---------- This review may contain spoilers!
In this article, I will delve into Triangle of Sadness, a film by Ruben Östlund, a Swedish director I greatly admire. Following his well-known works The Square (which also won the Palme d’Or in 2017) and Force Majeure, this film further established Östlund's reputation by claiming the Palme d’Or in 2022. At the 95th Academy Awards, the film had three nominations and has also been recognized with nominations and awards at various other European and International festivals, thus extending the director's acclaim beyond the continent. Triangle of Sadness is a vigorous dark comedy and an unapologetic satire that challenges boundaries. Featuring an ensemble cast led by Harris Dickinson, Charlbi Dean (in her final film role as she passed away after the movie), Dolly de Leon, Zlatko Burić, Iris Berben, Vicki Berlin, and Woody Harrelson, the film is segmented into three parts, making it relatively easier to watch and to analyze. In it, Östlund targets not only the apparently wealthy but also scrutinizes the entirety of society and its underlying systems. Due to its layered, profound, and finely crafted narrative, I will continue my review by discussing and summarizing the film in segments similar to the director.
In the first part of Triangle of Sadness, the film focuses on the backgrounds and relationship dynamics of the leading couple, Carl and Yaya. The movie begins with a peculiar fashion shoot involving Carl and other male models. This scene metaphorically contrasts the general public, depicted in the joyful but non-unique style of H&M, against the affluent, who are portrayed as serious, cool, and enviable, akin to Balenciaga. This gives the film an underlying, quick-paced start. We then learn more about Yaya, who is more famous than Carl and engaged in more glamorous works. Unlike her boyfriend, Yaya's popularity on Instagram is not only higher but also on the rise.
Following these introductory scenes, we observe the couple at dinner, which leads to a prolonged and impactful debate over who should pay the bill. This scenario paints Yaya as aiming to be a trophy wife, presenting their relationship as one beneficial for her popularity and her Instagram page, where Carl is essentially her photographer and accessory (!). The dialogue and approach suggest that if Carl cannot reach a certain level of prosperity, the benefits Yaya gains from the relationship may not be enough for her to continue it. Carl, feeling dominated and tired of the clichés in male-female relationships, expresses his exhaustion with always being the one to pay, though he still hopes that Yaya will eventually fall in love with him. Here, the film doesn't show much romance in their relationship; rather, it appears more like an intimate business partnership. This dynamic effectively lays bare a modern type of relationship, where Yaya expects Carl to pay for expensive meals under the guise of equality, satirizing gender roles in a manner that entertains the audience. Additionally, the film critiques the era of social media in first two parts, subtly touching on topics like influencers who post about eating pasta despite claiming to have gluten intolerance, as exemplified by Yaya's character.
The second part of the film unfolds aboard a superyacht, where Carl and Yaya are invited to a luxury cruise in exchange for Yaya's promotion on social media. As expected, this arrangement exacerbates the tension between Carl and Yaya. Carl, benefiting from all the services for free thanks to his girlfriend and only having to do "less than part-time Instagram photography" in return, but still, finds himself in a powerless position as Yaya holds the reins of power. Related to that, a situation arises where a male crew member, who sunbathes shirtless beside them, is inadvertently dismissed due to Carl's complaint to his superior because he started feeling jealous as Yaya even innocently finds him attractive.
However, unlike the first part, this part of the film actually digs into the topics further away from the relationship. Additionally, a bulk of dominant and caricatured side characters, many of whom are wealthy and powerful, joins the picture. Their dialogues and actions are exaggerated yet believably absurd, showcasing meticulous character design and satirical observational skill. Some of the characters introduced in this part include: the wealthy self-proclaimed "shit-seller” capitalist oligarch Dimitry, along with his wife Vera and mistress Ludmilla; the rich elderly couple Clementine and Winston, who have amassed wealth through products they claim bring democracy to third-world countries (grenades, mines, etc.); the lonely tech billionaire Jarmo; the paralyzed Therese who can only utter a single phrase and is confined to a wheelchair; and the socialist captain Thomas Smith who neglects his duties and prefers to stay drunk in his cabin. This part of the film not only expands the narrative beyond the central relationship but also serves as a canvas for Östlund's sharp social commentary, portraying a satirical reflection of the absurdities and inequalities within contemporary society.
The third part begins on a deserted island where the survivors of the yacht sinking have arrived with a lifeboat and limited supplies. The critical twist here is the complete reversal of hierarchies and class distinctions. Abigail, a middle-aged cleaner who likely immigrated and was at the bottom of the hierarchy on the yacht, becomes the leader on the island and turns the hierarchy upside down. She possesses essential survival skills, such as making fire and fishing, which she uses to gain and enforce power, even reducing Carl to a sort of sex toy in exchange for food. Abigail reaches a point where she, who was once overlooked as a cleaner on the yacht, now commands from the lifeboat, her new "base of operations," and even expels others including Carl's girlfriend Yaya. Survival instincts also drive Jarno to brutally kill a wild donkey by smashing it with a rock, an act that is met with great cheer by many in the group. This segment brilliantly illustrates how power and hierarchy are contingent on time, circumstance, and the skills that are valued in those circumstances. It also explores the human nature of those in power, showcasing how they are prone to maximize and possibly corrupt their control, portrayed in a less caricatured and more serious, even darker tone compared to the second part. Additionally, Yaya, who previously held power over Carl in the earlier parts of the film, becomes jealous as she watches her boyfriend come under Abigail's protection, struggle to adapt, and grow increasingly attentive towards Abigail. This twist adds a layer of personal conflict and emotional complexity to the narrative, highlighting the dynamic shifts in relationships and power structures in extreme situations.
One day, while Abigail and Yaya are exploring the island, they make a surprising discovery that the island isn't deserted at all; in fact, it even houses a holiday resort. This revelation implies a return to normal life, signaling the end of Abigail's reign as the leader. Realizing they are saved, Yaya relaxes on the beach and offers Abigail a position as her assistant back in civilization, promising her a better life. However, simultaneously, Abigail considers killing Yaya by hitting her with a rock, echoing the earlier violent act against the donkey. At this moment, Carl, who has been following them, is seen running towards them frantically as the film draws to a close. The ending is left ambiguous: either Yaya convinces Abigail and Carl rushes to inform others that the island is not isolated, or Abigail has already killed Yaya, as hinted by the donkey metaphor earlier in the film, and Carl is running to let the murder known by the others. Both scenarios are seamlessly integrated into the film’s narrative, ensuring the ending doesn’t feel out of place or forced. This unresolved conclusion adds a layer of suspense and invites viewers to ponder the true nature of human behavior under dire circumstances.
This film stands out as a vibrant and humorous exploration of money and social class, effectively using the most engaging and comedic medium to present this critique of contemporary society. The director’s ability to create scenes rich with social commentary from even the simplest conversations is remarkable, making the film thought-provoking while still entertaining. From the first to the last second, the film maintains this dynamic without sacrificing technical quality. Every detail in the movie is meticulously crafted, emphasizing that nothing occurs without a purpose. Even in its absurdity, there's always a message or a nod to specific targets. The principle of equality is also prominently featured. Although the film primarily critiques the upper social classes, it equally addresses the struggles of lower social classes and those in vulnerable positions, like Abigail and Carl, spreading its message across the societal spectrum. This approach not only adds realism to the film but also shows a commendable dedication to reflecting genuine societal dynamics.
Comparing this work of the director to their previous well-known films, such as The Square and Force Majeure, some viewers find it challenging to place it within a quality spectrum, thus, even if you have seen the other films (like I have), assessing this one independently could offer a clearer view of its value. However, if comparisons are to be drawn, the satire in this movie is far more accessible and digestible to a broader audience than in the earlier mentioned films. While this accessibility could be perceived as simplicity, it is a deliberate choice by the director, which I find commendable and aligned with the film’s objectives.
Mert Konuk
January 2025
---------- This review may contain spoilers!
Directed by Justine Triet, one of the rising stars in post-2010s French and European cinema, who co-wrote the screenplay with Arthur Harari, Anatomy of a Fall (Anatomie d'une chute) tackles the mystery of whether a case is one of suicide or murder. Along with that incident and aftermath, the movie focuses on the relationship dynamics between the deceased Samuel, his wife Sandra (a German writer and the primary suspect), and their 11-year-old visually impaired child, Daniel. Additionally, it subtly addresses numerous sub-themes that lend themselves to social criticism.
The movie, it can be said, starts off in a traditional manner and also somewhat slowly. Although the incident and the start of the investigation—the heart of the plot—occur early on and the story builds on this, deepening through ambiguity until the end, the movie risks losing the audience's focus with its unadorned and calm approach. However, the subsequent deepening process, particularly through the investigation and court scenes in order to understand prime suspect Sandra's past, alibi, character and relationships in general, is remarkable. Here, lies the part that internalizes social issues: xenophobia, sexism, prejudice, injustice, etc. There, these themes are presented to us, and the motivations of the characters, as well as the history of their relationships, are laid out for examination from this point onwards.
The peak, and what I assume warranted its Palme d'Or, is the part right before the final resolution, the real climax which also sets the stage for the ultimate unraveling. This is where the uncensored backstory of the married protagonists' relationship is revealed as the movie shows us that the fall referred in the title is not the incident that is investigated but actually the state of the marriage. Until here, Sandra already falls into a really difficult situation especially after what the late Samuel told his psychiatrist about her, and the disclosure of the audio-recorded fight with Sandra in court both complicates the situation and opens a way in which Daniel has to be the decision influencer. Topics such as guilt stemming from their child's blindness, infidelity due to sexual distance, and the impact of disparities in the couple's successes on their relationship are explored in a thought-provoking manner. Thus, this part declares to us that while the main mystery may still indeed need to be solved, it is actually not the focal point.
Another critical point is the parent-child relationship that directly influences the story more through causality than depth, with the healthiness of that not reflected on screen but inferred, and the child character whose relationships we actually anticipate solely based on events within the story. Representing logic and instinct in the story, Daniel plays a decisive role (with contributions from his dog and the spectator assigned to accompany him during the trial) in how the story concludes, particularly highlighting the reality that a child's need for his parents during the development stage can transcend the right and wrong.
I genuinely believe the story could not have had a more flawless conclusion. It's neither clear nor unclear, meaning it's refined and skillful enough to leave the audience neither feeling abandoned nor too neatly and subjectively satisfied with the outcome they might have wished for. Despite some minor flaws, the movie is generally very successful, fitting well within modern cinema and deserves many of its awards and nominations. The performances, especially, are memorable, with Sandra Hüller delivering a performance that is worth discussing throughout, notably in the bilingual (English and French) court scenes. However, at times, the scenario seems a bit too formulaic, as if tailored for award success, which could be a point of criticism regarding the sincerity of the storytelling and screenplay. In summary, while not revolutionary enough to shake the foundations of the viewer's mindset or the historical evolution of its genre, it is a thought-provoking work and also quite a gripping one.
Mert Konuk
January 2025
---------- This review may contain spoilers!
Directed by Justine Triet, one of the rising stars in post-2010s French and European cinema, who co-wrote the screenplay with Arthur Harari, Anatomy of a Fall (Anatomie d'une chute) tackles the mystery of whether a case is one of suicide or murder. Along with that incident and aftermath, the movie focuses on the relationship dynamics between the deceased Samuel, his wife Sandra (a German writer and the primary suspect), and their 11-year-old visually impaired child, Daniel. Additionally, it subtly addresses numerous sub-themes that lend themselves to social criticism.
The movie, it can be said, starts off in a traditional manner and also somewhat slowly. Although the incident and the start of the investigation—the heart of the plot—occur early on and the story builds on this, deepening through ambiguity until the end, the movie risks losing the audience's focus with its unadorned and calm approach. However, the subsequent deepening process, particularly through the investigation and court scenes in order to understand prime suspect Sandra's past, alibi, character and relationships in general, is remarkable. Here, lies the part that internalizes social issues: xenophobia, sexism, prejudice, injustice, etc. There, these themes are presented to us, and the motivations of the characters, as well as the history of their relationships, are laid out for examination from this point onwards.
The peak, and what I assume warranted its Palme d'Or, is the part right before the final resolution, the real climax which also sets the stage for the ultimate unraveling. This is where the uncensored backstory of the married protagonists' relationship is revealed as the movie shows us that the fall referred in the title is not the incident that is investigated but actually the state of the marriage. Until here, Sandra already falls into a really difficult situation especially after what the late Samuel told his psychiatrist about her, and the disclosure of the audio-recorded fight with Sandra in court both complicates the situation and opens a way in which Daniel has to be the decision influencer. Topics such as guilt stemming from their child's blindness, infidelity due to sexual distance, and the impact of disparities in the couple's successes on their relationship are explored in a thought-provoking manner. Thus, this part declares to us that while the main mystery may still indeed need to be solved, it is actually not the focal point.
Another critical point is the parent-child relationship that directly influences the story more through causality than depth, with the healthiness of that not reflected on screen but inferred, and the child character whose relationships we actually anticipate solely based on events within the story. Representing logic and instinct in the story, Daniel plays a decisive role (with contributions from his dog and the spectator assigned to accompany him during the trial) in how the story concludes, particularly highlighting the reality that a child's need for his parents during the development stage can transcend the right and wrong.
I genuinely believe the story could not have had a more flawless conclusion. It's neither clear nor unclear, meaning it's refined and skillful enough to leave the audience neither feeling abandoned nor too neatly and subjectively satisfied with the outcome they might have wished for. Despite some minor flaws, the movie is generally very successful, fitting well within modern cinema and deserves many of its awards and nominations. The performances, especially, are memorable, with Sandra Hüller delivering a performance that is worth discussing throughout, notably in the bilingual (English and French) court scenes. However, at times, the scenario seems a bit too formulaic, as if tailored for award success, which could be a point of criticism regarding the sincerity of the storytelling and screenplay. In summary, while not revolutionary enough to shake the foundations of the viewer's mindset or the historical evolution of its genre, it is a thought-provoking work and also quite a gripping one.
Mert Konuk
January 2025