The Square movie review & film summary (2017)
Östlund has a particular stylistic strategy for creating and ratcheting up tension in his scenes. He establishes the parameters of a given exchange and then deliberately withholds reverse shots. A character will ask a question, and one expects the other character to answer, and instead, Östlund holds the shot. The character waits. The answer comes, but there’s no cutaway. In the scene in which Christian and Michael go to the housing project with their letters, Michael nervously waits in the car, and he’s approached by people on the street who knock on the windows, ask him about the car, and vaguely menace him. The camera never leaves the car, keeping Michael in anxious medium-close-up the whole time. This method is effective except when it’s not; then it’s just irritating.
If you are asking why Christian did not just report the stolen phone to the police, well, that’s interesting: the Sweden of this movie seems to have no police, or security guards, or doormen. When a performance art stunt at a gala dinner—the movie’s signature set piece, I suppose—goes horribly wrong on account of the artist’s unstoppable aggression, it’s up to the dinner guests to put a stop to it. Which of course they take an unconscionably long time to do, because, you know, Modern Life. Similarly, an irritated recipient of Christian’s letter, seeking payback, gets into Christian’s apartment building no problem, and creates large hassles therein.
Okay, then, if that’s the society Östlund envisions, that’s his privilege. Except the movie doesn’t even obey its internal logic. The museum’s snooty overboss, Elna, played by Swedish musician Marina Schiptjenko, is depicted in one scene as appalled by the “viral” video advertising for The Square exhibition; she’s worried about funding, among other things. In almost the very next scene she sits placidly and appreciatively while some of her benefactors are assaulted in the name of art.
The conceptual-fish-in-a-barrel potshots at contemporary art alternate with an ostensible critique of masculinity and privilege, building to a climax that endorses a compassion that’s mealy-mouthed and insufficient. For all the skill and polish on display, “The Square” is never anything beyond facile and pleased with itself.
It says something unsettling about the times that the Palme d’Or was awarded this year at Cannes to a work so flat-out reactionary.
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