“If you place an object in a museum does that make this object a piece of art?”
In the opening scene of Ruben Östlund’s Palme d’Or winning film, playboy protagonist-slash-contemporary art curator Christian, is being interviewed by American journalist, Anne. Deftly portrayed by Danish actor Claes Bang, opposite Elizabeth Moss (who has spent 2017 going from strength to strength) it doesn’t take long for the leading man’s smooth explanation of the contemporary art scene to border on mansplaining territory.
This moment sets up the premise for the film: Christian is a devastatingly handsome intellectual, with an ability to wax lyrical about the fine arts in multiple languages; in the weeks leading up to the opening of much-anticipated exhibition at the X-Royal Gallery, all eyes are on him; and as the saying goes, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. Immediately following the opening interview, the curator’s life is thrown into disarray by a clever street heist, causing him to become unhealthily obsessed with exacting revenge on the culprits. This inconvenience starts a domino effect in the life of the Christian where instead of gold, his Midas-touch turns everything to shit.
The titular exhibit itself is a 4 x 4 metre LED square, minimalist in design; in the eyes of the millennial marketing team of the X-Royal, this artwork houses the potential for a revolution in social altruism. The Square is described by its artist as “a sanctuary of trust and caring. Within it we all share equal rights and obligations.” A ticking time-bomb, the artwork itself is a well-placed Chekov’s gun. The theme of squares and galleries as framing devices throughout the film never feels heavy handed. Ostlund reminds us that we are living in a time where the social elite and all their faults are available to be publicly scrutinised 24/7 in increasingly public spheres.
It’s no mistake that the exact kind of people who could benefit from the platform of the impending exhibition, happen to be those who are denied financial and cultural access to museums and galleries. This concern is hammered home in a cringeworthy scene, featuring a cameo by Dominic West, where a man with Tourettes’ continually interrupts a gallery symposium with his ill-timed tics. A brilliant sound design makes the scene unbearable to watch as the aristocratic gallery-goers shift, sigh, and heckle a man with a disability for simply existing in a space that capitalises on social exclusion.
Östlund is clever in the peppering of representations of those who don’t-quite-fit-in to the category of ‘society’s elite’ to drive home his point. This is emphasised through juxtaposing space and character. For every sparsely-populated, pristine gallery space that contains a ‘high-concept’ work of art – there is a shot of a densely populated Stockholm street, bustling with the city’s at-risk, vulnerable, and homeless populous. The representation should be commended as it never veers into exploitation of the working and lower-classes, instead giving an omnipresence to the increasing schism between the ‘haves’ and ‘have-nots’. Fulfilling the function of the moral compass, these are characters who we do not see nearly enough of in this film, and on screen in general. In particular, one boy from a working-class family steals the show in the film’s third act.
Östlund’s writing brings to life characters with privilege whom in a split second we can oscillate between identifying with, and cringing at. While the audience never outright hate Christian, they refuse to feel sorry for him. In lieu of empathy, the film instead offers some delectably concocted moments of schadenfreude. A special mention deserves to be made of one particularly harrowing scene where an act of performance-art goes too far – even if the scene does drag on, we cannot look away.
Running at just over 2 hours and 30 minutes, with several dense plot lines, this film is at least 20 minutes too-long. But when every moment in a film is as entertaining and masterful as this one, it’s easy to see why more wasn’t left on the cutting room floor.
Östlund is truly an auteur, and he continues to tread the thin line of comedy and tragedy in a way that is innately human and watchable. Like Force Majeure before it, this is a film that examines the social construct of masculinity, classism, power and influence, and its framed with majesty through the utter absurdity of the contemporary arts scene. It’s easy to see why this film has received such high critical acclaim. The performances, pacing of the story, cinematography and design are all flawless and Scandinavian in aesthetic. The presentation of this film feels so polished and tidy, that it deserves to be hanging on a gallery wall for all to see.
Camilla Turnbull – On the Town.
