The
Square **** ½ / *****
Directed
by: Ruben
Östlund.
Written
by: Ruben
Östlund.
Starring:
Claes
Bang (Christian), Elisabeth Moss (Anne), Dominic West (Julian), Terry Notary (Oleg),
Christopher Læssø (Michael).
If Jordan Peele’s Get Out had not
have come out this year, than Ruben Östlund’s The Square would be the year’s
most “uncomfortable” film to sit through – and I mean that in a good way.
Östlund’s point is to make us uncomfortable, to have us question our own ethics
and morals throughout the film, while at the same time, providing a ruthless –
and funny – satire of the contemporary art world. Östlund knows, of course,
that The Square is itself an “art film”, so he’s poking fun at himself – and
everyone in the audience watching as well. I’m not sure he has any real answers
to the questions he asks – nor does he want to – he just wants to prod you into
thinking about them. You likely already know if this film sounds like it would
appealing to you – and you’re almost definitely right about that. If you don’t
want that sort of experience, The Square would be excruciating to sit through –
especially since it rambles around for nearly two and half hours.
The film stars Claes Bang as
Christian – the head curator at a Stockholm museum of Modern Art – the type of
place where they have an exhibit that consists of piles of gravel on the floor
and a neon sign proclaiming “You Have Nothing” – but helpful guards who will
tell you you’re not allowed to take photos of it. The film opens with a scene
in which a reporter – Anne (Elisabeth Moss) interviews Christian about the
museum and its philosophy – particularly about a night in which they hosted a
talked about the difference between Exhibit and Non-Exhibit – and what art
“is”. Christian unhelpfully babbles on and on, without really saying anything in
a way that many do when talking about Modern Art – after all, you don’t want to
appear to be “pretentious” is discussing these lofty ideals, but you also don’t
want appear to be stupid and “not get it” either. This sets up the Christian we
will see for the rest of the movie – who time after time has reality interfere
with his lofty ideals, as he gets himself into more and more trouble.
It all starts on the streets when
he hears a woman calling out for help – but who he ignores, until he is pretty
much forced to react, because he’s physically pulled into the conflict by
another man, shielding the woman, from what we assume is an angry boyfriend.
After it’s all over, the two men congratulate themselves on a job well done –
neither one of them realizing the woman is gone, and Christian only realizing
later that his wallet, cellphone and cufflinks have been stolen. Instead of
just letting it go, Christian will end up tracking his phone to a large
apartment building – and it’s there where he really makes a mistake, that will
end up haunting him the rest of the movie, and getting him in deeper and deeper
trouble.
The film is largely episodic,
which each episode operating both as its own sort of moral quandary, comedic set
piece, and interestingly, a part of the larger overall picture. There are
things that are never explained – like Anne’s pet chimpanzee for instance, who
Christian sees one night when he’s over there, and we feel like he’s about to
ask Anne why she has a pet chimp – but then again, she’s clearly ready to have
sex, and he’s not going to stop that (the sex scene itself is funny, awkward,
unerotic, and completely honest – and is followed by an absurdly long
conversation about the condom that was used).
Basically the movie is about a
man who has lived his life largely compartmentalized – he places the different
aspects in his life in different boxes you could say – and throughout the
course of the film, those boxes start to be mixed together, and he cannot function.
The title of the movie comes from an upcoming exhibit at the museum, which is a
literal square where inside “We all share the same rights and obligations” – a
utopian idea that we all know what work in practice. There is a brilliant
sequence late in the film at the museum during a black tie dinner, where Oleg (Terry
Notary) a performance artist comes in and blurs the line between man and animal
– at first in amusing ways, and then gradually in ways that start to annoy, and
perhaps even endanger people. The sequence is perhaps a microcosm of the whole
movie – the social contract works because we all agree to it – but it can be
violated so easily, and then what are you supposed to do (and if you don’t
know, do you do anything).
All of this probably sounds like it’s
more a thought experiment than a movie – and there is certainly a danger that
could happen here. But it’s grounded by Bang’s remarkable performance as
Christian – who somehow keeps his character relatable – even charming –
throughout, even as he does worse and worse things (Moss has the key supporting
role – and she helps as well). The movie is also just outright funny. The film
won the Palme D’or at Cannes this year – an irony not lost on anyone, as this
film that wants to puncture the airless art world wins the biggest prize at the
most arty film festival there is. That only makes things more interesting – and
perhaps, proves its point.
