Best Pictures #87: 2022 (95th) Academy Awards Best Picture Nominee: Triangle of Sadness

 by A.J.

Best Pictures #87: 2022 (95th) Academy Awards Best Picture Nominee

Triangle of Sadness

“Can you relax your triangle of sadness?”

This should be said upfront: Triangle of Sadness is not for everyone. This is not only because of a prolonged scene of people vomiting and defecating all over a pleasure yacht, but also because of its slow but deliberate pace, penchant for awkward, uncomfortable humor, and not too subtle themes. I’m no fan of cringe-inducing humor or heavy handed messaging, but here writer-director Ruben Östlund pulls off the same delicate, deft touch that Rod Serling achieved with his The Twilight Zone, successfully combining socio-political commentary with entertainment. 

Triangle of Sadness is divided into three chapters and it is impossible to talk about the movie without revealing a little bit of each chapter, so, very mild spoilers follow. In Chapter 1, titled Carl and Yaya, we meet male model Carl (Harris Dickinson) and his financially struggling influencer girlfriend Yaya (Charlbi Dean). They are vapid young people and aren’t poor but also aren’t mega-wealthy. Their issues and arguments might be the most relatable part of the movie. In chapter 2, The Yacht, we meet some of the mega-wealthy 1 percent including a very proper British couple who made their fortune from manufacturing landmines and hand grenades (U.N. regulations really cut into their land mine profits). They also meet Dimitry (Zlatko Buric), a loud mouthed Russian oligarch who proclaims himself to be the “king of shit” because he made his fortune selling fertilizer. In Chapter 3: The Island, after the yacht is struck by a storm and pirate attack, the survivors find themselves on an island where their whole social order is turned upside down since the only person with survival skills is Abigail (Dolly De Leon), the ship’s toilet cleaner. The quandary posed by the power inversion of Chapter 3 is the crux of the movie, so though it takes a while to get there, most of what comes before feels worthwhile. 

There is no doubt that Triangle of Sadness will be remembered as the movie with an extended sequence of the characters vomiting and defecating everywhere on a fancy yacht. Supposedly it took six months to edit this sequence. This might be the most jarring and grossest out of place sequence since the vomit heavy story Gordy tells to his friends in Stand By Me. 

One of the ultra wealthy passengers, in her “kindness,” insists that all the crew members should have fun and swim in the ocean. She is wealthy enough, and the captain cannot be bothered to intervene, so the crew swims which pushes the dinner back to coincide with a choppy storm that throws the boat around while the guests are served fine dining. The captain, not a fan of fine dining, eats a cheeseburger and fries. Characters projectile vomit as the ship loses power and the crew do their best to maintain a sense of ordered normality. As the waves throw the ship around we see one character slide around the vomit covered floor of her bathroom as she tries to catch the toilet. The Marxist, not communist, Captain (Woody Harrelson), and Dimitry have an amusing drunken debate broadcast over the PA system while toilets explode and rivers of shit spill down staircases. The heavy rock music accompanying the scene somehow makes this all easier to take and conveys the intended humor and absurdity. 

In spite of everything that happens in Triangle of Sadness, it is not dour or mean spirited. Every character is vapid on some level, including the oppressed Abigail, but none are especially or intentionally cruel. Everyone is limited by their own limited experiences, and when confronted with a new scenario in Chapter 3 becomes overwhelmed. The brilliance of Triangle of Sadness is that it resists the temptation to turn into a Tales From the Crypt episode or slasher movie in which you watch, and enjoy, terrible people getting their karmic comeuppance. Östlund constructs a conundrum based on everything you’ve seen and then poses a question to the viewer. This means that, yes, there is an ambiguous ending–another reason this movie is not for everyone.

Triangle of Sadness, a reference to the area between the eyebrows and down to the nose, is ultimately a fine dark, off-kilter comedy and social commentary. This is not an out-and-out comedy though many scenes and situations are quite humorous. Östlund plays out several scenes in wide shots leaving us to fill in the detail, making the viewer as an observer rather than a participant. That none of the characters are especially likable or unlikeable makes this more complex than just a morality play. Östlund’s Oscar nominations for Original Screenplay and Best Director are unconventional but well earned. Winner of the Cannes Film Festival’s prestigious Palme d’Or award, Triangle of Sadness is a most atypical Best Picture nominee.  

Nominees: Erik Hemmendorff, Philippe Bober, producers

Director: Ruben Östlund

Screenplay: Ruben Östlund

Cast: Harris Dickinson, Charlbi Dean, Dolly de Leon, Zlatko Burić, Woody Harrelson

Production Companies: Imperative Entertainment, Film i Väst, BBC Film, et al.

Distributor: Neon

Release Date: October 7th, 2022

Total Nominations: 3, including Best Picture

Other Nominations: Director-Ruben Östlund; Original Screenplay-Ruben Östlund

Best Pictures #86: 2022 (95th) Academy Awards Best Picture Nominee TÁR

 by A.J.

Best Pictures #86: 2022 (95th) Academy Awards Best Picture Nominee

TÁR

“It is always the question that involves the listener, never the answer.”

Tár is a peculiar and very interesting film until it becomes a strange film for no real reason at all. If it fully committed to becoming a psychological thriller or cerebral drama or even a full blown surreal art film instead of only toying with these elements, then maybe it would be an overall more satisfying experience. As it is, Tár is two-thirds interesting and captivating character study and one third pseudo-cerebral art film that rests entirely on the shoulders of a great performance.

Cate Blanchett stars as Lydia Tár, a most distinguished and accomplished classical music conductor. In addition to being the current conductor of the Berlin Symphony Orchestra, she is also an “EGOT”, winner of an Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, and Tony award. She enjoys the power and authority her accomplishments and notoriety provide and is in the middle of preparing for an ambitious performance of Mahler’s 5th symphony when her world comes undone. The suicide of a former student and protégé brings accusations that Tár engaged in inappropriate relations with her protégés, and inflicted severe repercussions on those who did not accept her advances. We never see any explicit scenes of Tár sexually exploiting a female musician but we get glimpses at her lascivious side when she finds a way around the blind audition process to hire Olga, a young female cellist she finds attractive, played by real life cellist Sophie Kauer. Soon after, Tár holds a second sham audition to give Olga a solo, meaning they will have to spend more time alone together.

That Lydia Tár's authority and power come from success in the arts opens the film up to being part of the greater conversation and reckoning society is currently having about artists and abusive behavior. Yet writer-director Todd Field withholds any chastising or pontificating. By keeping the focus on Lydia Tár his film is not just about “cancel culture” or the Me Too movement but has sparked many different conversations on its larger themes as well as its cinematic aspects. 

Blanchett’s performance holds the film together even in its odd third act. Lydia Tár is not a pleasant or sympathetic character but she is an interesting character and that is what keeps us engaged. Supposedly Field wrote the part for Blanchett and that is just as well because I doubt it would work with anyone else. No matter the tone of the scene, Blanchett brings the material to its full potential. Her monologues and lectures about composers and music are wonderfully delivered and belie an insecurity just below the surface. Field earned an Oscar nomination for his original screenplay and this in no small part thanks to Blanchett, also Oscar nominated for her performance. 

Perhaps the most skillful thing about Blanchett’s performance, the sign that she truly is a great actress, is that as strong as her performance is, and as overwhelming as her character is, she does not overwhelm the other other performers. Nina Hoss, as Sharon, Tár’s long suffering but loyal partner is great as a counterbalance; her character feels like an average person putting up with things she shouldn’t have to. Noémie Merlant, as Francesca, Tár's long suffering and long taken for granted assistant gives a subtle performance that portrays someone reaching the end of what she can endure. 

Like any number of classical compositions, Tár begins slowly and calmly, then builds gradually, hinting at what is to come, until it finally reaches a pitched climax. The final act of the film certainly packs in more than the first two thirds, but this is also where it falls apart. Throughout the film there are strange occurrences: a metronome in a closed cabinet running on its own in the middle of the night, a book of notes disappearing, Tár hearing the unplaceable screams of a woman in a park. These seem to hint at the potential for the supernatural or, at least, the unreliability of Tár’s perception of reality. The most surreal and uncanny scene of all, even more surreal than the actual dream sequence, happens when Tár follows Olga into an out of place abandoned building. If it were to be revealed that everything after this point is a hallucination or dream, I’d believe it—though I don’t mean to say that this is my theory of the film. After this scene it felt less like I was watching a character study and more like I was watching a soft imitation of David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive or Bergman’s Hour of the Wolf. The movie's most memorable moment is so over the top I wonder if it really happened. Despite its moments of strangeness and mysterious touches, Tár does not present itself as a film set in a questionable reality, yet that is where the movie goes and these elements, instead of creating intrigue, feel like nagging loose strings that draw attention away from Blanchett’s performance.

Nominees: Todd Field, Alexandra Milchan, Scott Lambert, producers

Director: Todd Field

Screenplay: Todd Field

Cast: Cate Blanchett, Noémie Merlant, Nina Hoss, Mark Strong

Production Companies: Standard Film Company, EMJAG Productions

Distributor: Focus Features

Release Date: October 7th, 2022

Total Nominations: 6, including Best Picture

Other Nominations: Actress-Cate Blanchett; Director-Todd Field; Original Screenplay-Todd Field; Cinematography-Florian Hoffmeister; Editing-Monika Willi

13 Nights of Shocktober: Santa Sangre

 by A.J.

This is my favorite time of year, second only to Christmas. Autumn has arrived, the weather is cooling down, and October becomes the month-long celebration of scary movies called Shocktober. So, in the days leading up Halloween I’ll be posting some horror movie recommendations to help you celebrate Shocktober.

Night 10: Surreal Horror Night “My hands…my hands.”

Santa Sangre

It is hard for me to articulate why the films of avant-garde director Alejandro Jodorowsky fascinate and captivate me so much even though many of their defining traits are things that frustrate me in other art films. His films are strange and surreal, heavy on symbolism, magical realism, and absurd and grotesque but striking imagery. They are not subtle about their themes or symbols or attitudes towards politics, or religion, or society in general and aim to challenge artistic and filmmaking conventions. They are also filled with tenderness and sincerity. His films can be described as challenging, but Jodorowsky only means to challenge to audience only up to a point. It feels like his real intention is to change the way we view movies, art, and the wider world so that we can challenge those things together. There is no pretention or condescension in his films, only a welcoming invitation to a new experience and a new perspective. This is especially true of Santa Sangre, one of the strangest and most compassionate films I have seen.

Santa Sangre isn’t exactly a horror film, but it isn’t exactly any other kind of film either. There is violence, drama, humor, cruel characters, bizarre scenes, psychological horror, even elements of a slasher film, but also many moments of great emotion and sympathy. All of this is put together and handled so delicately that it feels like a magic trick.

The film opens with image of a nude man posed like bird on an oversized perch in a mental institution. In an extended flashback we see Fenix's traumatic childhood in a circus where he was the boy magician. His mother, Concha (Blanca Guerra), was the trapeze artist and also the leader of a religious sect that worships a saint whose arms were cut off by her rapists. His father, Orgo (Guy Stockwell), was the circus owner and knife thrower. He is crude, excessively macho, and having an affair with the tattooed woman, who is the mother of Fenix’s mute friend, Alma. One night Concha discovers Orgo's affair and throws acid on Orgo's genitals. He cuts off her arms and then cuts his own throat. Somehow, despite all of that, the most traumatic moment of that horrible night is the tattooed woman driving away with Alma in the backseat, her face against the window looking back at Fenix.  They watch each other being separated in a heartbreaking exchange.

When Fenix, now an adult, is beckoned by his mother, he escapes from the mental institution. Hiding behind her, he acts as her arms and hands in a stage show and also in their private moments. In these scenes the actors have so well-choreographed their movements that Concha really does seem to be controlling his hands and Fenix seems to know beforehand what Concha wants to do. Concha’s control over Fenix is domineering and somewhat mystical. Through controlling him psychologically she controls him physically, and this is how she exacts her revenge.

The first slashing is, like many things in this movie, a paradox: it is gruesome but also hokey. The victim stands behind a sheer curtain and a knife wielding hand stabbing in a cliched, mechanical motion. Bodies pile up, but unlike a slasher movie, the kill scenes are not the crux of the movie. Concha’s desire for complete control over her son results in any other woman being a threat. The slashings are a result of the horror and trauma Fenix has suffered and continues to suffer, so he is able to draw our sympathy even though he is also a murderer.  

This is a movie where a funeral march through town square for an elephant that ends with the elephant corpse being thrown into a canyon were residents of a shantytown cut it up for food is a footnote to the actual plot. Fenix paints the body of a victim white and buries her in a grave that glows and a bird rises out. A scene of a group of patients from the institution being taken to a red-light district with drugs and sex workers actually turns out alright. A large, muscular trans-woman wrestler turns out to be a gentle soul. Every scene contains something unexpected.

Santa Sangre was written by Jodorowsky, Robero Leoni, and Claudio Argento (brother of Italian filmmaker Dario Argento). I suppose this is technically a slasher movie, but it is a slasher movie as only Jodorowsky could make. It doesn’t feel like a traditional horror movie because of its emphasis on emotion and sympathy for its main character. Adult Fenix is played by Axel Jodorowsky, Alejandro’s son, and he does an amazing job playing a tortured, conflicted character. He is a gentle soul and you want desperately for him to be treated as such and be freed from his trauma. There are horror movies that have strong characters, likeable characters, characters you root and cheer for, but I don’t think there is another horror film that loves its main character as much as Santa Sangre loves Fenix, and that love is contagious.    

So why recommend Santa Sangre for Shocktober if it is not exactly horror movie? Well, if this movie is a magic trick, then I guess I want other people to see the trick. Santa Sangre is a dark fairy tale. No matter how bizarre or surreal, we accept the sights we see because they serve something more that just the images. Fairy tales use harsh situations and grim scenarios to teach a simple lesson or moral. So too does Santa Sangre use its garish, striking, but always memorable imagery and scenarios to convey something so simple we can only accept it if it is wrapped up in fantasy. At the climax there is a reveal that may not be a surprise but it is not meant to be. It is a revelation for Fenix and as such is deeply satisfying. It’s the moment we’ve been waiting for. What a unique character study. What a gentle and loving movie. The world is cruel and there are cruel people but kindness and love can still exist and we need not be cruel to ourselves; that only leads back to cruelty to others. This is a beautiful film, a reaction I’ve had only a handful of times.