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Human Triangulation: Review of Triangle of Sadness
A herd of male models—if that’s the proper collective noun for a group of them; maybe a pride or a flamboyance or a charm of male models would be more appropriate—at any rate, at the beginning of the film Triangle of Sadness, this group is being interviewed by a documentary film crew while auditioning for a job. Carl (Harris Dickinson), one of the hopefuls, is told by one of his potential employers to get rid of his triangle of sadness, the furrows or worry lines between the eyebrows. Carl nods and tries. Carl does not get the job.
The film Triangle of Sadness is something of a cypher. While addressing class differences, wealth—and its attendant arrogance, and—ultimately—the inequities of economic systems, it is also a scathing satire on the quid pro quos and power struggles of human relationships. But there’s also something more.
Triangle of Sadness is divided into three distinct—and distinctly different—chapters, which could perhaps be described as legs of a triangle, or (as it would exist in time as well as space), a triangulation—the navigational practice using two distinct points to determine the location of a third. Triangle of Sadness’ journey, and ultimate destination, navigated through the rough waters of political discourse and class conflict, ends with Carl’s uncertain place in the world.
The film opens with the documentary filming (a portion of which has the producer forcing the young men and Carl’s job interview, in which the director forces the young men to—figuratively—dance like monkeys. Carl is reluctant to speak to the camera, and in fact seems quite uncomfortable at the job interview. Later, during dinner with his date YaYa (Charibi Dean Kriek), a model and social media influencer, Carl is discomfited when she makes it clear she expects him to pay for dinner (even though she earns more than him). They argue, as they apparently often do, about money and their relationship expectations. Yaya tells Carl straight out she’s dating him for social media attention and will someday marry for money.
The next chapter, which unexpectedly switches locations to a luxury cruise ship catering to the ultra-rich, finds Yaya and Carl lounging on the deck (with Carl pausing every thirty seconds to take yet another shot of Yaya to post on her media outlets.) It turns out that the two have been invited on the cruise in order to give the company media exposure. Carl plainly feels uncomfortable rubbing elbows with some of the fantastically rich (and crass) fellow passengers, including Russian tycoon Dimitry (Zlatko Burik) who proudly proclaims he made his fortune in the manure business “selling shit” to the genteel elderly British couple Clementine (Amanda Walker) and Winston (Oliver Ford Davies) who made their money producing munitions.
Paula, the staff supervisor, insists that the crew grant every passenger request, absurd as they might be. One decides that every crew member go swimming in the sea. They do. Another mentions to Captain Thomas Smith (Woody Harrelson) that he needs to clean the sails. When he replies that the ship has no sails, he is met with a blank stare from the passenger, he gracefully accedes to her ridiculous request.
Captain Smith, an avowed Marxist—and chronic drunk—is finally persuaded by Paula to leave his cabin to host the captain’s dinner. The ship sails into a massive storm, with simultaneously horrible and hilarious consequences. Regaling in the chaos that has befallen his rich guests, Captain Smith retires to his cabin with Dimitry to debate political and economic theory over the intercom before its final misfortune as it capsizes.
The third leg of the triangle (triangulation) finds Yaya, Carl, Dimitry, Paula and several other passengers and crew members stranded on a desert island with very few provisions. When Paula discovers that Abigail (Dolly De Leon), one of the ship’s cleaning crew, is among the survivors, she commands her to serve the guests, but when it becomes apparent that Abigail is the only person on the island with survival skills, she takes command, threatening to withhold food if the other castaways do not recognize her sovereignty. They, of course, do.
Abigail subsequently takes command of the sole lifeboat and orders Carl to accompany her to bed at night. It soon becomes apparent to the rest of the crew—and Yaya—that Carl has become Abigail’s male concubine in exchange for food and other privileges. In exchange for being Abigail’s “trophy husband”, he considers leaving Yaya. This sudden reversal of class fortunes—though it only changes Carl’s status slightly because he also had been economically beholden to Yaya—is the final leg of Carl’s triangulation. His place in his rapidly shrinking world—in his tiny economic sphere—has been determined by the absurdities of fate and circumstance—changes which continually wash over him.
Triangle of Sadness is not only a wickedly funny satire addressing the inequities and arrogance of wealth, it also maps the complexities of relationships within the webs of power in our society. Social position is abruptly reversed on the desert island; the powerless are empowered and the rich are stripped of privilege. For all that, nothing changes. Abigail, newly empowered in her role as provider and distributor of resources, becomes the same sort of arrogant and selfish being she formerly served. Yaya finds herself humiliated but helpless when her man is taken from her.
As illustrated by the drunken argument about the qualities of Marxism versus Capitalism between Dimitry and Captain Smith before disaster struck, economics are not really the point. They may be the most obvious source of inequity, but economic disparity is only the symptom of a deeper and nastier side of human nature.
Triangle of Sadness is—by far—not your usual Hollywood escapist fare. At times—even in its funniest moments—the film is difficult to watch and while it seems on the surface to sustain a jerky and disjointed narrative, it is in fact, a brilliantly conceived condemnation of the the human weaknesses—arrogance and subjugation—that enable our economic inequities. Ruben Ostlund’s writing and direction make for an absorbing and disturbing portrait of human nature. There is a scene during the storm which aptly illustrates the disgusting abjection to which some subject others but which, no matter what they own, none can escape. We are, quite literally, drowning in a sea of this shit. It is a film well worth seeing.