Triangle of Sadness

I liked it quite a lot. It is long, uncomfortable and sometimes too obvious, but also funny, cruel and full of scenes that stay. What interested me most was not only that it laughs at rich people, but how it moves power around and shows that almost anyone, once they have an advantage, learns quickly how to use it.

The opening argument between Carl and Yaya about money is very good. It looks like a small couple's fight, but it is about pride, gender roles, expectations and power. They are not only arguing about a bill: they are arguing about what paying means and about how even a modern couple still carries old rules.

Watching those millionaires surrounded by luxury and obsessed with stupid things made me think it must be quite sad to have everything and live as if nothing were enough. Money is not bad in itself; the sad thing is turning it into ostentation, whims and disconnection. Their world feels like an empty existence wrapped in champagne.

The yacht section is the wildest and most direct. The woman saying the sails are dirty on a motor yacht sums up the stupidity of privilege. Cleaning windows while it rains is also great: an absurd task to maintain an absurd appearance. Östlund does not need subtlety; he only has to show the characters making fools of themselves while everything spins out of control.

The storm and the dinner are a scatological festival, but it works because it turns luxury into something grotesque. The rich vomiting, asking for champagne even to throw it up and clinging to protocol while everything literally goes to shit create a brutal image of appearances. It is broad, yes, but effective.

The clash between the Russian capitalist and the Marxist captain is also very funny. Both throw around slogans, quotes and ideology while the ship sinks around them. The film does not want either of them to win intellectually, but to make two men in love with their own voices look ridiculous just as reality has already overtaken them. And when Refused's "New Noise" plays, the film takes off: it comes in like a kick and breaks the atmosphere of luxury and etiquette.

The island is the best part because it reverses the hierarchies. Abigail, who was the toilet manager on the yacht, becomes the most important person because she can hunt, make fire and cook. And she is right: if she catches the octopus and keeps the group alive, she does not have to share it as if everyone had contributed equally. Money stops ruling; real usefulness does.

There the film becomes nastier. It does not simply say "rich bad, poor good". When Abigail has power, she also uses it. She controls the food, decides who gets more, negotiates with Carl and clings to her new position. Power does not magically make anyone noble; often it only changes who gets to impose the rules.

Carl sleeping with Abigail is uncomfortable and very good. Before, his value came from being handsome and a model; on the island, his beauty still has value, but now as a currency of survival. It is no longer glamour: it is food, shelter and protection. Yaya is humiliated and Abigail understands perfectly what she has in her hands.

I also really liked the food issue. Nobody controls it, especially the spoiled youngsters. Abigail sets rules and they still eat the crackers, as if resources were infinite. That lack of self-control portrays very well people who have lived expecting there to always be more. On land it would be silly; on an island it can condemn the group.

The donkey scene feels endless, but that is exactly why it works. Everyone talks about survival, but when they actually have to kill an animal, everything becomes clumsy, uncomfortable and pathetic. Civilization falls off them the moment they have to do something physical, dirty and necessary.

The ending at the resort seemed very good to me. Abigail discovers they are not lost at the end of the world, but next to luxury, and she panics because she knows her power will disappear. She would become invisible again. The open ending works: it is enough to understand her fear and Carl's desperate run through the bushes, with "Marea (We've Lost Dancing)" pushing that final energy.

It is not perfect. Sometimes it is too long, too obvious and too pleased with its own nastiness. Some metaphors are broad, and I understand anyone who sees it as an easy satire of the rich. But it worked for me because it made me laugh, made me uncomfortable and left me thinking about how people change when the distribution of power changes.

In the end, it remains for me a very enjoyable, acidic and quite intelligent film, although not always subtle. I liked the money argument, the ship disaster, the absurdity of appearances, Refused, Abigail taking command, food as power and that ending at the resort. An uneven satire, yes, but with powerful scenes and a clear idea: when the world turns upside down, privileges do not disappear; they simply look for a new owner.