The triangle of sadness is a wrinkle between the eyebrows and in the beauty industry, and is rather undesirable when it becomes noticeable. So Botox intervenes to “correct” nature for the sake of … Indeed, for whom? Swedish director Ruben Östlund (who was awarded the Palme d’Or at Cannes for the second time after 2017 and The Square) invites us to stop and think for a while. He does this at a brisk pace in the first two parts of his film. In the first, he introduces his characters, Yaya and Carl, two famous models living in a fashion world where “cynicism masquerades as optimism.” Can they coexist as a couple? The scene in the restaurant with the bill seems so surreal that it could be completely real. And this is the peculiarity of Östlund’s films. Events seem extreme because his lens focuses—zooming in with the insistence of a collector/observer—on moments and images that we perceive as “normal.” In the second part, Karl and Yaya board a luxury yacht (the legendary Christina Onassis) with a group of immensely wealthy passengers: a Russian oligarch and his entourage, an elderly British couple, arms dealers, etc. .ok At first, everything looks idyllic for wrinkle-free Instagram posts . The dazzling landscape of Evia (Chiliadou), where the film was filmed, also helps. Faces, of course, are constantly illuminated by the screen of their mobile phone. Up to a storm, the resulting nausea and violent vomiting turn the dream into a nightmare, culminating in a shipwreck. On the island where the shipwrecks end up, only the cleaner who knows how to fish survives… Confident (?) superiority in wealth develops into a thriller. Although fueled by sarcasm, Östlund’s social commentary is inventive, breaks stereotypes, and successfully handles the excesses that go hand in hand with ridiculousness. But when he “commits” to show the other side through the spread, he flattens out, conveying embarrassment with hasty balancing. In the third part (“The Island”) the film loses rhythm and fun.

Triangle of Sorrow hits theaters Sunday, September 18th.
MARIA KATSUNAKI

The man with the answers ★★
DRAMA (2021)
Directed by: Stelios Kammitsis
Interpretations: Vassilis Maguliotis, Anton Weil

Stelios Kammitsis (Colopeda) is a fairly typical street movie, with its own strengths and weaknesses. The protagonist here is originally a young Victor, a former diving champion we see, after the death of his grandmother, leading a ship to Italy. There, he meets the slightly older Matthias, a rather reckless German who stays by his side as the two of them go on a trip to Bavaria. On a long journey and through various adventures, hidden secrets and desires come to the surface.

Cammitsis directs one of those idyllic road trips where the protagonists decide to take a “scenic” route, away from boring highways and straight into the charming Italian (mostly) countryside. The journey is both external and internal for them, especially for Victor, who hardly opens up to new challenges. The film’s cinematography is indeed beautiful, almost postcard-like, but the dramaturgy remains too predictable and familiar from countless other films in the genre.

The successful horror film of 2009 is getting a second part, or rather a prequel, since it is she who tells us the beginning of Esther’s story. Here we see a famous young girl imprisoned in some kind of psychiatric prison in icy Estonia. However, this doesn’t last long as Esther takes a shortcut (and sheds a lot of blood) to freedom and ends up in America, where she manages to trick the missing child’s family into taking his place. When a scam is exposed, of course, things get dangerous. Special effects and make-up allow 25-year-old Isabelle Ferman to play a 12-year-old child in a film that contains some unexpected events but also a strong “adversary” in Yulia’s mother. Stiles. Otherwise, of course, there is nothing particularly original or inspired in terms of horror cinema, either in terms of script or in terms of cinematography.

One of Louis Malle’s two or three best films, awarded the Golden Lion of Venice, hits theaters this week in a restored digital copy. The French director signs here a script based on his personal memories of a Catholic boarding school he attended during the German occupation. In the film, we are also in such an institution, where the strict but loving father, Jean, tries to protect the boys from the dangers of war. At the same time, risking his life, he hides three young Jewish children. Mal creates a deeply tender film about childlike innocence, but also about the horrors of war, introducing a few more second-tier themes, such as the “difficulty” of working with a conqueror. All this is shrouded in a veil of simplicity, which, however, further enhances the ease of the viewer’s emotions.
Emilios Harbis