Geometrical and gastric, TRIANGLE OF SADNESS is the hypotenuse of Ruben Ostlund’s rise as a film maker of frank, confronting comedy.
Equilaterally grotesque, bizarre and brazen, TRIANGLE OF SADNESS is cynicism masquerading as optimism, or vice versa, an apex of a career that flaunts, taunts and haunts human failure and societal inequality.
Scaling the scalene, osculating the isosceles while oscillating a swing and far from narrow narrative of outrageous fortune, TRIANGLE OF SADNESS is a film in three acts, beginning basically as a two hander between lovers, Carl and Yaya, then broadening to coruscating cruise ship comedy, culminating in a version of The Admirable Crichton.
The centrepiece of TRIANGLE OF SADNESS is the cruise ship captain’s dinner, a seven-course meal, presented on the same evening as a storm approaches. The passengers get seasick, the plumbing cannot cope with the deluge of effluent from the affluent and the captain, superbly played by Woody Harrelson, becomes so drunk that he starts to read from “The Communist Manifesto” over the speaker system.
The rich are represented in a diverse dichotomy from the sweet old English couple who just happen to have made their money on landmines and hand grenades, to the Russian oligarch who made his fortune from fertiliser. “I sell shit.” he proudly proclaims.
The third act of TRIANGLE OF SADNESS is a sobering turning of the tables where stranded and marooned on a deserted island, the rich and opulent become subservient to a toilet attendant who knows how to hunt and fish and make fire.
Dolly de Leon delights in the role of servant become master, captaining the film to its startling finale.
A satire with its sights set on the class system, TRIANGLE OF SADNESS is a visually elegant, acerbically eloquent, and absurdly relevant film that is provocative, playful, impudent and pertinent.
