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Five years after The Square, a caustic critique from the world of modern art, Ruben Östlund took away his second Palme d’Or from Cannes, along with a reputation as the filmmaker behind the wittiest film of this year’s competition. The tale of the young couple Carl and Yaya begins in the world of modelling, then we move to a luxury cruise ship. The super-rich are a rewarding target, while a satire which treats them in an artful manner is all the rarer. “I sell shit,” shouts one of the eccentric passengers, a jovial Russian oligarch, who made his fortune shifting fertiliser. Will the fierce storm which tosses the waves and the contents of their bloated stomachs liberate the moneyed passengers from the futility of their lives? Or will Östlund’s characters again behave like animals even in this extreme situation?
Five years after The Square, a caustic critique from the world of modern art, Ruben Östlund took away his second Palme d’Or from Cannes, along with a reputation as the filmmaker behind the wittiest film of this year’s competition. The tale of the young couple Carl and Yaya begins in the world of modelling, then we move to a luxury cruise ship. The super-rich are a rewarding target, while a satire which treats them in an artful manner is all the rarer. “I sell shit,” shouts one of the eccentric passengers, a jovial Russian oligarch, who made his fortune shifting fertiliser. Will the fierce storm which tosses the waves and the contents of their bloated stomachs liberate the moneyed passengers from the futility of their lives? Or will Östlund’s characters again behave like animals even in this extreme situation?