Triangle of Sadness

Ruben Östlund delivers an excellent social satire in an endlessly entertaining and sometimes blisteringly funny form that seems to combine three films at once. The centrepiece of this distinctive work is, of course, the quite literal shitstorm in the middle of the plot, which almost seems to have dropped out of a Troma production and then floated out into the international waters of A-list cinema. It won't be a film for everyone, yet it is clearly the most significant highlight of this year's festival in Karlovy Vary and without a doubt one of the greatest film events of the year. When it gets a domestic theatrical release, put it in your calendar! [KVIFF 2022] (2022-07-09)

“The only place socialism works is hell – and they don't need it there.” Triangle of Sadness is a satirical ode to the inevitable inequality in society. Balance is utopia. In terms of entertainment value, this dinner tasting from The Square colossally developed into a concert of absurdity on a luxury yacht trumps anything we have seen in the comedy genre in recent years. And it’s not even a comedy genre film. I also enjoyed the hard shocks of the panning camera. When you have something to say, you can repeatedly remind yourself that form is only a means of saying it. Just as all of the whimsical glamour propriety of the passengers on this grand voyage is unnecessary... I’m not giving the film a fifth star because the last, “island” third of the film falls short of the “boat” part in terms of both humor and the effectiveness of capping off the scenes. But the ending is excellent! (2022-07-11)

Östlund’s take on Animal Farm is a wonderfully biting and sardonic portrait of our society, which likes to talk about equality, but does nothing to promote it. Triangle of Sadness stylistically straddles the delicate line between the refined sophistication and complexity of Parasite and the delightfully carnivalesque and cheekily incorrect shallowness of Troma Entertainment’s social caricatures like Poultrygeist: Night of the Chicken Dead and Shakespeare’s Sh*tstorm. Thanks to this, it also remains uniquely universally accessible and, at the same time, so multi-layered that each viewer will find in it a different character in whom they will see a reflection of themselves and their position in society, which is hopeless and desperately undignified, despite momentary illusions or supposed status. Östlund isn’t afraid to weave in the absurdity of today’s world of the young and aware as well as the old and secure, but he doesn’t neglect those in between, who keep the whole spoiled, civilisational circus going. With savage laughter, he lets the viewers enjoy beautifully served nuggets that stimulate our inner anger and maliciousness in order to dip us in the bile and show us the truly warped nature of gender roles and the social hierarchy of excessive capitalism. ___ PS: The icing on the cake in the film’s excellent cast is not Woody Harrelson, but Zlatko Buric, who hasn’t had such space and such a great role perhaps since the phenomenal Pusher 3. ___ PS2: I very much hope that the film will be distributed to multiplexes, because after watching it you will want to walk among luxury shops, where models promoting meaningless status symbols look at you from the display windows with sullen faces. (2022-05-18)

Östlund's sell-out with one luxurious fecal scene and a lot of populism that doesn’t offend anyone at all. In this respect, the Swedish merchant of cheap satire is the best in the world. As a filmmaker, however, he is obviously past his prime. Press play and summon Force Majeure. (2023-01-02)

Ruben Östlund delivers a wry satire about contemporary society and people who are not prepared to lose their social status. But it is not intellectual onanism, it is an extremely entertaining and witty comedy that doesn’t take anything sacred, and apart from the great cast, original ideas and clever dialogues, it offers at least one scene that will go down in film history for its absurdity and escalation. One of the best films of the year. (2022-09-20)