Triangle of Sadness: Seven Perspectives

I found the movie Triangle of Sadness to be a commentary on power dynamics. Whoever holds the power will leverage it for both material gains, but also for status-gain. In the case of this movie, status has a social cost…it makes others feel subservient, trivialized, unworthly, and lacking value other than to serve and want the status they don’t have. In part one the status is held by those hiring the models, in part two it’s held by the wealthy who can afford the luxury cruise, and in part three it’s held by the person with survival skills. This was about as deep as my shallow mind could go on the social commentary of the movie. So to go a littler deeper I asked ChatGPT to give a commentary on and analysis of the film from the perspective of seven specific cultural theorists. Here’s what it gave for each…

Baudrillard on Triangle of Sadness: One Simulation Leads to Another

Jean Baudrillard, the French philosopher known for his theories on hyperreality, simulacra, and the critique of late capitalism, would likely have a fascinating take on Triangle of Sadness. His analysis would focus on how the film portrays the illusion of wealth, the collapse of symbolic power, and the absurdity of capitalist structures when removed from their artificial context.

1. Hyperreality and the Illusion of Wealth
   Baudrillard would argue that the ultra-rich characters in Triangle of Sadness exist in a hyperreal world—a system of signs where money and luxury function not as real material advantages, but as symbols of power divorced from any intrinsic value. The influencers, the oligarchs, and the arms dealers perform wealth rather than inhabit it in any substantive way. Their existence is built on simulacra, where wealth is no longer tied to labor or necessity but is instead a self-referential sign of status.
   • The cruise, which is supposed to represent the pinnacle of luxury, descends into chaos when real conditions (storm, seasickness) disrupt the illusion. The vomiting scene, in particular, is Baudrillard’s breakdown of the simulacrum—when the pristine, polished image of luxury is destroyed by the raw, grotesque reality of the body.
2. The Breakdown of Capitalist Simulation
   The deserted island scenario is where Baudrillard would likely see the true failure of capitalism’s simulation. The passengers, who previously held immense wealth and power, suddenly find their status meaningless when the economic and social constructs that upheld them disappear.
   • Abigail, the cleaning lady turned island leader, is a reversal of power dynamics that reveals capitalism’s fragile reliance on constructed authority rather than actual skill or necessity.
   • The island does not function as a “return to reality” but instead creates a new simulation—one where power is restructured in an artificial and equally unstable way. Just as wealth was an illusion on the ship, leadership on the island is arbitrarily assigned based on survival skills rather than inherent virtue.
3. Consumerism and the Spectacle of Social Media
   The influencers, Carl and Yaya, embody Baudrillard’s concept of the precession of simulacra, where representation becomes reality. Their entire existence is based on the curation of an image, not on any real, tangible labor.
   • Yaya, who is famous for being famous, is not a real “model” in the traditional sense but rather a simulation of beauty and success that exists purely through online validation.
   • Baudrillard would argue that their relationship is not even a real romance but a performance, dictated by the rules of online aesthetics and brand partnerships. Their love is a simulation of intimacy rather than an actual emotional connection.
4. The Absurdity of Ideology: Marxist Captain vs. Capitalist Passengers
   Woody Harrelson’s captain, a drunken Marxist spouting leftist theory while indulging in the luxuries of the wealthy, is a perfect Baudrillardian contradiction. He represents the way ideology itself has been hollowed out and turned into another layer of the simulation—where even anti-capitalist rhetoric is just another aesthetic choice rather than a meaningful opposition.
   • • • The absurd scene where he and the Russian oligarch debate capitalism vs. socialism over a loudspeaker while the ship sinks is exactly the kind of hollow ideological theater Baudrillard would critique.
       • Capitalism and socialism, in this film, are both empty spectacles, neither able to change the material reality of the characters’ fates.

Baudrillard’s final take…The ending of Triangle of Sadness, where Abigail potentially kills Yaya to maintain her fragile power, suggests that the cycle of power, simulation, and illusion simply resets rather than breaks.

Slavoj Žižek on Triangle of Sadness: A critique with no solution

Slavoj Žižek, the Slovenian philosopher and cultural critic, would likely have a dialectical take on Triangle of Sadness, seeing it as both a critique of capitalism and an example of how modern cinema fails to provide any real alternative to it. His analysis would focus on ideology, class struggle, and the failure of revolution, while also pointing out the film’s own ideological limitations. Here’s how Žižek might interpret it:

1. The Vomit Scene as the Truth of Capitalism
Žižek often points out how ideology is sustained by fantasy and repression—we enjoy capitalism only as long as we ignore its grotesque underbelly. The film’s extended sequence of mass vomiting and excrement on the luxury yacht would be, for Žižek, a perfect metaphor for the “real” of capitalism:

• • • The ultra-rich characters consume absurd amounts of luxury, but this excess literally erupts in a chaotic, bodily explosion, exposing the system’s fundamental obscenity.
    • Žižek would argue that capitalism sustains itself through the illusion of order and refinement, but underneath, it is nothing more than a cycle of consumption and waste.
    • This scene forces the audience to confront the “hidden truth” of wealth, making it a classic Žižekian moment: the point where the veil of ideology is lifted, and we are forced to see the obscene enjoyment that drives the system.

2. The Island as a Failed Revolutionary Moment
The film’s third act, where the rich and powerful lose their status on the deserted island, might at first appear to fulfill a Marxist fantasy of class reversal—the underclass, represented by Abigail, finally takes power. But Žižek would see this as a false revolution because:

• • • The new social order replicates the old one, just in a different form. Abigail, rather than creating a genuinely egalitarian system, hoards power for herself, treating the former elites as her servants.
    • This, Žižek would say, mirrors historical revolutions, where the oppressed overthrow the ruling class, only to reproduce the same hierarchical structures (think: the Soviet Union replicating state oppression).
    • The film shows that even when capitalism is stripped away, hierarchy and power struggles persist, because we lack a true alternative—this is why Žižek often says that we can imagine the end of the world more easily than the end of capitalism.

3. The Marxist Captain: The Failure of Leftist Ideology
Woody Harrelson’s character, the ship’s Marxist-leaning, drunk captain, would be of particular interest to Žižek. He would argue that this character represents the impotence of contemporary leftist politics:

• • • The captain is a self-proclaimed socialist but is completely integrated into the luxury world he claims to despise. He enjoys the yacht’s wealth while reading Noam Chomsky and drunkenly debating Marxism with a Russian capitalist.
    • Žižek would say this mirrors the modern intellectual left, which is often more focused on ironic critique than real action.
    • The captain’s debates with the Russian capitalist aren’t about changing the system—they are a form of enjoyment, a meaningless ideological game where both sides indulge in their beliefs while the ship (literally) sinks.

In this sense, Žižek would argue that the film criticizes capitalism but also shows the failure of leftist resistance, making it a deeply cynical, almost nihilistic piece of political satire.

4. The Final Scene: The Return of Ideology
The ending, where Abigail possibly kills Yaya to maintain her fragile power, is a Žižekian moment because it reveals the return of ideology in its most brutal form.

• • • Yaya, the Instagram influencer, naïvely believes that they can return to civilization and restore the old order—but Abigail, now in power, knows better.
    • For Žižek, this mirrors how ideology never truly disappears—even when we think we have dismantled the old system, we remain trapped in its logic.
    • The film ultimately suggests that power is not about money or class but about maintaining domination itself—and this, for Žižek, is why revolutions often fail.

Žižek’s Final Take: A Cynical Critique Without an Alternative…In short, Žižek would admire the film’s sharp critique but also see it as a symptom of our inability to think beyond the system it satirizes.

Michel Foucault on The Triangle of Sadness – Power Without Liberation

Michel Foucault, known for his work on power, discipline, biopolitics, and the relationship between knowledge and social control, would interpret Triangle of Sadness as a film that reveals the contingent and constructed nature of power—showing how hierarchies shift depending on context and how social roles are not inherent but enforced through systems of control.

1. Power as a Fluid, Context-Dependent Force
One of Foucault’s main ideas is that power is not something people “have,” but something that circulates and operates through relationships, institutions, and discourses. In Triangle of Sadness, power is completely detached from personal virtue or ability—it shifts based on circumstances rather than intrinsic qualities.

• • • On the yacht, power is structured through wealth and class: the oligarch, the arms dealers, and the influencers dictate the social order. The crew members (including Abigail, the cleaner) are disciplined into submission, following strict rituals of servitude that reflect Foucault’s ideas about disciplinary institutions (similar to how prisons, schools, and hospitals create “docile bodies”).
    • But once they crash on the island, the entire structure collapses. The wealthy lose their symbolic power because their economic capital no longer functions in a survivalist context. The new dominant figure, Abigail, gains power not through wealth, but through her survival skills (the ability to catch fish, build fires, and distribute resources).
    • Foucault would argue that this proves power is relational and situational, not fixed or natural—there is no “true” hierarchy, only enforced structures that are justified through discourse.

2. Biopower and the Management of Life
Foucault’s concept of biopower—how states and institutions regulate people’s bodies, behaviors, and existence—fits well with the movie’s themes.

• • • On the yacht, biopower is subtle but ever-present. The workers are expected to perform servitude cheerfully, showing how capitalism turns the body into a tool of labor and control.
    • The influencers, Carl and Yaya, are perfect products of biopower: their existence revolves around curating an image of desirability, turning their bodies into commodities for Instagram. Their relationship is more of a performance for capitalism than a personal bond, revealing how power shapes even the most intimate human interactions.
    • On the island, the management of life shifts—power is now about who controls resources like food and shelter. Abigail dictates who eats and who starves, controlling the biological existence of others. Foucault would see this as an example of how sovereignty emerges through the control of life and death.

3. Disciplinary Mechanisms and the Formation of Subjectivity
Foucault was deeply interested in how institutions discipline individuals, shaping how they think, behave, and even perceive themselves.

• • • On the yacht, the crew is subject to intense discipline. They must obey absurd rituals (such as the captain’s dinner, even in extreme seasickness) to reinforce class dominance. This mirrors Foucault’s studies of military schools and hospitals—institutions that turn individuals into obedient, self-regulating subjects.
    • Carl’s journey throughout the film illustrates the way power disciplines men’s bodies and identities. As a male model, he is both objectified and powerless, constantly judged on his appearance rather than his agency. His relationship with Yaya is shaped by gendered economic power—she makes more money, but still expects him to perform traditional masculine roles.
    • On the island, the same individuals are re-disciplined into a new structure. The rich, previously the ones controlling discipline, now become obedient subjects to Abigail’s rule. This illustrates Foucault’s idea that power doesn’t disappear—it just transforms into new structures.

4. The Failure of Resistance and the Return of Hierarchy
Foucault believed that resistance is always possible, but rarely leads to total liberation. Instead, power just mutates into a different form.

• • • When Abigail takes control, her initially liberatory role (giving power to the previously oppressed) turns into another authoritarian structure. She hoards resources, demands submission, and ultimately resorts to violence to maintain power (potentially killing Yaya in the final scene).
    • Foucault would argue that this proves that revolutions rarely escape the logic of power—instead of dismantling hierarchy, they simply create new systems of discipline.
    • The film suggests that there is no “outside” of power, echoing Foucault’s argument that power is everywhere, not just in government or wealth but in all relationships and systems.

For Foucault, Triangle of Sadness would be a brilliant demonstration of power in action, but also a grim reminder that even when one system falls, another takes its place.

Andrew Ross on the Triangle of Sadness

Andrew Ross, a cultural critic and scholar known for his work on labor, luxury, neoliberalism, and the critique of wealth in late capitalism, would likely view Triangle of Sadness as a brutal but necessary exposé of the contradictions within global capitalism, particularly in the luxury economy. His analysis would focus on how wealth accumulation, precarious labor, and performative consumption shape modern social relations.

1. Luxury as an Industry of Exploitation
Ross has written extensively on how the luxury industry is built on exploitative labor and economic inequality, particularly in books like The Celebration Chronicles and Nice Work If You Can Get It. He would see the luxury cruise in Triangle of Sadness as a microcosm of global wealth disparity:

• • • The yacht is not just a playground for the rich—it is an economic machine that relies on hyper-disciplined, invisible labor to maintain the illusion of exclusivity and leisure.
    • The contrast between the wealthy passengers (who do nothing but consume) and the workers (who must maintain a “customer is always right” attitude even in humiliating circumstances) mirrors Ross’s arguments about the “servant economy” in neoliberalism.
    • The absurdity of forcing workers to cheerfully comply with irrational demands (like the stewardess forcing a reluctant crew member to swim to satisfy a rich passenger’s whim) exemplifies the degradation of labor under luxury capitalism.

Ross would likely praise the film for exposing this reality, arguing that it highlights how luxury culture depends on a hidden underclass whose suffering is essential to sustaining elite comfort.

2. The Influencers: Labor Without Labor
Ross has written about precarious work in the gig economy, and he would likely see Carl and Yaya—the model-influencers—as perfect examples of neoliberal labor’s new contradictions:

• • • Yaya, an Instagram influencer, represents a new kind of worker: one who performs luxury rather than produces anything tangible. She enjoys extravagant vacations not because she can afford them but because her curated image generates economic value through advertising and sponsorships.
    • Carl, a male model, experiences the precariousness of aesthetic labor—his work depends on his looks, youth, and ability to meet arbitrary beauty standards. He has no real economic security, yet he exists in a world that claims to celebrate his labor.
    • This reflects Ross’s view that late capitalism increasingly blurs the lines between labor and leisure, forcing workers to turn their own lives into commodities.

For Ross, the film would illustrate how even “privileged” workers like influencers are trapped in cycles of insecurity, dependent on corporate sponsorships, social media algorithms, and the illusion of luxury consumption.

3. The Island as a Critique of Capitalist Mythmaking
Ross is particularly interested in the cultural narratives that sustain capitalism, and the island section of the film would stand out to him as a brilliant deconstruction of these myths:

• • • The island setting exposes the fragility of meritocratic ideology—the billionaires, capitalists, and influencers, who were supposedly “deserving” of their wealth, become helpless the moment their economic power is rendered meaningless.
    • Abigail, the former toilet cleaner, rises to power not because of wealth, but because she has practical survival skills—highlighting the fact that real value in society is produced by workers, not elites.
    • The film brilliantly undermines the idea that wealth is the result of intelligence, talent, or hard work. Instead, it shows that power is arbitrarily assigned based on artificial conditions.

Ross would likely celebrate this critique, arguing that the film exposes the absurdity of capitalism’s justifications for inequality—but he would also question whether the film offers any real solutions.

4. The Cynicism of the Ending: No Way Out?

Ross, like many leftist cultural critics, would likely see the film’s bleak ending as both accurate and frustrating.

• • • The film seems to suggest that even when capitalism is removed, new power structures emerge that are just as oppressive. Abigail, once a victim, now wields control over the other survivors in the same way the elite once controlled her.
    • This aligns with Ross’s critiques of neoliberalism, where even moments of apparent resistance often get absorbed back into systems of domination.

However, Ross might argue that the film stops short of imagining a true alternative—it critiques capitalism without offering a vision for something better. He would likely wish for a more radical resolution, one that explores the potential for genuine collectivism rather than just another reconfiguration of power.

Ross would appreciate the film’s savage critique, he might also push for a more radical, utopian vision that challenges the idea that no alternative is possible.

Dick Hebdige on Triangle of Sadness: A Subcultural Analysis of Power, Style, and Resistance

Dick Hebdige, known for his work on subcultures, style, and the ways in which power operates through cultural symbols, would likely approach Triangle of Sadness by analyzing the visual and performative codes of class, wealth, and resistance. His famous book Subculture: The Meaning of Style (1979) argues that style is a form of resistance—but in Triangle of Sadness, style is mostly a tool of domination rather than rebellion. Here’s how Hebdige might interpret the film:

1. The Yacht as a Space of Hegemonic Style
Hebdige would analyze the luxury yacht as a highly coded environment where style operates as a signifier of power.

• • • The outfits, manners, and rituals of the ultra-rich passengers reinforce their dominance. The ship functions like a closed, elite club, where status is visually and behaviorally performed through expensive clothing, excessive leisure, and a carefully curated separation from the working class.
    • The crew’s uniforms and forced smiles reflect what Hebdige would call “hegemonic control”—their bodies and appearances are regulated to fit a particular aesthetic of servitude.
    • The ship is a space of controlled performance, where workers must pretend to be cheerful even in the most degrading circumstances. This mirrors how mainstream culture suppresses subversive expressions, forcing individuals into roles that maintain the status quo.

For Hebdige, the yacht serves as a symbol of cultural hegemony, where style and behavior police class boundaries.

2. Influencer Culture: The Failure of Subcultural Resistance

Carl and Yaya, the influencer couple, would fascinate Hebdige because they blur the lines between subculture and mainstream elite culture.

• • • In Subculture: The Meaning of Style, Hebdige explores how youth subcultures (punk, mods, skinheads, etc.) use fashion, music, and slang to resist dominant ideology. But Carl and Yaya do not resist the system—they reinforce it through a different kind of aesthetic performance.
    • Influencers embody the failure of subculture to resist capitalism. What once might have been an alternative, rebellious way of expressing oneself (through fashion, youth culture, etc.) has been fully absorbed into the system.
    • Yaya and Carl sell an image of effortless luxury and beauty, even though their lives are precarious and dependent on brand deals. Their influence is not based on rebellion but on compliance—they don’t challenge the world of the rich; they aspire to be part of it.

Hebdige would argue that the influencer economy has turned style into an empty spectacle—a signifier without substance, where even “rebellious” aesthetics are monetized.

3. The Island as an Upside-Down Cultural Order

Hebdige’s interest in the subversion of dominant culture makes the island scene a key moment in his interpretation.

• • • When the survivors land on the island, the existing power structures collapse. The elite, who previously controlled wealth, become powerless. In contrast, Abigail, the working-class toilet cleaner, seizes power because of her survival skills.
    • The island functions as a moment of subcultural rupture—where traditional symbols of power (money, designer clothing, beauty) lose their meaning.
    • Abigail’s rise to dominance momentarily challenges the established class system, but instead of creating a collective or equal structure, she reconstructs a new hierarchy, just with herself at the top.

For Hebdige, this reflects a deeper truth about subcultures and resistance: while they can disrupt the system, they are often reabsorbed into new forms of power. Instead of a revolution, we get a mere inversion of roles.

4. The Absence of True Subcultural Resistance
One of Hebdige’s key arguments is that subcultures create resistance through symbolic rebellion—but Triangle of Sadness lacks any real countercultural force.

• • • In punk culture, for example, style was used to mock, challenge, and disrupt the mainstream (e.g., torn clothing, DIY aesthetics, safety pins as jewelry). In the film, there is no equivalent countercultural movement—only the empty spectacle of influencer fashion and the sterile conformity of wealth.
    • The only potential site of resistance, Abigail’s rise to power, ultimately fails to change anything—she simply becomes another authoritarian figure.
    • Hebdige would argue that the film offers critique without transformation, exposing class inequality but failing to imagine a genuine alternative.

For Hebdige, Triangle of Sadness is a powerful demonstration of how late capitalism has neutralized subcultural style, turning even “rebellion” into just another commodity.

Bob Hodge on Triangle of Sadness: A Semiotic and Critical Discourse Analysis

Bob Hodge, known for his work on semiotics, discourse analysis, and ideology, would approach Triangle of Sadness by examining how signs, symbols, and language construct social power and class relations. He would likely see the film as a semiotic battlefield, where the meaning of wealth, labor, and survival is constantly shifting through different discourses.

1. The Yacht as a Semiotic System of Power
Hodge’s semiotic approach would emphasize how the luxury yacht functions as a highly coded sign system, where every interaction and visual element reinforces social hierarchy.

• • • The yacht crew members are trained to speak in a specific, submissive discourse, always smiling and affirming the desires of the rich, even when those desires are absurd or humiliating.
    • The physical separation of spaces (first-class decks for the rich, lower quarters for the crew) visually reinforces power structures—a classic example of spatial semiotics, where physical design encodes meaning.
    • The Russian oligarch’s bombastic speech about capitalism and the drunk captain’s Marxist quotes turn ideology into a performative spectacle, where discourse is not about meaning, but about reinforcing identity within a power structure.

Hodge would see this as a classic case of discourse shaping reality—power is maintained not just through material wealth, but through the control of language and symbols.

2. Influencers and the Semiotics of Social Media Labor
Hodge’s interest in media discourse and meaning-making would lead him to analyze how influencers function within the film’s critique of capitalism.

• • • Yaya and Carl are symbols of the digital age’s new class system, where power is based on visibility rather than tangible labor.
    • Their value is not in what they produce, but in how they curate their image—they are walking signs, whose currency is aesthetic rather than economic capital.
    • This fits into Hodge’s broader critique of media discourse, where new digital forms of labor are both hyper-visible and deeply precarious.

For Hodge, Triangle of Sadness exposes how digital labor turns people into signs rather than subjects, erasing their autonomy while making them dependent on external validation.

3. The Island as a Collapse of the Old Discourse
One of Hodge’s key arguments is that discourse is contingent—it shifts based on power relations. The shipwreck and island survival scenario completely deconstructs the previous system of meaning.

• • • The language of wealth becomes meaningless: Money, status, and influencer fame no longer have any exchange value.
    • A new discourse of survival emerges, where labor and skill, not symbolic capital, determine power. Abigail’s ability to fish, cook, and organize resources makes her dominant.
    • However, this new discourse is not a utopia—instead of dismantling hierarchy, it simply replaces one power structure with another.

Hodge would likely argue that this mirrors historical revolutions, where old discourses are overthrown but new power structures quickly replace them.

4. The Failure of Ideological Resistance
Hodge’s work on critical discourse analysis often explores how ideology both sustains and resists power. In Triangle of Sadness, ideological resistance is present but ineffective:

• • • The ship’s Marxist captain represents a theoretical resistance, but he is too drunk and apathetic to create real change.
    • Abigail’s rise to power could be seen as a working-class revolt, but instead of redistributing power, she becomes just as authoritarian as the elites before her.
    • The final scene, where Abigail considers murdering Yaya to maintain her fragile dominance, reinforces the cyclical nature of power, showing that discourse never truly disappears—it just mutates.

Hodge would interpret this as a demonstration of how discourse is self-sustaining—even when structures collapse, new ones form from the same ideological materials.

Ultimately, Hodge would see Triangle of Sadness as a powerful study in how discourse maintains power, but also how its collapse leads not to liberation, but to new cycles of domination.

Ackbar Abbas on Triangle of Sadness: Spectacle, Disappearance, and the Failure of Resistance

Ackbar Abbas, known for his work on culture, spectacle, and the politics of disappearance, particularly in the context of postmodern cities like Hong Kong, would likely view Triangle of Sadness through the lens of how power and meaning dissolve into spectacle, how capitalism turns critique into performance, and how political resistance fails to materialize. His concept of “the politics of disappearance”—how capitalism and modernity erase meaning while maintaining a veneer of substance—would be a key framework for analyzing the film.

1. Spectacle Without Substance: The Politics of Disappearance
Abbas often argues that modern capitalism thrives on spectacle, where meaning doesn’t disappear outright, but is hollowed out and replaced with empty signs. In Triangle of Sadness, this is visually and narratively evident:

• • • The luxury yacht is a floating symbol of wealth, but its opulence is meaningless beyond its ability to signal status. The rich characters have no real power outside of this setting—their wealth is performative rather than functional.
    • The influencers, Carl and Yaya, embody the idea of disappearance—they are famous not for what they do, but for their ability to curate an image. Their existence is a hall of mirrors, where their “work” is just the representation of labor rather than labor itself.
    • The ship’s Marxist captain and the Russian oligarch engaging in a debate about capitalism vs. communism reduces ideology to pure performance—it is not about action or resistance but about spectacle and ironic detachment.

Abbas would likely argue that the film shows how capitalism absorbs even its own critique, turning real crises (class struggle, wealth disparity, labor exploitation) into aestheticized performances that ultimately lead nowhere.

2. Capitalism as a System of Dislocated Meaning
In Abbas’s work, the city is a space where meaning is constantly disappearing and being replaced by new, equally empty symbols. In Triangle of Sadness, the film’s settings—the yacht, the island, and the influencer world—can be seen as three stages of capitalism’s dislocation of meaning:

• • • The Yacht: A space of extreme privilege and aesthetic control, where wealth appears stable and unchallengeable—yet, as soon as real-world conditions (the storm, seasickness) interfere, the illusion collapses.
    • The Island: A reversal of power that shows how capitalist hierarchy is arbitrary and fragile, yet the new system (Abigail’s rule) simply replaces the old one rather than breaking free from it.
    • The Influencer Economy: A world where even rebellion is commodified, and where success is based on the aesthetics of consumption rather than material production.

For Abbas, this cycle of disappearance and replacement mirrors how postmodern capitalism erases traditional meanings (wealth as earned, labor as productive) and replaces them with pure simulation.

3. The Failure of Resistance: Power Simply Resets
One of Abbas’s key ideas is that resistance to capitalism is often preemptively absorbed into it, neutralizing its power. In Triangle of Sadness, every potential site of rebellion fails to create lasting change:

• • • The ship’s Marxist captain, rather than leading any true revolutionary action, is simply a part of the spectacle, engaging in theoretical debates rather than real struggle.
    • The collapse of capitalist hierarchy on the island does not result in a more egalitarian order, but instead in a mere inversion of roles—Abigail becomes a new kind of dictator, proving that capitalism doesn’t die; it just mutates into new forms.
    • The final scene, where Abigail considers killing Yaya to maintain her fragile power, suggests that even outside of capitalism, power is always on the verge of reasserting itself.

Abbas would argue that this is a classic example of capitalism’s ability to preempt and redirect revolution, turning it into just another cycle of domination.

4. The Aestheticization of Crisis
Abbas frequently critiques how crisis and catastrophe are turned into aesthetic experiences in late capitalism. Triangle of Sadness does this in a literal and meta way:

• • • The vomiting scene on the yacht, while grotesque, is filmed as a spectacle—turning real physical breakdown into entertainment.
    • The island, which should be a space of rebirth or reinvention, becomes just another site of power struggles, showing how capitalism even aestheticizes its own downfall.
    • Even the film itself participates in this logic—it is a critique of wealth, yet it is a luxury cinematic experience for festival audiences, many of whom belong to the very class it critiques.

Abbas might argue that Triangle of Sadness is ultimately trapped in the very system it exposes—it can reveal the emptiness of power, but it cannot escape turning that emptiness into a marketable product.

For Abbas, Triangle of Sadness is a brilliant but ultimately cynical diagnosis of how power and wealth operate in a world where meaning is endlessly deferred, and critique itself has become a luxury product.