User Reviews

The triangle of sadness is that space right above the nose and between the eyebrows that can get all bunched up when someone is worried, or angry, or confused. We're told this in the opening moments of "Triangle of Sadness" when a male model is asked to relax his during an audition. That model, Carl, played by Harris Dickinson, is dating Yaya (the late Charlbi Dean), a social media influencer, and the first chapter of this film, titled "Carl and Yaya," consists almost entirely of the two of them bickering. Carl is vaguely frustrated by the dynamic in their relationship and feels manipulated by Yaya, but in ways he can never clearly articulate. He thinks they fall too quickly into stereotyped gender norms, but every time Yaya tries to correct the situation, he gets angry and tells her she's not getting the point. Does Carl have a valid beef with Yaya, or is he just being a jerk? Yaya admits that she's manipulative and confesses to feeling contrite about it, but is she really? And in any case, do I care about the not super important tribulations of these vapid people, and do I want to spend two and a half hours watching them?

But don't worry. Chapter 2 comes along, and Carl and Yaya's relationship quickly becomes secondary. This part is titled "The Yacht," and puts us on a luxury cruise with Carl and Yaya and a bunch of other people who will reveal themselves to be insufferable representatives of the rich and.....if not famous, then....well.....really, really rich.

The big set piece of this chapter is the captain's dinner, presided over by Woody Harrelson, who eats a hamburger and fries while everyone else eats squiggly sea creatures and disturbingly colorless jellies. He'll be glad he made that choice, because the seas get rocky. Things go quickly down the toilet from there. Except for the things that don't make it to the toilet in time. And the things that come up from the toilet in all of their liquid and ghastly detail. Seriously, this section of the movie made me queasy for a whole day afterwards every time I even looked at food.

You wouldn't think it could get much worse, but it does. We eventually get to chapter 3, "The Island," which finds a handful of survivors who've escaped an exploding yacht (long story) establishing a new social order until help arrives. This is where the movie kicks into full gear, and we start to understand better everything that came before. This is also where the actress Dolly De Leon emerges almost literally out of nowhere to steal the movie out from under everyone else. She plays Abigail, "toilet manager" on the cruise, but now queen bee, because she's the only one who has any practical skills. She can catch fish with her bare hands, make fires, cook. What happens when the social order is entirely upended? Abigail gives us a glimpse. What good are your Rolex watches when the most desired commodity becomes a bag of pretzel sticks? As Abigail establishes herself as matriarchal leader of this ragtag civilization, all of those navel gazing conversations about gender roles that Carl and Yaya were having way back at the beginning start to have more meaning, and their fraught relationship directly affects the direction things take.

This is all capped off by one of those ambiguous endings that some people will love and that will send others across the internet into a froth of rage.

"Triangle of Sadness" is not especially profound satire. It doesn't have anything to say about rich people that a million other movies haven't already said, and what it does say it says obviously and heavy handedly. But give me any movie about privileged, entitled people being made aware of their helplessness and I'm on board. And this film is right on the nose about what happens when the lower classes get a taste of the power they wield. I mean, during the pandemic, when people in service jobs couldn't work or decided not to, we saw a whole population of affluent Americans lose their minds at the thought of not having enough toilet paper. Just imagine if there had been a shortage of pretzel sticks.

This is a fiendishly entertaining movie and makes up in gumption what it lacks in subtlety.

Grade: A.

It speaks to the state of current society when 2022 churned out not one, but three films that focus on the absurdity of the rich. While The Menu (2022) focused on the "foodie" culture that surrounds so many wealthy individuals, Glass Onion (2022) highlighted those "influencers" who try to disrupt industries. The one film I feel best captured the satire of the ultra-wealthy was definitely Triangle of Sadness (2022). The humor was the darkest of all three, but it went further than the other two in exposing the uselessness of the rich.

The first act sets up all the ridiculous things that rich people do. From absurd reasons to dump a romantic interest to how little money they actually have on hand, the audience gets a glimpse into their absurd world of opulence. Once the yacht enters the picture in the second act, we see all the different varieties of rich and how they almost have their own language. Then the tables turn. Wealth cannot control the weather or a person's bodily functions. By the third act, the roles have been reversed and the invisible working-level people prove they have much more worth when money is not involved.

Without the third act, Triangle of Sadness merely highlights the disconnected world of the rich. By flipping the situation around, this film shows that the wealthy have no inherent value or anything to contribute to society. Once the currency shifts from dollars to donuts, useful skills become much more valuable. And for those who are merely trying to survive in a neoliberal society, they must adapt and learn all the skills that the rich have offloaded to those they consider "beneath them." This is the brilliance of Triangle of Sadness.

Highlighting the uselessness of the rich, I give Triangle of Sadness 5.0 stars out of 5.

In the very first sequence, a group of ethnically diverse male models who somehow still look pretty much the same (see the irony?) was auditioning for a fashion campaign. Then there's this casting director who had the audacity to say "fashion is not about appearance anymore, it's also about what's inside" (lol) then asked Carl (portrayed by Harris Dickenson) to add some "groove" in his walk. Then we cutaway to a runaway show where Carl's girlfriend, Yaya is working in. The show starts with all the empty slogans that those brands are using these days like "everyone's equal", "act now, love now", etc.

That was only the first 10 minutes. The fire power of the director/writer Ruben Ostlund's sarcasm only grew stronger and stronger in the remaining 2 hours. The movie was divided into three acts, and each of them focused on a different issue in the society and was able to simultaneously add some emotional depth to the title "Triangle of Sadness".

The story seems a bit ridiculous but the shots taken on privileges were unbelievably accurate and on point. There were countless examples that I seriously cannot list one by one as it probably is going to take me a whole day. If you, like me, are so sick of those privileged people claiming to be inclusive, you will find this movie extremely satisfying.

There's just one more thing that I wanted to point out, and it is the brilliant ending scene. Carl was running through woods, desperately trying to find out Yaya's fate, with the perfect song, "Marea (we've lost dancing)" by Fred again... & The Blessed Madonna playing in the background.

Dancing represents the raw emotional pleasure that we human beings get to experience, but all those problems in this world are making it hard for us to do so. Nevertheless, just like how the survivors finally found out that the "deserted island" actually has a luxury resort, and just like how the song goes, if we can somehow live through this, what comes next will be marvelous.

Ten days after its opening here in Denmark, this movie is still playing to packed theatres, so apparently many people like it. It also has a pretty high rating, but I fear it will go down.

I am an anti-capitalist myself, so I appreciated what this movie was trying to do, which is to use ham-fisted symbolism to problematize and criticize capitalism. There were some good scenes, mainly during the captain's dinner scene, but unfortunately I just don't think Östlund is much of an accomplished writer or director. Throughout this movie I was bored - esp. By the slowness, which is really unforgivable. Very little really happened in this movie in terms of plot, and it took forever to get to the meatier parts. For a comedy, it also wasn't much fun. 2-3 laughs, tops. Comic timing wasn't good. The political message of the movie was also so heavy-handed that it can hardly be called art; it's more of a didactic tract. At 2 hours and 30 minutes, the movie is far, far, faaar too long - an entire hour could easily be cut.

The length is a particular sin because of the movie's infuriatingly terrible ending, which is sudden and nonsensical, making the audience feel like we've only gotten half of the story. That ending, which cut off the plot, leaving it unresolved, cost this movie a whole star in my rating. Endings are hard, granted - but this is the ending of a writer/director who really doesn't know how to structure a story. As a result, the movie only gets a slightly above average rating - 6 stars out of 10 - from me. A disappointment.

This movie is a waste of time. It is not funny, the acting is bad. Annoying scenes that add nothing to the movie. The rating of this movie should be way lower. I truly believe people got payed for these reviews, because usually imbd is right on the money, but not this time. And on top of that it takes 2.5 hours? The movie starts with this weird scene about modelling and develops into a movie about this couple with issues. Than suddenly we are on the yacht and the couple we just got to know for the last hour suddenly doesnt appear and the movie starts going all over the place. And so the question arises why in the hell did we just spend so much time getting to know this annoying couple while they are of no importance to the movie at all? Horrible 0,0.

Triangle of Sadness (or Sans Filtre) is most likely the best film Ruben Östlund has ever made. I say "most likely" because I'm actually a bit behind on this director, having only seen The Square when I was analyzing its screenplay for my degree project in 2019, ergo I couldn't take in its twisted satire or defiant imagery the way I would've liked.

Now, the Swedish legend takes his signature vibe -- pungent uneasiness that soon transitions into abject chaos -- out to sea. And let me tell you, if Titanic had involved a thundering storm instead of an iceberg and if instead of two young lovers trading sweet clichés we got copious cavalcades of sh-t and vomit, I'd get the hype a lot more.

A multinational production, the cast is rich and hails from all over the world. We first join two models, Carl (Harris Dickinson) and his more successful influencer girlfriend Yaya (the late Charlbi Dean), working in the modern fashion industry -- which is realistically depicted but subtly-yet-bitingly satirical like only Östlund knows how (here taking a few jabs at performative equality; companies boasting the DEI of their models who are all shaped about the same).

As they're invited to a luxury superyacht cruise along what seems to be the East African coast, we meet a multitude of other characters, including Woody Harrelson as the drunken ship's captain, Vicki Bergen as the head of staff, Dolly De Leon as a Filipino cleaning lady who becomes important later, and Zlatko Buric as a Russian oligarch. Between this and 2012, I conclude that "boisterous Russian billionaire" was simply the role Buric was born to play.

For me (and my fellow Swedish viewers, no doubt), it was especially fun to see revue legend Henrik Dorsin as a lonesome Swedish millionaire. He just has a perfect face and demeanor for comedy -- even the very first shot of him as a dejected, pudgy middle-aged man sitting by himself made me and my theater company laugh.

The main attraction in Triangle of Sadness is of course the Captain's Dinner scene, and even if you don't know what's about to happen, you'll suspect it from the start. The film builds it up perfectly; from the subtle tilt of the actors and props, showing the constant (and slowly increasing) instability of the yacht as the seas grow rougher, to the more and more noticeable ways in which the expressions and body language show onsetting nausea, everything flawlessly rises to when Hell at Sea is finally unleashed and all the pratfalls, emeses, and even diarrhea are so convincing I almost believed Östlund must have force-fed his crew ipecac and laxatives.

Of course, on top of being a grade-A example of escalatingly chaotic cringe comedy, its setting and characters allow plentiful commentary about billionaires, the industries that get them rich, and the very system that allows some human beings to have that much more than others in the first place. Even during the big "barfing section", these ideas appear -- more explicitly than ever, in fact. (The captain and the oligarch, being the only two who don't get seasick, stay behind in the dining hall to get piss-drunk and trade anti-capitalist vs. Anti-communist arguments, quotes, and platitudes, which they then start belting out over the intercom as they become friends and lock themselves inside the captain's office -- whilst the still panic-stricken passengers and crew are forced to listen as they soak in vomit and overflowing septic water.)

By circumstances I won't reveal (though I will say that they involve one of the most beautifully poetic and f-cked-up instances of "Hoist by His Own Petard" I have ever seen), a few of the characters wind up on a deserted island where all notions of social/class hierarchy have ceased to apply. This section of the film will be even more satisfying to some viewers (particularly those of a socialist persuasion), as the rich are robbed of their abundance and must subsist on base needs like everyone else.

But there is yet another layer: stripped of all their belongings, convinced that everyone is now equal and can distribute their resources in terms of need, the tiny society they form soon evolves to a point whereby it starts to resemble a prototype of the very system it sought to destroy. What this implies, I leave for you to decide.

The final shot of the film also invites much speculation. Where is our hero running? We can tell -- through basic cinematic language, as my companion pointed out -- that he must be pursuing the characters we saw leave earlier (he's running from the left side of the screen to the right, just as we see the others do throughout their hike) but what has happened? Does he know what the others discovered? Did that one character do what she appeared to be doing to the other character once they reached their goal, and if so, is our hero running because he fears the worst or because he was in on the plot? Or can it be so simple that he has been alerted of the salvation that awaits?

Triangle of Sadness is outstanding. My only complaints are minor, including a few character moments that don't make sense -- and can't really be explained away by in-text stupidity -- as well as exactly one CGI donkey that doesn't look great. Still, this is the best time I've had in a movie theater in a long time, as is so often the case when the attendees are offered puke bags and at least one viewer is forced to leave the auditorium for some air.

At the screening I attended (and likely all other screenings in my country), the film was preceded by a short snippet of Östlund showing off the Palme D'Or he received at Cannes in May, where he also garnered a standing ovation of eight minutes. Normally, I'd find that sort of thing a tad pretentious, but Östlund seems like a genuine man and, Hell, when it's a filmmaker from my country, I can't help but develop a sports-team mentality of sorts. Suck on that, Denmark. (I kid, I thought the Riget: Exodus was also really good.)

"Money doesn't change you; it reveals who you are" is a quote which has been going around the internet for years, concocted by the self-improvement community--you know, they type of nosey people who make a living out of telling other people what to do. But amongst this shallow ambiguity, this line is true, even if it incriminates man more than money.

I can easily imagine the rich and morally corrupt characters in Ruben Östlund's "Triangle of Sadness" standing by that quote. They are people who made a living out of being able to decriminalize themselves with shameless efficiency. And not because they are saints either--one elderly couple made their fortune selling weapons, a disgusting fact that is even more so today. To continue, the Russian oligarch Dimitry (Zlatko Buric) is literally selling fecal matter while the influencer Yaya (the late Charlbi Dean) takes pictures of her food without eating it--she is lactose intolerant.

This is what Ruben Östlund does in the first half of the movie: introducing the characters, letting them mingle a bit, as the viewer basks in their self-pity and despair. And it all takes place on a luxury cruise whose nameless captain is a drunk and reluctant Woody Harrelson. He spends most of the time in the movie locked in his cabin, drunk out of his mind in a scene which is both funny but also infuriating. The captain is disgusted by his overly privileged guests and couldn't be bothered to present himself despite the constant insistence from his uptight crew. His abhorrent state is also a form of protest. When he eventually presents himself for the captain's dinner, greeting all his guests, it doesn't take long before he degenerates into a left v. Right argument with Dimitry--again, funny mixed with a lot of thought.

The turning point of the movie happens in the aforementioned captain's dinner which takes place during an unusually bad thunderstorm which constantly shakes the yacht--and Östlund shakes the camera as well, making us feel as nauseating as the guests whose experience takes a turn for the worst. Without giving too much away, this scene takes us into the final act of the movie, in which the characters are left stranded on a deserted island. The survivors are a mix of both the guests and the crew, and this is where Östlund manifests his ideas. Here, a crew member working in the engine room is suspected as a pirate simply because he wasn't seen on the ship. This makes a great point about the invisibility of the working class, who are the foundation of the entire civilization yet are being given the short end of the stick constantly.

It is here, also, that capitalism and socialism are being flipped upside down, as Abigail (Dolly De Leon) the cleaning lady takes control due to her survival skills. She is able to fish with her bare hands and becomes the singular figure on the island on which everyone depends. So, now, she treats her rich subjects with the same trickle down abuse they do. This is a satisfactory release, but is socialism that loses as the movie shoots itself in the foot. Abigail, in her makeshift kingdom, employs the same capitalist tactics people in her working class condemn. It begs the question whether people are naturally hierarchic, whether socialism has a chance, whether up and down mean anything at all, whether this movie means anything at all.