perfect service.
Finally, there are the foodies who do appropriately taste and appreciate the food (exemplified by Tyler Ledford). But while they appreciate the food, they do so in a way that directly undermines the value of Slowik’s achievements. Tyler and others like him do not have anything approximating the level of knowledge that Slowik has. They also have not undertaken even a small fraction of the effort that would be necessary to master the culinary arts. These patrons like to pretend that they are Slowik’s equal or peer. And by playing into this façade, they devalue the mystery of Slowik’s technical knowledge while simultaneously asserting that his decades of dedication and effort were not essential to the creation of his meals. It seems evident that Slowik finds this category of patron the most disturbing, as their appreciation of the product comes only at the cost of them disregarding or downplaying the knowledge (competence) and effort (will) that it took to produce.
Bad patrons like these undermine Slowik’s goals as much as any other problem with the service. But over the years, Slowik slowly started exercising more and more control over the elements of a service that he could influence. His ingredients are grown, harvested, fermented, or cured directly on his island and under his immediate control. His employees are forced to work in conditions that are reminiscent of the most oppressive personality cults. He demands perfection from every single component that is under his control.
But the patrons are the last essential element of the service and, in this final service, he seeks to control them in the same way as his ingredients, setting, and staff. But patrons cannot be controlled in the ways that his cooks, mollusks, or aubergines can. The only way to render the perfect service was to force them to accept that they are part of it. By transforming his patrons into a deadly, final interpretation of the s’more, he exerts control over the one last element of the service that previously eluded him. In doing so, he achieves his vision of perfection.
This is why Slowik’s perfect service requires that everyone dies at the end of it. As this is the only way for him to control the last variable that has eluded him, and to truly achieve perfection.
Patrick Clipsham
Patrick Clipsham is a Professor of Philosophy at Winona State University in Winona, MN. His research focuses on a number of issues in moral philosophy, including medical ethics and animal ethics. Most of his recent work discusses the possibility of objectivity within ethics and moral philosophy.
