There is nothing subtle in “Triangle of Sadness,” Swedish filmmaker Ruben Östlund’s over-the-top tale of hypocrisy, greed, and ambition, now playing in theatres.
Divided into three sections, it begins with an examination of the dynamic between men and women, in the form of supermodels Carl (Harris Dickinson) and Yaya (Charlbi Dean, who passed away at age 32 in August). At dinner they fight over the bill when she makes no effort to pony up cash, even though she makes much more money than he does. In their superficial world, the real currencies are good looks and social media followers, she thinks, but he feels if they are to truly be equals, they mustn’t let money come between them, with one lording their wealth over the other.
The second, must-be-seen-to-be-believed, sequence is social satire of the highest and grisliest order. Set aboard a luxury yacht, Carl and Yaya, invited because they are well-known, beautiful people, are joined by a rogue’s gallery of ultra-rich folks used to flaunting their privilege. “The success of a luxury cruise mainly depends on you,” says staff leader Paula (Vicki Berlin) to her team. “I don’t want to hear anybody saying, ‘No.’ It’s always, ‘Yes sir! Yes ma’am!’”
At the helm is Captain Thomas Smith (Woody Harrelson), a drunken American communist, who deliberately schedules the fancy Captain’s Dinner during a patch of very rough weather. As the waves rock the ship, the motion of the ocean coupled with some spoiled seafood, lead to mass sea sickness, and a ballet of bodily fluids.
Both sections dovetail into an apocalyptic third sequence that examines social hierarchies, and what can happen when the powerless get a taste of control.
There is nothing subtle in this over-the-top tale of ambition, power and entitlement. The social satire is as delicate as a punch to the jaw and is not for the faint of heart, but not simply because the satire cuts so deep.
The middle section, the captain’s dinner sequence, turns into a burlesque of barf so vivid it makes the Mr. Creosote sequence from “Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life” seem restrained. Rarely have bodily fluids been so celebrated on screen. It’s a lot, and its message that these wealthy folks are messy, gross humans, is not subtle, but you have to admire Östlund’s commitment to the bit.
Heavy handed as it may be, “Triangle of Sadness” is a singular film. An audacious mix of Luis Buñuel and “South Park,” although often grotesque, it entertains and provokes thought.
“Not Okay,” a new clickbaity satire starring Zoey Deutch and now streaming on Disney+, sets up an extraordinary situation to comment on an all too ordinary social media phenomenon.
Deutch is aspiring writer Danni Sanders. Her photo editor job at the Buzzfeed-esque website Depravity has yet to help her advance to writer status, as her story pitches fall on deaf ears. Aimless, with no friends, she is desperate to catch the eye of Colin (Dylan O’Brien), the coolest guy in the office, even if he is constantly enveloped in a Vape cloud.
She’s invisible, even on social media.
“Have you ever wanted to be noticed so badly,” she says, “you didn’t even care what it was for? You wake up every day thinking, ‘I want to be seen. I want to be important. I want to have purpose. I want to be known. I want to be loved. I want to matter.’”
To find meaning, purpose and maybe get a few extra followers on social media, she concocts a goofy plan to post faked photos from an imaginary Paris trip to glam up her Instagram account. She photoshops herself in front of the Arc de Triomphe, creates a backstory about being invited to a writer’s retreat in the City of Lights and writes captions like, “Starting my morning right. Now where is my baguette?”
But then real-life tragedy strikes in the form of terror attacks around Paris and all of a sudden, Danni goes from zero to hero. Her account is flooded with comments. “I can’t believe you posted that photograph five minutes before the bombs hit,” writes a concerned follower. “I mean, what if it had been five minutes later? Could you even imagine?”
Danni enjoys the attention, and goes with the flow. She “returns” to the United States and her job as a “survivor,” with a new confident attitude and faux PTSD. As her online fame grows, she befriends school-shooting survivor Rowan (Mia Isaac), leeching off the activist’s popularity. Even Colin now finds her the most interesting person in the room.
Her dreams come true, but, she says, “be careful what you wish for,” as her lies spirals out of control.
“Not Okay” is a social satire that takes aim at the curated life of Instagram influencers and the dark side of the artificial fame of an on-line life. The attention starved user who fabricates a story for money or notoriety, is a ripped-from-the-headlines premise, one that frequently plays itself out in one way or another on social media, but it lays the foundation for the character work done by Deutch and Isaac.
Deutch doesn’t make Danni sympathetic, but somehow makes her actions understandable. Through the performance it is easy to see how this lonely, directionless young woman got caught up in the lust for acknowledgement. The story may be shallow but Deutch’s performance reveals layers.
Contrasting Danni’s wanton ambition is Rowan’s heartfelt crusade for awareness. As a school shooting survivor Rowan is a combustible combination of trauma and anger, and Isaac embodies the earnestness and fear that comes with that lived experience.
“Not Okay” isn’t as hard hitting as it thinks it is. As a breezy look at the social media manipulation it treads familiar ground, but its ingrained sense of humor and performances make it worth a look.
