zedz wrote: ↑Tue Aug 23, 2022 9:05 pm
Triangle of Sadness (Ruben Ostlund, 2022) – Did somebody say Scandinavian cringe comedy? This is yet another Ostlund film predicated on gender and class roles, but he’s operating in a more transparently farcical arena this time. No, he’s not making any fresh or penetrating analyses of the class struggle, but that’s not what this film is about. It’s a comedy, and its job is to be funny.* If you missed that point, then I guess you slept through the climactic Captain’s Dinner set piece where a pair of blind drunk characters trade Marxist and anti-Marxist aphorisms. And how the hell did you manage to sleep through the Captain’s Dinner?
* It is sickeningly funny.
After finding
Force Majeure theoretically interesting but a bit tiring, and
The Square an enjoyable and thought-provoking exercise almost designed to disappoint in some areas, I was surprised at how consistently on board I was with Östlund’s latest overlong, uneven, blunt satire- far more than any of his other work, or any comedy this year. It's funny to glance at critical readings of this one, because some outright deny that Östlund is intending to do anything more than implement hard-hitting eviscerations on society. Yet he's also clearly retaining an underlying sympathy for our fragility, and most glaringly, our isolation in that brittle, shelled, and malleable state that leaves no room for secure identity, or to be received with dependable intimacy. There's a pulsating desire to be seen and heard, to be important, and a reactive response to hide under social niceties to keep the status quo or retreat into introverted despair. This is portrayed most obviously in the relationship dynamic of the model couple, but it also extends to Harrelson's captain, who shelters away in the fatalistic self-pity of drink, only to come alive in confessing his passionate conspiracy-ridden beliefs which are also sourced in selfish motives to be seen as smarter, as having a special knowledge over what is mystery to others, and to matter. This is transparently ridiculed as well, but there's more than a twinkle of compassion for him too.
At times the film feels like it’s dragging, where scenes go on for just seconds too long it, but I think all these perceived flaws are actually contributing to something more profound than comedy; fostering a shred of space to meditate for a brief moment on the sadness of it all, before venturing back into farcical satire. This may not read as 'economical' to some viewers, but even a scene that’s five seconds too long earns that stretching to convey a pathos for how alienated and vapid we are, when we have such authentic needs buried underneath, unsafe to expose, without the tools to communicate them against the friction of ubiquitous social barriers. Following suit, the penultimate scene amusingly gravitates with an agonizingly slow-burn towards an expected conclusion, while the final shot is more ambiguous in its intent, and fitting with the elided theme of our loneliness without an idealized stable sense of being where morality and action would align with confidence.
But yes, otherwise this is a scrumptious offering of jabs at cognitive dissonance, social awkwardness, how petty drama has evolved into a (d)evolved form of survivalism while remaining at-odds with it, etc. It's of a piece with
Speak No Evil's take on social darwinism regarding our generation, though taking the patheticism of hesitation and uncertainty, or ignorant narcissistic smugness, for laughs rather than horror. The film is touching every hot topic imaginable, and specifically exploring how we feel compelled to engage with or shy away from gendered expectations, social politics, and morality around our agency depending on proximity to actionable harm (most effectively in confronting carnivory's blind dismissal of vegetarianism with a certain animal late in the film, most obviously with a pair of sweet old arms dealers). Like
The Square, Östlund doesn't have aims to be subtle, but the gags are intelligent, versatile, layered in witty observance, all exhibited in Tati-esque setpieces, with criticisms woven into the narrative to deliver punchlines sometimes two-hours later than the joke's inception. zedz is right, the Captain's Dinner's culmination in forcing high society into low brow entertainment is reflexively inspiring, and from here on out the setpieces flow into one another relentlessly until the credits roll.
I wouldn't fault anyone for getting tired in the last act, but I was glued to the screen and could've watched another hour of this, at least. This is an incredibly ambitious film, risking a lot by playing with grammatic rules and worn ideas in fresh ways, and it's deserving of the Palme
Also, my advanced screening had these fun promotional items (spoilered for size):