Triangle Of Sadness (2022)
SHOULD I SEE IT?
YES
Fans of caustic, bitter satire may find plenty to like in Ruben Östlund’s skewering of the privileged and elite.
Told in three parts, each distinctively different in tone and feel from each other, there’s a little something for everyone in Triangle of Sadness.
Dolly de Leon steals the show in the film’s final portion.
NO
There’s no easy way to say this, but Triangle of Sadness is absolutely not for the weak of stomach or faint of heart. The middle section of this film will test you in ways you simply are unable to anticipate.
Moves from clever satire to an overlong, smug, self-gratifying film that not only belabors its points and messaging, but infuses ambiguity in places which make everything convoluted and rudderless.
Despite all the machinations, clever dialogue, diversions and realizations, the ultimate statement is very simplistic and lacks the depth necessary to sustain everything Östlund throws up and out on screen.
OUR REVIEW
Disdain, disappointment and disgust are the emotions which drive the satirical narrative of Triangle of Sadness, the latest film from writer/director, and smirking provocateur, Ruben Östlund. This year’s surprise winner of the Palme d’Or at the 2022 Cannes Film Festival, the film is his first English-language feature, taking us through three distinctive chapters of uncomfortable and unnerving situations while theorizing how people of privilege react to untenable circumstances.
Each chapter of the film pitches the feeling of survival in a wholly distinctive setting and situation. The connective tissue through all of Östlund’s free-wheeling, stream-of-consciousness screenplay is supermodel influencer couple, Carl (Harris Dickinson) and Yaya (Charlbi Dean, who sadly passed away at the age of 32, prior to the film’s release).
Once we see how Carl navigates his way through an audition and portfolio review with a couple dozen other models striving for the same opportunities, he settles into dinner with Yaya at a nice restaurant. When the check comes, Yaya feigns interest in the check, leaving Carl to pick up the bill. Again. After Yaya promised she’d pay “the next time.” This leads to a densely layered discussion that unearths plenty about relationships, gender roles, expectations, and assumptions.
Later, Yaya is invited to board a cruise for those described as, “the super-rich.” Asked to promo the cruise on social media, Yaya, with Carl in tow, each take a backseat to the story on screen as Östlund observes the individuals heading out to sea. We spend time seeing how the crew swallow down their frustrations and smile constantly, perpetually, trying to make sure everyone’s stay is wonderful and their needs are met. An “upstairs/downstairs” scenario unfolds, as crew in the bowels of the ship work tirelessly to make the crew above them look great and the experience for the guests run smoothly. Eventually, one bad decision made by one crew in particular results in the ship’s guests undergoing severe distress.
In the final act, we return to land, as a handful of characters find themselves stranded on a remote island. As people try to make sense of how they have arrived at this moment in their lives, and Carl and Yaya continue to unpack a fraying relationship, one individual - a toilet manager from the below-the-ship crew, Abigail (Dolly de Leon, who steals the show) - rises to a position of authority and instantly becomes smitten with the opportunities a position of power can provide.
Disdain is everywhere. Östlund has nothing kind to say about his characters, framing them as mostly vapid and empty, narcissistic and out-of-touch. You feel it in the interactions between Carl and Yaya. You see it in the way the cruise ship staff deal with their passengers. And you see the utter contempt that overlays every discussion, action, and engagement on the island.
Disappointment is rampant - in people’s decisions, in themselves, in others. And disgust, both in a literal and metaphorical sense, is largely the tone the film adopts once Carl and Yaya move from their private conversations to the cruise ship. When the cruise ship ends in a splattering of embarrassing moments and interactions, Östlund is exhibiting glee in showing the wealthiest human beings filthy, sick, and vulnerable.
As social satire, your mileage may vary. I, for one, appreciate that in Östlund’s recent work, 2014’s Force Majeure and 2017’s Oscar-nominated The Square, he is able to wring out every ounce from a basic premise. Here, for a film clocking in at just under 150 minutes, Triangle of Sadness bangs out a similar beat time and time again. People are insufferable, they are selfish, increasingly self-absorbed. Concepts, themes and ideas are mined again and again, powdered down to their last iota of meaning.
Had Östlund explored the why behind his observations: theorizing reasons that, as a culture, no one can let anything go anymore; or why people fight to the death to be right about everything but ignore suffering of others when it doesn’t directly impact them. Had he dug deeper into the reasons we collectively live for a fleeting moment and never aspire for anything more durational, perhaps his gutter-cleaning of human behavior and society would appear as palatable as the multi-course meal prepared for the passengers on the ship.
Instead, we just are left to try and admire the absurdity. An elderly couple, who made their millions creating war grenades, wonder if a random grenade they find on board the ship is one of theirs. A woman demands that the crew chief (Paula Berlin) clean non-existent sails on the boat. And in an extended cameo, the haggard drunkard ship captain (Woody Harrelson) debates Marxism and Capitalism with a Russian oligarch (Zlatko Buric) as literal chaos is exploding around them.
While Östlund creates mania on screen (he also serves as editor of the piece), his film looks terrific. His frequent cinematographer Frederik Wenzil works, at times, in contrast to the frenzied pace, allowing us to see the potential calm in situations quickly escalating away from solitude. The boat is pristine. The cold, callous audition room Carl enters into is colorless and vacant. Östlund teases our focus throughout the film. A particular delight is a random dog in the background of Carl’s audition.
Triangle of Sadness asks a lot of the viewer, notwithstanding the middle sequence which devolves into a fountain of visuals that will potentially turn even the most hearty of stomachs. As we navigate the components of Östlund’s triptych on human nature and how cruel we can be to one another, it becomes difficult to suss out any deeper meaning than “People suck. In all the ways.”
We do. We also need to understand why. And if within 149 minutes, all you can do is point at people and laugh at their emptiness and shallow behavior, then your thesis sadly embodies a similar vacancy.
CAST & CREW
Starring: Harris Dickinson, Charlbi Dean, Woody Harrelson, Zlatko Buric, Dolly De Leon, Woody Harrelson, Iris Berben, Vicki Berlin, Henrik Dorsin, Jean-Christophe Folly, Amanda Walker, Sunnyi Melles, Alicia Eriksson, Carolina Gynning, Mia Benson, Oliver Ford Davies
Director: Ruben Östlund
Written by: Ruben Östlund
Release Date: October 7, 2022
NEON