Indulging in the guilty pleasure of mocking the ultra-rich
National Review’s culture critic, Armond White, calls “Triangle of Sadness” an “an effete response to everything that has gone wrong in the world lately.” He blasts it for being “a secondrate allegory about third-world exploitation,” capping his review by calling director Ruben Östlund “a misanthrope and a fraud.”
Them’s fighting words by anyone’s measure, but they sound more like a hissy fit than an actual critique of the film. And critique it one can, particularly if you find a 10-minute-plus collective vomiting scene, well, unappetizing.
But “Triangle of Sadness,” like “White Lotus,” “Knives Out” and others of that ilk, mines the ageless dynamic of rich people exploiting those not rich, much in the way Mr. and Mrs. Thurston Howell III seek entitlement even while stranded on the eponymous Gilligan’s Island.
It’s not a new joke, though it is an enduringly witty one. We bash the rich because we’re not (or if we are, we say, “Oh, I’m not that kind of rich”).
Not every movie that features the rich acting entitled is a social critique. Not a real one, anyway. The question is, why not? And the answer is something like: We’d all be entitled (in our fantasy lives, at least) if we could. We’d all be “not that kind of rich,” even as we enjoyed the poolside sunning on the yacht, the stunning outfits, the flutes flowing with Champagne.
The HBO press release announcing season 1 of “White Lotus,” a series set at a luxury resort, describes it as “a week in the life of vacationers as they relax and rejuvenate in paradise. With each passing day, a darker complexity emerges in these picture-perfect travelers, the hotel’s cheerful employees, and the idyllic locale itself.”
As in “Triangle of Sadness,” everything must be done to keep the customer satisfied. The yacht’s chief steward, Paula, vociferously exhorts her crew, “I don’t wanna hear anybody saying ‘No.’ It’s always, ‘Yes, sir!’ ‘Yes, ma’am!’”
And in “Knives Out” — which also features a significant amount of vomiting — Daniel Craig ’s character, private detective Benoit Blanc, is hired to investigate the death of the filthy-rich mystery writer whose family stands poised to gain his wealth.
Sure, the characters in “Triangle of Sadness,” White Lotus” and “Knives Out” are despicable
enough. But that’s what makes them funny. And also —that’s what makes them appealing, in a guilty pleasure kind of way. Of course we hate them — because they are despicable. But we also kind of want what they have. At least a little bit.
In this way, we maintain a bit of moral high ground — “Rich people are entitled jerks” — while we also get to covet the crisply ironed shirts, the well-tended mansion grounds, the ocean views and the vintage Jaguars. Not that we would actually buy any of those things, of course.
None of these movies or TV shows would pack a narrative punch at all if one or more of the characters wasn’t downtrodden and exploited, guaranteeing that we will pull for them. And that’s what circles the square: knowing that the rich will get their comeuppance — a vomit riot in “Triangle of Sadness,” unanticipated financial ruin in “Knives Out” and tangled, toxic private lives in “White Lotus,” so yummily bursting with schadenfreude that it was renewed for a second and third season.
The National Review film critic may view “Triangle of Sadness” as a screed against wealth, a “Marxist class critique that is the European Left’s favorite solution to everything,” but maybe Armond White needs to lighten up a little. Maybe he should book a New York harbor-view weekend at the Ritz Carlton with a telescope in his room, Frette sheets on the bed, Baccarat Champagne flutes and a nice bottle of chilled Veuve Clicquot. That should do the trick.