Mark Reviews Movies: TRIANGLE OF SADNESS

Triangle of Sadness, NEON

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Review by Mark Dujsik | October 6, 2022

There's an admirable flexibility to Triangle of Sadness. That's not only in terms of its narrative—shifting from a pointed comedy about a specific relationship, to a broad satire about class distinctions heading toward inevitable disaster, and finally to a breakdown of society on a reduced level—but also in how writer/director Ruben Östlund incorporates so many different and seemingly disparate types of humor into this tale.

Whether or not the filmmaker arrives at some sound and/or clear-cut point by the end of this winding tale is certainly worth debating. Östlund's dedication to starting a gag and seeing it through to its logically absurd end, though, certainly shouldn't be.

Everything's fairly grounded at first, as we meet Carl (Harris Dickinson), a model among a group auditioning for some ad campaign and being documented by a film crew that's either half or fully mocking their profession. How does Carl feel, for example, to be part of an industry that doesn't pay him as much for the same work as one of his women counterparts? How simple is the job, really, if all he has to do is know in which ads he should appear grumpy (those for expensive products) and in which he should flash a big smile (for the more affordable stuff)?

The audition, by the way, must not go well. The first evidence is a fashion show, where Carl is bumped from his seat by some more prestigious guests, resulting in an unthinking wave of bodies rising in succession and moving down a seat—until Carl is left standing. He's there to watch his girlfriend Yaya (the late Charlbi Dean, whose unexpected death at the age of 32 before the film's release put an end to, from the evidence here, a promising acting career). Obviously, she makes more money than him, and that leads to some resentment, a disagreement, an argument, and a bit of a scene at a restaurant when Yaya seemingly ignores the check and lets Carl pick it up to pay the bill.

This is just one setup and one pair of characters for what's to come. Watching as this relationship seemingly collapses but receives some new life with a promise of honesty, we might not expect there is any more on the way. Östlund gives these two the time and development they deserve in order to tell something of a standalone story amidst his larger tapestry of characters and concerns, and the payoff, perhaps, is how some of the ideas about assumed gender roles in terms of social expectations begin to echo when Östlund changes things up a second time.

The first shift, though, sees Carl and Yaya on a luxury yacht for a cruise. Most of the passengers come from business and/or old money, such as Dimitry (Zlatko Buric), a Russian fertilizer magnate who proudly announces his job in to-the-point scatological terms. He's fascinated by the younger couple, who are onboard for free because of Yaya's work as a social media influencer.

Also on the ship are Winston (Oliver Ford Davies) and Clementine (Amanda Walker), who made a fortune "promoting democracy" by selling weapons. His company's biggest seller is a hand grenade (a detail that becomes a sort of grenade of a joke for later), although it used to be landmines, and the couple fondly remember the strength it took to keep things going when the UN got in the way of that avenue of profit.

This section essentially amounts to a series of vignettes, observing—and jokingly nudging at—the eccentric personalities on the ship, their odd complaints (One woman insists the non-existent sails on this motorized vessel are dirty) and suggestions/orders, and the dynamics of the distinct classes aboard the yacht. Below the passengers are the members of the serving staff, led by the unflappably polite and enthusiastic Paula (Vicki Berlin), who cater to the passengers' every whim, even when one woman's demand that the entire crew goes for a swim contradicts the very idea that they're serve them. The servers' downstairs status, though, is upstairs to the other staff, such as members of the cleaning crew, including the soon-to-be-unexpectedly-important Abigail (Dolly De Leon), who are looked down upon by anyone who even bothers to notice their existence.

All of this builds to one climax, as the ship's captain (Woody Harrelson), an avowed socialist whose drunken apathy is only assuaged when he can argue with the Russian capitalist, decides hold a dinner during a ferocious, boat-rocking storm. If the seasickness isn't enough, there's also the cooking staff's warning that going for a swim might lead to the seafood courses becoming spoiled.

Östlund establishes all of this, and if the high-minded political and class-based humor suggests some kind of stuffy comedy of manners, that's partially true. These characters do, after all, try to keep a straight face, a stiff upper lip, and some kind of dignity, even as that seasickness and food poisoning do quite a gross number on the floors and the plumbing.

Somehow, Östlund balances the reserved and ironic humor with an eruption—well, a lot of them, technically, from various orifices and furnishings—of bodily fluids, before the third act takes the story's class concerns to a more extreme but rudimentary level of what makes for a good or at least functioning society. Triangle of Sadness is a bold act of a narrative and comedic methods that are always adjusting. It's consistent, though, both in its devotion to the absurd and in the fact that, no matter how the film is operating, it's quite funny.

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