Hear Me Out: Ruben Östlund is the court jester of contemporary cinema
The taste for ‘eat the rich’ stories has increased tenfold over the past decade or so, during which the gulf in the economic disparity between the rich and poor has cracked ever wider. Whilst filmmakers such as Bong Joon-ho, Rian Johnson and Jordan Peele have been credited for this trend’s popularity, it is the satire of Swedish filmmaker Ruben Östlund that has attracted the most attention from delighted fans seeing upper classes pay for their futile opulence.
Though Östlund’s most recent Palme d’Or-winning super-rich satire, Triangle of Sadness, might be his most popularly revered, it is also merely the tip of his filmography, which has long been concerned with exposing the absurdity of everyday life. Picking apart the structures of modern reality, usually through the central focus of a heavily flawed male lead, Östlund is fascinated by the fragility of the human mind when faced with society’s most nuanced difficulties.
Such is consistent throughout his entire filmography, which stretches back to the start of the new century, releasing The Guitar Mongoloid in 2004 after a string of skiing short films. An anthology film that explored the ins and outs of contemporary Sweden, Östlund’s debut shared many similarities with his follow-up, 2008s Involuntary, a five-story anthology film that studied the psychology of group behaviour.
Consistently focusing on fragile, lost characters on the brink of a personal meltdown, the cinema of Östlund squirms with 21st-century angst. Pinpointing how an individual’s personality and morality can be interrogated by outside influences, such as how the protagonist’s pride is pulled into focus in 2014’s Force Majeure or how 2011’s Play sees characters moulded by the very actions of their peers, Östlund’s perception of the world around him is astute.
Such has been pulled even tighter into focus with his most recent duo of movies, 2017s The Square and 2022s Triangle of Sadness, which both deconstruct the powers of the wealthy patriarchy with agonising criticism. Östlund’s first, which won the Palme d’Or for its deconstruction of the stuffy artifice of the art world, highlighted the folly of art and performance, whilst, in a way, Triangle of Sadness was much the same, turning wealthy yacht guests into absurd pawns in the director’s excrement-loaded satire.
Juggling grand concepts, as well as intricate interpersonal tales, much of Östlund’s filmography follows characters trying to fight between their desires and socially-imposed expectations. “My films are about people trying to avoid losing face,” he tells The Guardian, with the meddling filmmaker acting as the Shakespearean fool, providing a script that strips naked the pretentious lead characters and unveils the truth beneath.
Delicately toeing the line between tragedy and farce, Östlund offers comedic respite from shocking drama and breaks down complex themes with elegant contemporary comparisons. Putting together compelling arguments for social change whilst entertaining his audience with comedic chaos, Östlund deconstructs the absurdity of the everyday piece by piece and questions the social order.
As an artistic disruptor and cinematic tyke, the cinema of Östlund is essential.
