The Square

The winner of this year Cannes' Palme d'Or is a sharp and stimulating critique to the different dimensions that conform the art world and its diverse protagonists. The film follows the misadventures of Christian, the curator of a chic Contemporary Art Museum while he is about to open an exposition around a piece called "The Square", that literally is a square in the floor with a mantra that calls for everybody that enters the space to behave in a compassionate way towards one another.

But The Square, is rather a collection of vignettes that question diverse aspects of art and its relationship with the society and the individual. From a failed interview that aims at the presumptuous intellectual language used to cover the void of real meaning, to a essayed speech that shows the simulation that are snob events. But as we follow Christian, we discover that the museum and the exhibition are a microcosmos of the bigger picture: a society like Sweden, that is mostly regarded as a top class egalitarian advanced country where the people have a mutual understanding of rules to coexist in harmony.

Christian, a prototype of the liberal high-class man: well-educated, impecable appearance, and a commitment to make the world a better place through his involvement in art. But when different strings are pulled, he goes revealing his standings are more image than substance, and his vision of "common trust" will be tested at different levels.

Ruben Östlund doesn't restrict himself with his targets: class prejudice, modern marketing, political correction, freedom of speech. All of those subjects are analyzed, mostly in an awkward comedic way, but he reaches good moments of violent tension, specially when a performance sees a snob group of people being attacked by a man-ape; the instructions are clear: if you show fear or try to escape, the beast will hunt you, but you can stay immobile and remain safe watching as somebody else becomes the victim. He wisely reproduces this dynamic contrasting the posh snobs in the museum with the group of beggars that inhabit the streets, mostly unnoticed by the formers. He knows who the target of his movie is (people who go to see a Palme d'Or movie are pretty likely to be the same as the ones attending a contemporary art museum), and target them with potent accusations that will make them feel more than uncomfortable while recognizing themselves in the characters.

Östulnd gives you a lot (really, it's almost excessive in the number of questions it throws) to think about, and if at times he is brutal - a marketing campaign gone wrong shows us that trying to decide between political correction and freedom of speech will leave you in a blind alley -, some other times he leaves things open and with not a real insight, making the final part with a strong conclusion that would tie all the pieces that were thrown in the almost two hours and a half of the movie. But the visual style helps, he uses the portrays the allegoric square in a visual way, framing his characters and enclosing them in well-defined spaces.

In any case, Östlund provokes, and he is successful in several ways. He keeps asking questions that most people are afraid to ask and pointing the finger at places where people are ashamed to look. He doesn't offers moral thesis that we are forced to agree on, he wants to trouble our self-perception of moral rightness by mocking our representations of liberal intellectuals.