‘Triangle of Sadness’ Review: White Lotus Meets Lord of the Flies
A Totally Reel Review
Rate It Out of Eight
6/8
Another year, another “Eat the Rich” Oscar/Emmy bait is released. It’s unclear whether Hollywood elites are incredibly self-aware or really like to see themselves brutally mocked. Just look at the recent success of Parasite or White Lotus (which conveniently announced season 2 after the Emmy nominations in Limited Series), though reducing Parasite to “Oscar bait” is doing it an incredible disservice.
Triangle of Sadness is biting, sharp, and funny in its satire of the rich and the beautiful. It’s pessimistic but only because of its realistic depictions. It’s a mashup of White Lotus and Lord of the Flies. Unlike other “Eat the Rich” movies, this one critiques two different currencies of power: money and beauty. The first half of the movie focuses primarily on Carl (Harris Dickinson) and Yaya (Charlbi Dean, may she rest in peace), two young, broke models who find themselves on a $250 million luxury yacht for free. The satire of our Instagram-obsessed generation is clear in the French title of this movie: Sans Filtre (No Filter). In the second half, the ship’s passengers are stranded on an island. None of the characters are particularly likable but they’re not supposed to be; none of them really change who they are and end the movie more or less exactly as they were in the beginning. Notably, Harris Dickinson, the late Charlbi Dean, Dolly de Leon, and Vicki Berlin are standouts.
Twin Currencies of Wealth and Attractiveness
As with all “Eat the Rich” movies, this one goes out of its way to depict wealthy people as self-absorbed, ignorant, and unlikable. We meet one couple whose family manufactures bombs and other weapons. They lament that when the UN passed restrictions on weapons production, it was a “hard time” for them as profits fell by 25%. Again, very likable people and very easy to sympathize with. Another one tries to express gratitude by offering Rolex watches because he is “very, very rich.” His reflex is to use money because he has the emotional depth of a teaspoon. They get away with their behavior because they have money shielding them at every point in their lives.
Even Carl and Yaya, who aren’t rich but are on the yacht because Yaya is an influencer, wield enormous power over the crew. At one point, a crew member took off his shirt in the sun as he was cleaning the ship because he was sweating; Carl caught Yaya admiring the view (his masculinity is too fragile to admit that he was also admiring). Jealous and insecure, Carl gets the man fired. Those two are only able to afford the yacht in the first place because they’re both incredibly good-looking people. The opening scene with the rows of shirtless male models reminded me of Abercrombie’s marketing back in the 2000s and early 2010s. The comment about Carl needing Botox sadly isn’t even an exaggeration of our looks-obsessed society. Pretty privilege is very real and comes in handy for Carl when they’re on the island.
Your looks paid for the ticket
The crew are explicitly instructed to obey every outlandish command in the hopes of a good tip at the end of the voyage. The way they start chanting “money money money” and start dancing is a visual representation of the cult-like hold that money has on those without it. It’s not hard to feel bad for the crew members and anyone who’s worked in the service industry can relate.
Those who haven’t watched the movie, please skip to The False Pursuit of Equality. The fact that the rich people are so annoying to the crew makes it that much more satisfying when they start throwing up. It’s even better once you realize that it’s the Russian woman’s fault for insisting everyone drop everything and go down the water slide. The chefs had warned that the food would go bad. Because only the rich were able to afford those expensive seafood dishes, they were the only ones throwing up caviar orange and champagne gold vomit. It’s even better when the weapons manufacturers are killed with one of their own weapons. Alas, even before the boat sinks, we see rows of crew members bent on the floor scrubbing away the vomit, the literal mess that the rich made.
The imagery during the food poisoning part is a little too long — we don’t need a solid 15 to 20 minutes of the boat rocking, people bent over the toilets, literal shit sweeping the halls, and Woody Harrelson debating Marxism with a Russian oligarch. That debate, Yaya and Carl’s dinner debacle about who pays, and the fashion show’s proclamation about equality in fashion are all a little too on the nose about the movie’s message about inequality.
The False Pursuit of Equality
The movie is light-hearted and funny but the tones shifts after the shipwreck. I lost track the number of times I heard the audience gasp and laugh audibly in the first half. The satire sets up certain questions of equality (the fashion show quite literally flashed a message about equality and a new climate is coming to the world… of fashion). Is equality possible in a capitalist society? Can a man and woman in the relationship be truly equal if one of them makes more money?
This is the genius of the shipwreck — on that island, money is useless. It loses its hold on people and that shipwreck was the great equalizer — in a way. Survival skills become the new currency to bargain with and we see the movie take a turn towards Lord of the Flies. It almost seems like a social experiment to see how people react and survive — do they collaborate or do are they quick to create their own mini hierarchies on the island?
For those who haven’t seen the movie, please skip to A Fresh Take on Eat the Rich. Spoiler alert: it’s the latter. Abigail, a toilet manager on the ship, has a clear advantage. We see the wealthy patrons trade their Rolex watches for a single night in the shelter of the lifeboat, which Abigail monopolizes. She basically acts out the argument between the Marxist captain and the Russian capitalist when she argues with Paula about whether she should share her fish. Abigail argues that because she caught the fish, built the fire, and cooked the fish for everyone, she should be allowed to eat more. There’s so much tension in that scene that I was expecting Paula to start a fight with Abigail.
Is true equality even possible? In an environment where money doesn’t matter, will people learn to collaborate and treat each other the same? This movie seems to say no. Even in these situations, there will be natural advantages and distinctions. The men are asked to sleep outside while the women stay in the shelter of the life boat. Or in Carl’s case, his good looks earns him extra privileges in a case of quid pro quo. There’s a reason utopian societies are non-existent.
It’s fascinating to see just how sheltered and incompetent the rich people are on that island. They lack the most basic skills because they’ve hired help their entire lives. I’m not saying I’d fare much better on a deserted island, but I wouldn’t just sit there and wait for someone to do all the work. They all depend on Abigail like helpless children waiting for their mother. It’s interesting to note that the hierarchy is inverted and Abigail sits at the top. She has absolute power and everyone on the island knows that. Even in a vacuum with no capitalist systems of wealth, social hierarchies inevitably develop. Yet for the rich and beautiful, the island unites and bonds the group like nothing else could’ve. Stranded on an island without their money to buy them protection, they are all the same at their very most fundamental level; they all have the same needs to survive.
That’s what makes the ending so jarring and so effective — even after the horrors of surviving on an island, these people don’t change. When they’re first shipwrecked, Paula is extremely condescending towards Abigail, commanding her to hand over the cases of water and hurry up, not even leaving a bottle for Abigail. She keeps reminding Abigail that on the ship, she was nothing but a toilet manager and Paula was her senior. These hierarchies are ingrained in us.
At the end, Yaya offers to help Abigail. At first, we’re touched — even though Paula has been sleeping with her boyfriend, Yaya wants to find a way to help Abigail. We see Abigail’s resolve waver as she creeps up behind Yaya. But then Yaya offers Abigail to be her assistant and work under her. Though the camera doesn’t show what happens next, I have no doubt Abigail followed through. Yaya is still the same self-absorbed person she was at the beginning of the movie and Abigail is still the strategic woman who will use any means necessary to advance herself.
A Fresh Take on Eat the Rich
Triangle of Sadness drags a little in the middle of the movie but is otherwise a refreshing entry to this trope. It elicits strong reactions, whether you find the movie hilarious, gross, or surprising, and is definitely worth a watch. It’s doubly sharp as a satire against the rich and the superficial social-media obsessed.
For those wondering about the title, triangle of sadness refers to your forehead, that patch between your eyebrows and nose where wrinkles form. In the opening scene, a model scout asks Carl to relax his triangle of sadness and notes that he may need to get Botox. Sadly, this isn’t even an exaggeration, I know people in their early to mid-twenties who have already started getting preventative Botox. These commentaries are timeless and I can already see the Oscar nominations for this movie, but I wouldn’t put my bets on it to win.
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