Triangle of Sadness movie review: There are rivers of vomit in this class satire, but it’s all a bit pointless
The IndependentGet our free weekly email for all the latest cinematic news from our film critic Clarisse Loughrey Get our The Life Cinematic email for free Get our The Life Cinematic email for free SIGN UP I would like to be emailed about offers, events and updates from The Independent. This year’s Palme d’Or winner, Triangle of Sadness, is a class satire atop a river of vomit and faeces. Writer-director Ruben Östlund’s modus operandi is, in short, to state familiar truths in the silliest, basest, and most confrontational of ways. The targeted ideals of Östlund’s previous films, such as Force Majeure’s male fragility and The Square’s art-world pretension, felt specific and well-honed. If so, it doesn’t feel like he’s risen that much above Captain Smith, trading shallow barbs with the same elite he’s happy to coddle.