There was a moment in Ruben Östlund’s new film Triangle of Sadness when I needed to get up and walk around. It felt as though everything I saw was slightly tilted. It certainly didn’t help that I had just got new glasses which I still needed to get used to. Walking away from the film for a minute or two was bizarre. I had the feeling that I was on board a ship. The floor in my flat became water that, because of a storm, began to get agitated. This impression didn’t . . .
Please register and become a member of The Arts of (Slow) Cinema or login to continue reading. Your contribution supports independent film criticism. Thank you!