Triangle of Sadness

I am intrigued by the fact that certain films find a place in my heart, and my appreciation for them grows as time goes by.  In some cases, I may only see a film once, but I remember it fondly.  In other cases there are films that I have seen so many times that I have lost count; I gravitate towards the ones that I know to be good.  I think that a similar thing happens to me when I've seen a particularly unpleasant film; the further I move away from its initial enticement, the more I am able to recognize just how vacant the experience was.  It's this kind of film that I want to stay away from.  If at all possible I want forget the experience, keeping just the faintest reminder as a warning to avoid the next one. 

Triangle of Sadness fully embraces its unpleasantness, so much so that there are times at which it legitimately feels like the filmmakers were engaged in some sort of contest to see whether they could break the viewer's spirit.  In an early scene we are introduced to the couple who are at the center of the film, models who are together because their joint Instagram account is doing better than either of them could do on their own.  It is clear that they are both shallow people, but it is also clear that they both have feelings, and have at least a basic understanding of what a healthy relationship should be.  The director, Ruben Östlund is like an antagonistic father, pushing down on one end of the see-saw while his helpless child experiences alternating sensations of fear, and relief, as she goes suddenly down, and then gently back up, over and over again.  Each of the characters in this film is reprehensible, everyone is guilty of something, but at certain times each reveals a glimmer of something good.  For example, in the scene where we are introduced to the two models they reveal their selfish motives and deep-rooted feelings of inadequacy as they squabble about who should have paid for the meal, but beneath the surface it seems like the male model may actually care about his female companion.  Östlund is able to convey this hint of humanity through unspoken communication, it's only with certain looks and glances to we begin to suspect that the relationship may be deeper than it appears on the surface.  If I can say anything good about the film, it is that I like that the final scene answers this question once and for all.  Aside from its bittersweet closing scene, I  have concluded that Triangle of Sadness is unnecessarily unpleasant.  I wouldn't go so far as to say that I regret watching the film, but I would almost say that.  Östlund was clearly trying to tell cautionary tale condemning materialism, capitalism, social media, corporations, white people, etc.  He tried to craft an allegory, in which certain extreme examples would convict the audience of the "isms" and biases that they've adopted unwittingly.  Unfortunately, Östlund's allegory is more like a baseball bat to the head (or perhaps some other blunt object that's close at hand), and instead of feeling convicted, the audience feels abused.  Boon Joon Ho's Parasite from 2019 was similarly cruel, and just as subtle - and I didn't like that film either.