The Palme DβOr winnerβs torrential, jaunty pace belies a bleak portrayal of sex work under a setting American sun.
palme d’or
Weβre Ruben Γstlundβs guinea pigs.Β
The genius of the Swedish director is that he doesnβt just display social commentary in βTriangle of Sadnessβ; he implicates his audience as part of a social experiment. His last two brilliant films before this, βForce Majeureβ and βThe Squareβ (a Cannes Film Festival Palme Dβor winner along with his latest), did as much.
Weβll watch a social interaction. Weβll have our opinions. Weβll take sides. Then, heβll put a similar social interaction in an entirely different context. Weβre forced to see things differently, reevaluate previous scenes and are primed to watch future scenes in a certain way. Heβs essentially forcing us to be bystanders in a European art house version of βWhat Would You Do?β.
In his breakthrough film βForce Majeure,β one scene encapsulates this all. On a family ski trip, a husband and father rushes away from his family as an avalanche approaches. The wife and mother stays put, protecting both children. As it happens, by the time the avalanche gets to them it’s an innocuous, cold mist. Everyone is safe. No big deal. But then it becomes one. The incident causes the family to view one another in a different light β theyβve seen how each one would act in a split second, life threatening event. That revelation is passed onto us, forcing us to scrutinize every subsequent social interaction.
βTriangle of Sadnessβ is told in three distinct parts, with different settings and social contexts. We have a veritable SmΓΆrgΓ₯sbord of characters: habitual selfie snapping models, a Marxist captain of a quarter-billion dollar yacht, an industrious and devious cleaning lady, a gluttonous Russian oligarch and more to pin up on the rogues gallery of social stratum. Itβs about capitalist vs. communism. The nature of man. Gender politics. And itβs about shit. That much is obvious.
The concept of βForce Majeureβ is that we look through the lens of the one incident to make sense of the rest of the film. βΓstlundβs Avalancheβ is every scene in βTriangle of Sadness.β Itβs a rollercoaster of readjusting our vision, and at a certain point, for the faint of heart and stomach, turning our gaze away at one of the best gross out sequences ever committed to the screen.
βTriangle of Sadnessβ trails a smidge behind the directorβs preceding film βThe Square.β The former is more baroque and blunt. It is also more fun. The latter performs the better balancing act between subtlety and outrageousness. As youβll see in his latestβs most memorable scene, a balancing act, quite literally, βTriangle of Sadnessβ is emphatically not. We can be suffocated, often with raucous laughter, by the nonstop avalanches in βTriangle,β buried under the weight of its heavy-handed musings on inequality in society.
Not as great as βThe Square,β but grander, βThe Triangle of Sadnessβ is another winner (and one of the best of the year) for the two-time Palme Dβor decorated director.
This Swedish film, winner of the Palme dβOr at the Cannes Film Festival and directed by Ruben Γstlund, goes to extremes to point out the gap between upper and lower classes. It attempts to satirize contemporary art, but it only succeeds in making itself the butt of the joke.