TRIANGLE OF SADNESS

"Ronald Reagan he said also 'Socialism works only in Heaven where they don't need it and in Hell where they already have it.'" - Dimitry

The social hierarchy system is the stratified ranking of group members along a valued measurement. A social and economic concept that dates back to the Aztecs and Egyptians, this arrangement of superior or subordinate predates modern society. But even so, with the rise of social media and the growth of the wealth gap, this system has become an unspoken understanding. Now imagine if these faculties of your wealth or your poverty were removed from the equation and your value was assessed in primal survival skills. Who would be superior then? Ruben Ostlund’s new film ‘Triangle of Sadness’ is a dark comedy that brilliantly basks in the irony of its own privilege. Hilarious and self-penitent, Ostlund showcases the ridiculousness of the modern generational caste system, utilizing the proverbial hand that feeds him to chastise a system even he benefits from.

‘Triangle of Sadness’ follows fashion models Carl and Yaya. Initially getting into arguments about gender roles and the breadwinner archetype, they find themselves on an all expenses paid yacht due to Yaya’s Instagram popularity. On the yacht are other privileged members of society; a Russian oligarch, a lonely millionaire, and an elderly couple who got rich off of selling military weaponry. Spending most of the time oblivious to the plight of the workers around them, these affluent aristocrats’ indulgent lifestyles are put to the test when they get stranded on a deserted island after they are attacked by pirates. Without the nepotistic fortunes and the embedded cultural advantages of the civilized world, the wealthy find themselves at the whim of those they have always considered inferior. A ludicrously entertaining social commentary film about the backwards nature of wealth disparity, Ostlund combines absurdity with dry humor to produce a revelatory mockery about the myopic nature of class system mentality.

Part I: Yaya and Carl

Divided into three parts, the film’s first act is its weakest installment. The opening scene sets the tone, immediately addressing the disproportion between the consumers of H&M and Balenciaga during a model casting call; implying the latter is unwelcoming and commercially stoic, and the former is inclusive and accessible. Yaya and Carl spend the rest of the time arguing over the dinner bill and the concept of gender and relational equality. While Ostlund’s satirical subtlety is made very clear, it does take awhile for the film’s momentum to catch its stride. This section feels too long winded and flat, it’s not until the second part that his comedic groundwork explodes into chaotic genius.

Part II: The Yacht

Benefitting from their status online, Carl and Yaya find themselves on a yacht with fellow high brow members of society. Their tone-deaf activities include Carl taking pictures of Yaya for her Instagram, relishing in each other's fortunes and successes, and forcing crew members to take a break and jump in the ocean. All of this tediousness and mundane build up lead to what might be considered the greatest scene of the year: The Captains Dinner.

After the absent Captain finally shows up, having drunkenly barricaded himself in his room, he decides to throw the dinner during a storm. With the entire room swaying and glasses falling off tables, course after course is served until each sweaty, restrained socialite can’t maintain their composure and pure, unfettered pandemonium ensues. Like a repugnant symphony, guest after guest vomits uncontrollably in every direction possible, making the comedic brilliance of Kristen Wiig’s food poisoning scene in ‘Bridesmaids’ look like child’s play. People having heart attacks, some shitting all over themselves, elders falling dizzily down stairs, a ship-wide power outage- what could have gone wrong, did go wrong, Murphy’s Law smirking at a job well done.

Not only is the crescendo of misfortune unyielding, it's absolutely hilarious. Add a pipe system bursting into a river of shit and vomit and the captain and his new Russian friend arguing over the intercom about capitalism and marxism, and it turns into satirical, shock value gold. The scene stealing ending to this part, after the camera pans over the scared and soiled wealthy guests, shows the elderly, weapon company owning couple completely unaffected, as they watch the sun rise. All of a sudden, a grenade lands at their feet, and as they stupidly admire their own branded commodity, it goes off, and a complete twist of fate comes full circle in a wave of laughter and moral vindication.

Part III: The Island

Stranded on a deserted island, the only remaining survivors of the wreckage have just as many survival skills as expected: none. So in prototypical irony, when Abigail, one of the Yacht’s cleaners, arrives in a lifeboat, she jumps into action building a fire and catching fish for dinner. The immediacy of her supplantation as the leader of the group is the film’s chef d’oeuvre.

The social criticism in part III is simple and poignant. The clear denouncement of the modern day wealth structure and racial stereotypes is clear in Oslund’s vision, and also seemingly acknowledged in the fictional realm of the film. The Yacht passengers are aware of their inability to contribute, and therefore spend their time fawning and obeying Abigail in any way possible. In this setting, with the strings of society cut and the engrained socio-economic structure dissipated, money and titles mean nothing.

Ruben Ostlund’s ‘Triangle of Sadness’ is what Adam Mckay thought he was doing with ‘Don’t Look Up.’ With a commitment and poeticism in his art to ridicule, Ostlund uses his voice to create a dialogue through cinematic subject matter. Ostentatiousness abound and frivolity en masse, the elite thrive in their 1% bubble and their superficiality– all it takes is a metaphorical yacht vacation and an island to remind everyone of humankind's humble beginnings. ‘Triangle of Sadness’ invites its audience to reflect on their income bracket and does it in the most amusing and entertaining way possible.