THERE WILL BE SPOILERS.
With Triangle of Sadness, Ruben Östlund has scored his second Palme d’Or after 2017’s The Square. Both films are satires, and whereas The Square throws its curve balls towards the high-art scene, Triangle of Sadness chooses to make fun of the 1% and class relations between them and the unluckier 99%.
The film is divided into three sections. In the first one, we are introduced to Carl, a male model played to perfection by Harris Dickinson, and Yaya, a female model and influencer played by Charlbi Dean, who tragically died earlier this year aged 32.
Both actors deliver great performances, and are a delight to watch as they bicker about who should pay the bill, gender roles within a couple, and equality.
This section is perhaps thematically closer to Östlund’s Force Majeure (2014) than to The Square, and is probably the most subtle part of a movie that displays a very in-your-face sense of humour.
In the movie’s second section, our couple enjoys a paid-for luxury cruise with other millionaires. There is a Russian oligarch who has proclaimed himself to be “the king of shit” (he sells fertilizers), a charming elderly couple who turn out to be weapon manufacturers with a stark indifference towards human life and a genuine joy for profits, and a tech millionaire, among others.
The transition between the first section and the second feels a bit abrupt, since the reason Carl and Yaya are on a cruise is explained with a single line, and the focus is shifted from a single anecdote to a whole new setting.
This second section explores the dinamics between the mega-rich, the regular folk, and the working classes amongst themselves. As the (mostly white) servers stamp their feet on the ground and scream histerically at the chance of scoring a “generous tip”, the (darker-skinned) manual labourers hear them with a shrug, all while flipping through magazines showing a beauty standard that they will never be able to afford.
The satire is not that deep and Östlund doesn’t really say anything new or groundbreaking, but does he really need to?
The exploits of the 1% are often so outrageous and blown out of all proportion that the satire practically writes itself. There is probably nothing too subtle that can be said about them, but it doesn’t really matter either – as we know that we’re going to put up with it anyway.
In this sense, even though Triangle of Sadness treads on familiar ground, that does not distract from the enjoyment of it all.
There is one particular moment when we see a chartered helicopter deliver a waterproof box in the middle of the ocean, and the content turns out to be a jar of Nutella. As funny as it comes across on screen, I suspect that this is not far from reality, which reinforces the absurdity of it all.
One subplot that I particularly enjoyed was the Russian oligarch’s wife imposing a swim on the crew, feeling guilty for her privilege but unable to grasp that she is not doing them any favours – quite the opposite, in fact. She is just using her money to own them.
The absolute center piece of this section (and of the whole movie), however, is the Captain’s Dinner scene.
The passengers get seasick one after the other in a very protracted sequence that definitely could have been shorter, and that will be remembered for years to come because of its very scatological nature. (As a matter of fact, vomit bags were distributed as promotional goodies during test screenings.)
Even though the dinner steals most of the attention, I thought that the quoting argument between the communist boat captain and the capitalist Russian oligarch was much funnier – and it did not overstay its welcome. The vomit scene, on the other hand, feels a bit overindulgent precisely because of its length, and gets slightly repetitive at times.
There is also a moment when guests are being served high-cuisine dishes and the captain gets a hamburger and fries. Then, he comments out loud that he is “not into fine dining”. There is no need either to overexplained the humour – it is pretty clear as it is.
Lastly, during the third and final act, the yatch sinks and survivors are left stranded on an island. As currency shifts from status symbols, beauty, and material wealth to practical skills, so does the social scale.
Former toilet manager Abigail (played by the wonderful Dolly de Leon) is the only one in the group who can fish and light a fire – and establishes herself as the new captain. She uses her newly-found leverage to retain the largest slice of the cake for herself, sleep comfortably in the lifeboat, and get sexual favours from Carl.
As explained in Filmanalyse’s video on the movie (in German), one can’t really speak of an indicment on capitalism here. Abigail does not use her resources to make others work for her, on the contrary, it is implied that she is privileged now because of her own labour.
As most of the film, it is very entertaining and hilarious to watch but, while Triangle of Sadness started to feel too self-indulgent in its second section, it is here that the movie becomes a bit too thinly stretched. Everything has really been said by this point, and there is not much to justify the runtime anymore.
Finally, Abigail and Yaya find out that they are not on some deserted island but on a luxury resort, and the movie ends with Abigail readying herself up to kill Yaya by smashing a rock on her head, while Yaya offers Abigail a job as her assistant.
While I liked the ending, I also think that is was an easy way out for the story, almost as if Östlund was not too sure about how he wanted to resolve things.
Overall, I really enjoyed Triangle of Sadness, even though I feel that it was too satisfied with itself at times, and that the satire was not as sharp as might have been expected. Was it worthy of the Palme d’Or? Probably not, but the film is very engaging and genuinely funny nonetheless. It definitely pays off to check it out.
All images belong to their respective owners.