Triangle of Sadness (or Sans Filtre) is most likely the best film Ruben Östlund has ever made. I say "most likely" because I'm actually a bit behind on this director, having only seen The Square when I was analyzing its screenplay for my degree project in 2019, ergo I couldn't take in its twisted satire or defiant imagery the way I would've liked.
Now, the Swedish legend takes his signature vibe -- pungent uneasiness that soon transitions into abject chaos -- out to sea. And let me tell you, if Titanic had involved a thundering storm instead of an iceberg and if instead of two young lovers trading sweet clichés we got copious cavalcades of sh-t and vomit, I'd get the hype a lot more.
A multinational production, the cast is rich and hails from all over the world. We first join two models, Carl (Harris Dickinson) and his more successful influencer girlfriend Yaya (the late Charlbi Dean), working in the modern fashion industry -- which is realistically depicted but subtly-yet-bitingly satirical like only Östlund knows how (here taking a few jabs at performative equality; companies boasting the DEI of their models who are all shaped about the same).
As they're invited to a luxury superyacht cruise along what seems to be the East African coast, we meet a multitude of other characters, including Woody Harrelson as the drunken ship's captain, Vicki Bergen as the head of staff, Dolly De Leon as a Filipino cleaning lady who becomes important later, and Zlatko Buric as a Russian oligarch. Between this and 2012, I conclude that "boisterous Russian billionaire" was simply the role Buric was born to play.
For me (and my fellow Swedish viewers, no doubt), it was especially fun to see revue legend Henrik Dorsin as a lonesome Swedish millionaire. He just has a perfect face and demeanor for comedy -- even the very first shot of him as a dejected, pudgy middle-aged man sitting by himself made me and my theater company laugh.
The main attraction in Triangle of Sadness is of course the Captain's Dinner scene, and even if you don't know what's about to happen, you'll suspect it from the start. The film builds it up perfectly; from the subtle tilt of the actors and props, showing the constant (and slowly increasing) instability of the yacht as the seas grow rougher, to the more and more noticeable ways in which the expressions and body language show onsetting nausea, everything flawlessly rises to when Hell at Sea is finally unleashed and all the pratfalls, emeses, and even diarrhea are so convincing I almost believed Östlund must have force-fed his crew ipecac and laxatives.
Of course, on top of being a grade-A example of escalatingly chaotic cringe comedy, its setting and characters allow plentiful commentary about billionaires, the industries that get them rich, and the very system that allows some human beings to have that much more than others in the first place. Even during the big "barfing section", these ideas appear -- more explicitly than ever, in fact. (The captain and the oligarch, being the only two who don't get seasick, stay behind in the dining hall to get piss-drunk and trade anti-capitalist vs. Anti-communist arguments, quotes, and platitudes, which they then start belting out over the intercom as they become friends and lock themselves inside the captain's office -- whilst the still panic-stricken passengers and crew are forced to listen as they soak in vomit and overflowing septic water.)
By circumstances I won't reveal (though I will say that they involve one of the most beautifully poetic and f-cked-up instances of "Hoist by His Own Petard" I have ever seen), a few of the characters wind up on a deserted island where all notions of social/class hierarchy have ceased to apply. This section of the film will be even more satisfying to some viewers (particularly those of a socialist persuasion), as the rich are robbed of their abundance and must subsist on base needs like everyone else.
But there is yet another layer: stripped of all their belongings, convinced that everyone is now equal and can distribute their resources in terms of need, the tiny society they form soon evolves to a point whereby it starts to resemble a prototype of the very system it sought to destroy. What this implies, I leave for you to decide.
The final shot of the film also invites much speculation. Where is our hero running? We can tell -- through basic cinematic language, as my companion pointed out -- that he must be pursuing the characters we saw leave earlier (he's running from the left side of the screen to the right, just as we see the others do throughout their hike) but what has happened? Does he know what the others discovered? Did that one character do what she appeared to be doing to the other character once they reached their goal, and if so, is our hero running because he fears the worst or because he was in on the plot? Or can it be so simple that he has been alerted of the salvation that awaits?
Triangle of Sadness is outstanding. My only complaints are minor, including a few character moments that don't make sense -- and can't really be explained away by in-text stupidity -- as well as exactly one CGI donkey that doesn't look great. Still, this is the best time I've had in a movie theater in a long time, as is so often the case when the attendees are offered puke bags and at least one viewer is forced to leave the auditorium for some air.
At the screening I attended (and likely all other screenings in my country), the film was preceded by a short snippet of Östlund showing off the Palme D'Or he received at Cannes in May, where he also garnered a standing ovation of eight minutes. Normally, I'd find that sort of thing a tad pretentious, but Östlund seems like a genuine man and, Hell, when it's a filmmaker from my country, I can't help but develop a sports-team mentality of sorts. Suck on that, Denmark. (I kid, I thought the Riget: Exodus was also really good.)
Now, the Swedish legend takes his signature vibe -- pungent uneasiness that soon transitions into abject chaos -- out to sea. And let me tell you, if Titanic had involved a thundering storm instead of an iceberg and if instead of two young lovers trading sweet clichés we got copious cavalcades of sh-t and vomit, I'd get the hype a lot more.
A multinational production, the cast is rich and hails from all over the world. We first join two models, Carl (Harris Dickinson) and his more successful influencer girlfriend Yaya (the late Charlbi Dean), working in the modern fashion industry -- which is realistically depicted but subtly-yet-bitingly satirical like only Östlund knows how (here taking a few jabs at performative equality; companies boasting the DEI of their models who are all shaped about the same).
As they're invited to a luxury superyacht cruise along what seems to be the East African coast, we meet a multitude of other characters, including Woody Harrelson as the drunken ship's captain, Vicki Bergen as the head of staff, Dolly De Leon as a Filipino cleaning lady who becomes important later, and Zlatko Buric as a Russian oligarch. Between this and 2012, I conclude that "boisterous Russian billionaire" was simply the role Buric was born to play.
For me (and my fellow Swedish viewers, no doubt), it was especially fun to see revue legend Henrik Dorsin as a lonesome Swedish millionaire. He just has a perfect face and demeanor for comedy -- even the very first shot of him as a dejected, pudgy middle-aged man sitting by himself made me and my theater company laugh.
The main attraction in Triangle of Sadness is of course the Captain's Dinner scene, and even if you don't know what's about to happen, you'll suspect it from the start. The film builds it up perfectly; from the subtle tilt of the actors and props, showing the constant (and slowly increasing) instability of the yacht as the seas grow rougher, to the more and more noticeable ways in which the expressions and body language show onsetting nausea, everything flawlessly rises to when Hell at Sea is finally unleashed and all the pratfalls, emeses, and even diarrhea are so convincing I almost believed Östlund must have force-fed his crew ipecac and laxatives.
Of course, on top of being a grade-A example of escalatingly chaotic cringe comedy, its setting and characters allow plentiful commentary about billionaires, the industries that get them rich, and the very system that allows some human beings to have that much more than others in the first place. Even during the big "barfing section", these ideas appear -- more explicitly than ever, in fact. (The captain and the oligarch, being the only two who don't get seasick, stay behind in the dining hall to get piss-drunk and trade anti-capitalist vs. Anti-communist arguments, quotes, and platitudes, which they then start belting out over the intercom as they become friends and lock themselves inside the captain's office -- whilst the still panic-stricken passengers and crew are forced to listen as they soak in vomit and overflowing septic water.)
By circumstances I won't reveal (though I will say that they involve one of the most beautifully poetic and f-cked-up instances of "Hoist by His Own Petard" I have ever seen), a few of the characters wind up on a deserted island where all notions of social/class hierarchy have ceased to apply. This section of the film will be even more satisfying to some viewers (particularly those of a socialist persuasion), as the rich are robbed of their abundance and must subsist on base needs like everyone else.
But there is yet another layer: stripped of all their belongings, convinced that everyone is now equal and can distribute their resources in terms of need, the tiny society they form soon evolves to a point whereby it starts to resemble a prototype of the very system it sought to destroy. What this implies, I leave for you to decide.
The final shot of the film also invites much speculation. Where is our hero running? We can tell -- through basic cinematic language, as my companion pointed out -- that he must be pursuing the characters we saw leave earlier (he's running from the left side of the screen to the right, just as we see the others do throughout their hike) but what has happened? Does he know what the others discovered? Did that one character do what she appeared to be doing to the other character once they reached their goal, and if so, is our hero running because he fears the worst or because he was in on the plot? Or can it be so simple that he has been alerted of the salvation that awaits?
Triangle of Sadness is outstanding. My only complaints are minor, including a few character moments that don't make sense -- and can't really be explained away by in-text stupidity -- as well as exactly one CGI donkey that doesn't look great. Still, this is the best time I've had in a movie theater in a long time, as is so often the case when the attendees are offered puke bags and at least one viewer is forced to leave the auditorium for some air.
At the screening I attended (and likely all other screenings in my country), the film was preceded by a short snippet of Östlund showing off the Palme D'Or he received at Cannes in May, where he also garnered a standing ovation of eight minutes. Normally, I'd find that sort of thing a tad pretentious, but Östlund seems like a genuine man and, Hell, when it's a filmmaker from my country, I can't help but develop a sports-team mentality of sorts. Suck on that, Denmark. (I kid, I thought the Riget: Exodus was also really good.)