At a time when the financial inequality between rich and poor is widening by the day, and the world’s richest companies are filling their pockets while those in economic difficulties struggle to heat their homes and feed their children, Ruben Östlund brings us the hilarious, socially conscious satire, Triangle of sadness. A light-hearted yet politically driven exercise that sheds light on the increasing polarity between the elite mega-rich and everyone else, but even with its socio-economic focus, the film never takes itself too seriously.
With Cannes’ Palme d’Or already under his belt, a second for director Östlund after the critical success of his 2018 film The squareit is reasonable to assume expectations for Triangle of sadness have been adjusted accordingly. The Euro satire comes to life as a group of male models, including protagonist Carl (Harris Dickinson), are put to the test, sliding effortlessly between H&M’s cheery look and Balenciaga’s stern, icy exterior at the behest of the flamboyant model scout. Model Carl, and his supermodel and influencer partner, Yaya (Charlbi Dean), are at odds over their restaurant bill as Carl objects to the double standard of gender expectations.
After a hilarious candid exchange between the pair, they embark on an exclusive cruise on a European superyacht alongside the rich and powerful, from a self-proclaimed “sh*t” seller at a Russian fertilizer distributor to unlikely international arms dealers Winston and Clementine.
A lesson in differences between social classes
Triangle of sadness is a lesson in social class, wealth distribution and the contradictory, often contradictory messages of the people and companies occupying these social positions. It turns capitalism upside down, dissecting its unsavory entrails and revealing its true nature of self-interest and propensity for narcissism. The film brilliantly balances a political statement with dark satirical elements; it’s like a hidden camera prank show gone horribly wrong. Written and directed by Östlund, Triangle of sadness funny points out how the foolish rich ostentatiously see themselves, and those they deem to be below them in social status.
The film achieves this at times, in a silly, slapstick bordering way with perhaps the most memorable scene coming in the form of a massive vomiting session among the guests as they try to dine at the Captain’s dinner, only to succumb to it. the nausea of seasickness. The alcoholic, grossly incompetent captain (played superbly by Woody Harrelson) sinks his ship as he unceremoniously educates the largely capitalist residents about the wonders of Marxism through the yacht’s Tannoy speakers; Harrelson puts in a really emphatic, potentially career-defining display.
As the remaining castaways wash up on the shores of a “deserted” island, the hierarchical structure maintained during the cruise is broken and positions of social status and power are reinvented with Abigail, the cruise ship toilet cleaner (played by the scene -stealing Dolly De Leon), who goes from the bottom of the stack to the top because she has a very special set of survival skills (no Taken reference intended…). The film breaks down the social construction of class through wealth and status, and instead of material wealth, its focus is purely dependent on what society considers most important.
The film is just as grandiose, grotesque, and outrageous as the one on board. It’s the modern age Titanicwhere “paint me like one of your French girls, Jack” is replaced by “take a picture of me for my Instagram, Carl”, and where the ship capsizing is due to a group of pirates, and not accidentally bumping into a iceberg.
Explaining the mixed reviews of Triangle of Sadness
“It’s like marmite” is a nationally known saying in the UK, a phrase that collectively makes Americans squint and tilt their heads in confusion; it simply implies something or someone that divides opinions. Like the divisive delicacy, Triangle of sadness is a film that critics have either loved or hated. But what about the Palme d’Or winner who has turned out to be so contradictory?
Östlund’s story has been criticized for being too superficial, telling the public what we already know and revealing very few new ideas. Some critics have accused the film of being predictable in nature and having a pretentious, almost smug undertone.
The rather elaborate plot is vacuum packed into a relatively standard 140 minute runtime. So much happens that sometimes Triangle of sadness feels like separate movies (although, arguably, that’s the point of dividing it into three parts). It’s definitely a movie that’s overly exaggerated; it takes jokes, political points, and themes to their absolute limits, then adds a sprinkle of extra measure. Admittedly, it can sometimes feel like Triangle of sadness doesn’t know when to hold back, with jokes often going overboard (if you forgive the pun). But maybe excess is part of the point. This is, after all, a film criticizing the excesses of late capitalism.
All in all, the talented author Östlund delivers a memorable image full of personality, exuberance and a lesson in social injustice (no matter how solid and credible that education proves to be).