TRIANGLE OF SADNESS
****
Director: Ruben Östlund
Screenplay: Ruben Östlund
Principal cast:
Charlbi Dean
Harris Dickinson
Woody Harrelson
Zlatko Burić
Dolly De Leon
Vicki Berlin
Country: Sweden/France/UK/Germany/Turkey/Greece/USADenmark/Switzerland/Mexico
Classification: M
Runtime: 147 mins.
Australian release date: 26 December 2022.
Ruben Östlund’s Triangle of Sadness opens with a Brüno Gehard-like (Sacha Baron Cohen’s Austrian fashionista) camp interviewer talking to a bunch of young, hot male models as they wait to audition for a catwalk show. It mercilessly skewers the fashion industry and is absolutely hilarious. It satirises the different ‘look’ required when modelling for either Balenciaga or H&M and it’s a scene that will stay with you. It also establishes the tone of Östlund’s movie, which derisively sends up the peccadilloes of the establishment and the rarefied world inhabited by the entitled people we’re about to meet. These are beings the Swedish director, who writes his own screenplays, has lampooned in his previous films, particularly in The Square but also in Force Majeure, but he always brings a fresh, acerbic eye to their foibles. And, with this one, a lot more caustic humour.
After the prologue, the writer/director divides Triangle of Sadness into three chapters: Carl and Yaya, The Yacht and The Island. In the first, we’re privy to a lengthy argument between Carl (a fabulous performance by Harris Dickinson, who some will recognise from the recent Where the Crawdads Sing) and Yaya (South African actress Charlbi Dean, who sadly died in August this year), catwalk models who are boyfriend and girlfriend, about who pays for dinner. In The Yacht, the same couple are on a luxury cruise that only the super-rich can afford. They’re aboard a $250,000,000 vessel by dint of their Instagram-influencing abilities, so they’re constantly photographing their meals and each other. Among the assorted millionaire guests are an arms-manufacturing elderly couple, Winston and Clementine (Oliver Ford Davies and Amanda Walker); Dimitry (Zlatko Burić), a Russian capitalist who says he made his money from selling “shit,” and his imperious wife, Vera (Sunnyi Melles); and a woman who can only utter one sentence after suffering a stroke. They are looked after by an abundance of workers under the control of Chief of Staff Paula (Vicki Berlin), who instructs her team that she never wants to hear them say no to a client, it must always be “Yes sir, yes ma’am,” whatever the request. The superyacht itself is in the command of the perpetually drunk captain, Thomas (a very funny Woody Harrelson), a committed Marxist. In chapter three, a series of shocking events have caused a small group of survivors to wash up on a seemingly deserted island. They’re a mixture of privileged guests and below-deck staff and it’s here that the established relationships are overturned – the rich are incapable of fending for themselves so the more resilient staff have the upper hand, especially the Filipina ‘Toilet Manageress,’ Abigail (a note-perfect Dolly De Leon). She’s the only one who knows how to catch a fish!
Winner of the Palme d'Or at the 2022 Cannes Film Festival, Triangle of Sadness can be regarded as the third part of a trilogy of films, along with Force Majeure and The Square. Östlund states that, “All the men in these films are trying to deal with who they are supposed to be and what is expected of them. They are then put in a trap in order to see how they behave.” Certainly, Carl is placed in a couple of very sticky situations that arise purely because of his good looks. The script deliberately investigates how beauty can be, and is, used as a commodity by many people: “The fact that looks play such a key role in society is something of a universal inequality,” says the director, “but on the other hand you can be born beautiful wherever you come from and that beauty can be used to climb the socioeconomic ladder in a class-based society.”
Some scenes in Triangle of Sadness can be hard to stomach (pun intended), particularly one involving a seven-course dinner served during a wild storm, but they are always entertaining. Seeing the arms manufacturers get their just desserts is another blackly humorous scene. The final act is open to the viewer’s interpretation, although I think you can safely draw one conclusion – once people have experienced privilege, it’s very unlikely they’ll happily return to their previous existence.
Screenplay: Ruben Östlund
Principal cast:
Charlbi Dean
Harris Dickinson
Woody Harrelson
Zlatko Burić
Dolly De Leon
Vicki Berlin
Country: Sweden/France/UK/Germany/Turkey/Greece/USADenmark/Switzerland/Mexico
Classification: M
Runtime: 147 mins.
Australian release date: 26 December 2022.
Ruben Östlund’s Triangle of Sadness opens with a Brüno Gehard-like (Sacha Baron Cohen’s Austrian fashionista) camp interviewer talking to a bunch of young, hot male models as they wait to audition for a catwalk show. It mercilessly skewers the fashion industry and is absolutely hilarious. It satirises the different ‘look’ required when modelling for either Balenciaga or H&M and it’s a scene that will stay with you. It also establishes the tone of Östlund’s movie, which derisively sends up the peccadilloes of the establishment and the rarefied world inhabited by the entitled people we’re about to meet. These are beings the Swedish director, who writes his own screenplays, has lampooned in his previous films, particularly in The Square but also in Force Majeure, but he always brings a fresh, acerbic eye to their foibles. And, with this one, a lot more caustic humour.
After the prologue, the writer/director divides Triangle of Sadness into three chapters: Carl and Yaya, The Yacht and The Island. In the first, we’re privy to a lengthy argument between Carl (a fabulous performance by Harris Dickinson, who some will recognise from the recent Where the Crawdads Sing) and Yaya (South African actress Charlbi Dean, who sadly died in August this year), catwalk models who are boyfriend and girlfriend, about who pays for dinner. In The Yacht, the same couple are on a luxury cruise that only the super-rich can afford. They’re aboard a $250,000,000 vessel by dint of their Instagram-influencing abilities, so they’re constantly photographing their meals and each other. Among the assorted millionaire guests are an arms-manufacturing elderly couple, Winston and Clementine (Oliver Ford Davies and Amanda Walker); Dimitry (Zlatko Burić), a Russian capitalist who says he made his money from selling “shit,” and his imperious wife, Vera (Sunnyi Melles); and a woman who can only utter one sentence after suffering a stroke. They are looked after by an abundance of workers under the control of Chief of Staff Paula (Vicki Berlin), who instructs her team that she never wants to hear them say no to a client, it must always be “Yes sir, yes ma’am,” whatever the request. The superyacht itself is in the command of the perpetually drunk captain, Thomas (a very funny Woody Harrelson), a committed Marxist. In chapter three, a series of shocking events have caused a small group of survivors to wash up on a seemingly deserted island. They’re a mixture of privileged guests and below-deck staff and it’s here that the established relationships are overturned – the rich are incapable of fending for themselves so the more resilient staff have the upper hand, especially the Filipina ‘Toilet Manageress,’ Abigail (a note-perfect Dolly De Leon). She’s the only one who knows how to catch a fish!
Winner of the Palme d'Or at the 2022 Cannes Film Festival, Triangle of Sadness can be regarded as the third part of a trilogy of films, along with Force Majeure and The Square. Östlund states that, “All the men in these films are trying to deal with who they are supposed to be and what is expected of them. They are then put in a trap in order to see how they behave.” Certainly, Carl is placed in a couple of very sticky situations that arise purely because of his good looks. The script deliberately investigates how beauty can be, and is, used as a commodity by many people: “The fact that looks play such a key role in society is something of a universal inequality,” says the director, “but on the other hand you can be born beautiful wherever you come from and that beauty can be used to climb the socioeconomic ladder in a class-based society.”
Some scenes in Triangle of Sadness can be hard to stomach (pun intended), particularly one involving a seven-course dinner served during a wild storm, but they are always entertaining. Seeing the arms manufacturers get their just desserts is another blackly humorous scene. The final act is open to the viewer’s interpretation, although I think you can safely draw one conclusion – once people have experienced privilege, it’s very unlikely they’ll happily return to their previous existence.