He's goth. He's bisexual. He's a disaster. He's canonically a dilf. He's worked for Count Dracula (that one) for literal decades. He's part of a codependent relationship support group. He eats bugs. He makes snicker doodles. His studio apartment looks like it came out of a 70s tie dye event. He wears pastel square sweaters. He decapitated a man by punching him. He has self-help books lining the wall of his home. He cut off a guys arms with a cheap serving platter. He brought flowers to give a witness statement. He drugged and brought many people to their deaths. He doesn't like ska. He's covered in blood for half the movie. He even did coke. I didn't say his name but he popped into your head didn't he?
The best thing about The Menu is knowing that in the screenplay, the scene where Margot discovers the truth about Tyler, she originally just fucking sat there silently and looked angry. Anya Taylor-Joy read the script, went to the director, and said, “No, sir. No woman would sit there silently and cry. I’m going to go fucking feral. Tell Nicholas Hoult to protect his fucking face.”
Also, kudos to Nicholas Hoult for being told “Anya is going to fly at you over the table and smack the shit out of you, hope that’s cool” and saying, “Go for it.”