Film Review
Sex is the Ultimate Prize for Rising to the Top
A Provocative Examination of Social Hierarchy
*Alert: This article contains spoilers.*
Ruben Östlund’s Triangle of Sadness, despite winning the Palme d’Or, is by no means a perfect film.
First of all, at 2 hours and 29 minutes, it is way too long. The opening dinner table argument, the fateful night of vomiting, sewage, drunken rambling, and the island lull following the shipwreck could all be cut in half.
Additionally, the storytelling is uneven. It follows two stunning influencers taking a complimentary luxury cruise as part of a promotional deal, yet the protagonists are all but missing during a major crisis. The transition from the yacht to the island is abrupt and jarring.
But it is still a good movie, better than most. Its Palme d’Or win is not a total surprise.
What I appreciate the most is that, for the most part, it’s a fun movie to watch. In the opening act, a group of male models contemplates the harsh reality that “your pay is a third of what female models earn.” We are then regaled with the fun fact that models are expected to exude an air of superiority when marketing luxury items but appear cheerful when promoting affordable products, an intriguing insight into the fashion industry’s subtle emotional manipulation.
It gets better in the second act when male model Carl and his girlfriend, Yaya — also a model — embark on the free trip, resulting in a White Lotus on a yacht. King of shit. Genteel landmine dealers. A polite lady fixated on the less-than-pristine condition of the supposed “sail” on a motorized boat. It’s wildly funny and incredibly satisfying: who doesn’t want to see the super-rich are not just greedy but also stupid?
The third act is the climax, for which the first two lay the foundation. It also has the most crucial plot twists, as everything is upended on a deserted island.
But the movie offers more than just entertainment. It delivers compelling messages about power, gender roles, and social hierarchy, and despite the occasional meandering of the narrative, it never loses sight of them.
The modeling industry has a hierarchy: female models earn more. The dating scene has a hierarchy: the man is expected to pick up the tab. The hierarchy on the yacht is even more obvious: there are the wealthy guests and those who serve them, not unlike the upstairs-downstairs divide of Downton Abbey.
Which is turned upside down on the island. Abigail, a former cleaning lady, armed with survival skills, becomes the de facto “captain.” Eventually, her authority extends to the ultimate prize of all power struggle: sex.
When she informs Carl, “Tonight, you can sleep in the boat,” referring to the lifeboat she single-handedly navigates to the island and retreats to at night, she shocks not only the characters but also the audience.
Social hierarchies are ubiquitous, from high school cliques to power dynamics in the workplace. In modern capitalist world, those with money reign from the top.
Therefore, the debate between the captain and the Russian oligarch about communism and capitalism doesn’t only provide comic relief. It illuminates the central theme.
On a deserted island, however, capitalism is temporarily suspended. Money can’t buy anything here. A Rolex watch is not as useful as the ability to make a fire.
This reversal is a thought experiment highlighting the artificial and fickle nature of hierarchies. It might serve to liberate us, to a degree, from our relentless obsession with status, or the crushing status anxiety.
The movie’s exploration of social hierarchy, though not groundbreaking, is rich and layered. For example, society needs a hierarchy to maintain order. Yet, hierarchy inevitably breeds corruption, as demonstrated in Abigail’s exploitation of Carl.
For another example, those occupying the top enjoy the greatest benefits and will inevitably go to great lengths to uphold it, as vividly portrayed in the somewhat mysterious ending.
For some viewers, the movie’s anti-capitalist bent may feel a bit trite, but its tone is skillfully measured. For two hours, it challenges us to question the validity of the structures that govern our lives, delivering its messages in a way that is both provocative and engaging.
