Cannibal Mukbang (2023) Film Review – A Visceral Feast of Love, Vengeance, and Toxic Appetites

Posted on by Michael Williams

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Aimee Kuge’s directorial debut feature, Cannibal Mukbang, dares to ask, “How far would you go for love?” This unsettling yet darkly compelling film explores some of society’s most intimate, and often destructive, relationships: with food, with sexuality, and with one another. Through the visceral lens of performative social media and the primal taboo of cannibalism, writer and director Kuge delivers a gut-punch of a multi-genre experience, guaranteed to satiate the appetite of even the most seasoned horror gore-mands (sorry, I meant gourmands).

For many, their first intimate relationship is with food. Mothers often soothe upset infants by feeding them, creating an early correlation between comfort and consumption. This pattern can, however, evolve into unhealthy emotional responses to eating, leading to conditions like overindulgence or restriction. “Mukbang” is a popular genre of vlog where hosts consume large quantities of food while interacting with their audience. 

On YouTube, the word “muckbang” was the 85th most popular search term for May of 2025, equal to “Elon Musk” and “Taylor Swift.” Part of their unique attraction is providing a vicarious sense of satiation for people dieting or otherwise restricting their food intake. In interviews, Kuge talks candidly about turning to mukbang videos as a response to her own issues with eating. Building on this personal connection, she added cannibalism to weaponize this concept, twisting the public act of consumption into a deeply private, transgressive ritual. 

Historically, cannibalism in horror cinema often ties into addiction, as seen in films like Ravenous, where the consumption of human flesh leads to insatiable hunger. It also frequently serves to create monstrosity, evident in classics such as H.G. Lewis’s gore classic Blood Feast. While Cannibal Mukbang certainly echoes both these themes, it introduces a more complex layer: cannibalism as a path to female agency.

The concept of the “monstrous-feminine” isn’t new. Still, independent female directors like Kuge, Emerald Fennell (Promising Young Woman), Lily Amirpour (A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night), Jennifer Reeder (Perpetrator), and Karyn Kusama (Jennifer’s Body) gleefully wield it to explore female empowerment within patriarchal societies. Kuge’s protagonist, Ash (April Consuelo), joins this pantheon of defiant females. She uses her cannibalism not as a symptom of addiction or mere monstrosity, but to assert her power, subvert victim tropes, and radiate uninhibited defiance against patriarchal figures, embodying rage, desire, hunger, and sexuality often deemed “monstrous” by societal norms.

Cannibal Mukbang kicks off with a truly unconventional meet-cute: social media influencer and mukbang artist Ash knocks introverted horror movie reviewer Mark (Nate Wise) unconscious. After she takes him home and feeds him upon awakening, Mark makes a hasty exit. Yet, once free, he finds he can’t stop thinking about Ash—and disturbingly, can no longer stomach regular food. While Mark is painfully shy, his hyper-toxic, alpha male brother Maverick (Clay von Carlowitz) pushes him to reconnect with her.

Mark quickly discovers his manic pixie dream girl has a dark secret. Rising phoenix-like from a traumatic past, she is a flesh-eating vigilante targeting the men who victimize females, domestic abusers, sexual predators, and murderers. He gleefully joins her in her crusade, sharing in the harvested flesh of her prey. Yet he is unable to fully commit to her, and after they make love once, he abandons her – his own commitment issue driving a wedge between them.  After more encouragement from Maverick, he returns to Ash to find his own brother is next on her list of abusers. Will Mark return to the woman he loves or will he sacrifice her for the toxic, domineering and cruel familial bond he shares with his deranged brother? 

True to the film’s uncompromising nature, the answer is both shocking and brutal. Ash emerges as a powerful antihero, unyielding in her gastronomical crusade against evil men and utterly undeterred by love. Her need to punish and feed transcends the pastel veils and twinkling lights of her fairy-tale-like home/abattoir—a sweet, fantastical setting chillingly belied by the gleaming stainless steel autopsy table at its center.

Cannibal Mukbang is well-made but not for the faint of heart.  While exploring a multitude of themes, including grief, toxic relationships, and fear of intimacy in an online world,  and extremely graphic depictions of violence, it was the scenes of consuming raw flesh that struck the hardest with this reviewer.  As someone who probably suffers from undiagnosed misophonia, I spent a lot of time watching this movie from behind my hands as Mark and Ash munch, chomp, and slurp up their meals.  

In conclusion, Aimee Kuge’s Cannibal Mukbang is a satisfying visceral feast. From its phantasmagorical dreamscapes to chilling and gore-soaked orgies of blood and food, it is a tasty treat for the epicurious horror connoisseur. Economically condensing complex themes like grief, toxic relationships, and the impact of social media on interpersonal relationships into its lean, 76 minutes, this low-budget, gruesome thriller is a succulent, can’t miss morsel for the truly discerning palate. 

Cannibal Mukbang (2023) is available for streaming on YouTube, Google Play Movies, Amazon Prime, and Apple TV.

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