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Early on in Triangle of Sadness, Ruben Östlund’s gleefully icky black comedy, a luxury cruiseline’s head of staff, Paula (Vicki Berlin), summons her on-deck workers for one last group huddle before their soon-to-arrive über-rich clients board. She repeats what they’ve doubtless heard countless times one way or another: that whether a guest asks for an impossible-to-obtain drug or even a unicorn, respond only with an assuring “yes, ma’am” or “yes, sir.” But she also reiterates the importance of making a good impression particularly on the make-it-or-break-it first and last days, not just for the sake of the company’s reputation but also because that’s when clients may feel, wink wink, most generous. 

The first day goes well enough. But by the time we approach the last, it will so profoundly not matter that Paula’s pep talk, with hindsight, will come to feel like the ratification of a curse. In terms of movies where things nosedive south on a big ship, Triangle of Sadness makes the central conflict of The Poseidon Adventure (1972) — that classic disaster movie in which an heir to the Titanic flips stomach-down — seem comparatively easygoing, almost polite. 

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