The Playlist by Charles Bramesco
In the past, Östlund has shown a deft facility in sending up meaty topics, applying granular attention to male ego in “Force Majeure” and art-world pretensions with “The Square.” Here, however, he stoops to the broadness ascribed to his work by its harshest critics, now more parody of himself than parodist.
“Triangle of Sadness” seems like it wants to be a biting class satire, and then a survival film, and kind of ends of being neither.