‘Triangle of Sadness’ drowns in shallow waters
The 2022 Palme d’Or winner is not even half as enticing as its title, providing a completely insipid and juvenile satire
There’s been lots of media confronting the systems of the world recently. In no small part, I believe we can thank Parasite’s historic 2019 Best Picture win for this. Being the rare exception to break through its status as an international film, Bong Joon-ho’s film was one that was truly exceptional — not only for its stellar directing and aesthetic, but too for its thought-provoking material about the nature of class and wealth. Also from South Korea came Squid Game which practically beat you over the head with its messaging. The recent Glass Onion mocked the idea of the ‘intelligent’ 1%, and The Menu took a more light-hearted look at notions of capitalist elitism.
I bring up these other examples because they are works that match great craftsmanship with thoughtful, engaging social critique. Triangle of Sadness, on the contrary, asks a brave question — what if we made a film about hot button issues that had both poor satire and juvenile filmmaking? The answer is apparent; unlike the ocean on which much of Triangle of Sadness takes place, the film is no deeper than a puddle.
Penned and put to screen by Ruben Östlund, it’s clear the Swedish filmmaker has nothing new to say about the state of the world. That wouldn’t necessarily be a problem if not for its shockingly immature presentation, its idea of social criticism coming in the form of a group full of workers yelling “Money!” and two old white dudes reading quotes off of Google in what is allegedly a political argument.
Yet the most profound issue with Triangle of Sadness is how sheer it is in its shallowness. Rather than meaningfully engage with any of the issues the film makes us acutely aware of, Östlund seems more interested in merely pointing at it and loudly proclaiming “Isn’t that messed up?” to anyone who’s listening. Like a sadistic shark, it circles around the same points over and over again, never fully biting into them so that it can torture the audience.
The premise for Östlund’s film suggests something fun — it follows a luxury cruise for the super rich seen through the eyes of two models, Carl (Harris Dickinson) and Yaya (Charlbi Dean, who unfortunately passed away last year). The boat is divided into the wealthy and the workers, but when the ship unexpectedly sinks about halfway through Triangle of Sadness, roles are unexpectedly reversed when survivors come to rely on the cleaner Abigail (Dolly de Leon) on an island in the sea.
It would have been much easier to stomach Östlund’s antics if not for his film’s odd structure and extremely poor pacing. At two-and-a-half hours long, Triangle of Sadness takes far too long to get going, all the while seemingly trying its hardest to make sure you’re not entertained. Many of the film’s comedic bits have a foundation to stand on, but the cards soon begin to fall when Östlund seemingly doesn’t know when to let a joke go. There’s a nauseating sequence before the transition to the island where many of the passengers get seasick due to poor weather, many of them having to vomit as the toilets overflow.
I’m certainly not above some crass humour, but this whole part of the film was difficult to get through for me. Not because I felt ill watching ten rich people projectile hurl while fecal water gushed out of the toilets — no, it was because the sequence went on far longer than it needed to, suppressing any attempts at comedy with its overexposure. All of Triangle of Sadness has this cadence. There’s barely a scene in the film that wouldn’t benefit from some sort of editing down, made all the worse by Östlund’s choice to imbue every scene with uninteresting visual style. Technically speaking, everything was highly competent, but I felt no real emotion in the directing. The hand guiding us through feels cold and detached, unable to muster any real enthusiasm for the material.
Truthfully, I think this approach to directing is due to the nature of the script. As I’ve alluded to, Triangle of Sadness just kind of waves its hands at the issues it discusses without ever substantively addressing them. This could be fine — plenty of films I love tell me things about the world I’m acutely aware of. The biggest issue with Östlund’s script is its allergy to fun or depth. It’s a comedy without laughs and a satire absent of wit, masquerading as a subversive film despite its attraction to the painfully obvious.
None of it at all interested me, with the third act on the island in particular taking some real teeth-gritting for me to make it through. Triangle of Sadness’ discussion of themes in this section is particularly dull, saved only by Dolly de Leon’s lively performance as Abigail, perhaps the film’s one character worth investing in. There’s a handful of other highlights in the film that are worth mentioning, such as Woody Harrelson’s kind of delirious performance as a communist ship captain that I laughed at more than with. Although I really didn’t like Carl and Yaya, Harris Dickinson and Charlbi Dean do play them quite well, particularly when they’re bickering — I suspect my issues with their performances are highly related to the lacklustre direction.
Yet those few highlights aren’t able to save Triangle of Sadness from itself. It’s a difficult watch, not because it’s confronting or a big gross-out fest, but because of the oppressive dullness in the work. It’s possible you may get more out of it — the general critical consensus is broadly more positive than I’ve been in this review — but I can’t help but wonder why anyone would rather splash around in Östlund’s puddle when there’s a whole ocean out there.
4/10
