There’s a conventional wisdom that tasteful comedy “punches up”, poking fun at those with greater social, political or economic power. Punching up is less likely to come across as arrogant or prejudiced and it tends to make for better business because most people are more willing to laugh at the powerful. The higher you punch, the fewer individuals feel like the butt of the joke and the less chance you have of offending your audience. 

This is a critique some have levelled against Swedish director Ruben Östlund’s most recent film, Triangle of Sadness – that, by choosing obvious targets, it takes no risks. 

The film is a glossy satire skewering the super-rich and the beautiful. It follows a vapid, privileged model couple through three acts of descent into madness; a cascading disaster of deliciously deserved cinematic chaos that reveals, breaks down, and then flips the societal hierarchies that benefit those at the top. 

The term “triangle of sadness” refers to the wrinkles between the eyebrows when frowning, which models often have “corrected” using Botox so that they can hold serious, unapproachable expressions with a flawless, mannequin-like façade. 

The term encapsulates the vanity and falseness that Östlund so scathingly slams in an early scene in which a camp interviewer has a pack of shirtless male models clump together and oscillate between smiling poses and grumpy poses. He explains, “Smiley brands are the cheap ones, and the more expensive your brand gets, you start to look down on your consumer.”

The widespread resentment of such conceited sentiments might have contributed to Triangle of Sadness’s being awarded the Palme d’Or at Cannes. Östlund’s previous film, The Square, (which also took home the Palme d’Or) pointed a finger at the pretentious nature of the contemporary art scene, another subject which is easy for most people to get behind. 

It might have been fair to dismiss Triangle of Sadness based on its easy prey, were it not for the phenomenal first act, which makes commentary more profound than simply hamming up their materialism. This early scene has Yaya clearly gold-digging and gaslighting her boyfriend Carl about his frustration at being expected to pay for everything. When he tries to have a conversation about gender roles with her she refuses, saying, “Talking about money is not sexy.”

Production still from ‘Triangle Of Sadness’. Image: courtesy of SF Studios

Charlbi Dean as Yaya and Harris Dickinson as Carl in ‘Triangle Of Sadness’. Image: courtesy of SF Studios

Production still from ‘Triangle Of Sadness’. Image: courtesy of SF Studios

Harris Dickinson as Carl in ‘Triangle Of Sadness’. Image: courtesy of SF Studios

Their raw, tragic and awkwardly hilarious bickering is sincere and rough around the edges, exposing a raw gendered dynamic of toxic wealthy cultures. This quid-pro-quo couple, whose seemingly empty relationship is based on mutualistic publicity gain, is a vehicle for the insecurity and paranoia that comes with such fragile and exorbitant privilege. South African actor and model Charlbi Dean Kriek, best known for her roles in the Spud films, gives a particularly affecting and infuriating performance as Yaya, the last role she played before her death in late August 2022.

This nuance starts devolving in the second act, which is just about lambasting the rich for their entitlement. Yaya and Carl are among the guests on a luxury super yacht who are fed their just-desserts during a low-pressure storm and proceed to throw them up all over one another in a revolting theatre of the absurd, a shitstorm which beckons in an entirely different kind of cinema. It’s likely that Östlund’s rocking of the boat until the guests pop is figuratively forecasting or encouraging political rocking of the boat until the rich spill their wealth.

Production still from ‘Triangle Of Sadness’. Image: courtesy of SF Studios

Woody Harrelson as The Captain in ‘Triangle Of Sadness’. Image: courtesy of SF Studios

Production still from ‘Triangle Of Sadness’. Image: courtesy of SF Studios

This act also points a finger at those who enable privilege by chasing wealth and prestige, like the yacht’s crew who psych themselves up chanting “Money! Money!” and refuse to say no to their guests’ insane requests, even at the risk of jeopardising everyone’s safety.

In contrast, this act also introduces the only likable character of the film, the disillusioned, knowingly hypocritical captain (played perfectly by Woody Harrelson) whose drunken nihilism ushers in their insane fate.

Thrust into a survival situation, the second act dissolves the social stratification of those on board; the third act takes it even further, when the pampered guests become dependant on and increasingly subservient to the more capable crew and a tyrannical matriarchy slowly emerges from the crisis.

Charlbi Dean as Yaya, Dolly de Leon as Abigail and Vicki Berlin as Paula in ‘Triangle Of Sadness’. Image: courtesy of SF Studios

As entertaining as this haunting, Lord of the Flies climax is, it’s pretty far removed from the genius of the film’s promising prologue. It does continue to explore socialised gender and transactional relationships, but the final twist in the knife is pretty blunt and gimmicky, with only a shred of the complexity and authenticity that foreshadowed it. 

All three of Östlund’s renowned films have both sharp dialogue and disastrous spectacle but the balance has shifted progressively towards the latter from Force Majeure, which delivered an avalanche of social commentary about fragile masculinity and the clashing of altruism and love, to The Square, and now to Triangle of Sadness, which leans more heavily into the fun, revolting imagery and cynical potshots of the second and third act than the brave and beguiling conversations of the first. 

If this divisive decision was made to nab easy awards, one hopes that attention and acclaim will give Östlund the freedom and confidence to focus more in future films on the original observational comedy and perceptive social commentary that he is clearly still capable of creating when he wants to. DM/ML

‘Triangle Of Sadness’. Image: courtesy of SF Studios

Triangle of Sadness is available in South Africa in cinemas.

You can contact We’re Watching via tevya@dailymaverick.co.za

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