In The Menu, the movie that skewers fine dining and hits theaters this week, an unlucky dozen restaurant patrons are repeatedly and coolly informed that they will not live to see the morning. They stare down the barrels of bones filled with marrow; they struggle over knives and are chased—hunted, really—through gnarled maritime island woods. They witness death and dismemberment before them, spectacles that incorporate protective plastic wrap and smeared blood.
