, Ruben Östlund’s finely conceived, punchy, but occasionally rather pious piss-take of the art world, Cannes was waiting impatiently to see the director’s next move.
From all of these scenarios, Östlund wrings every last drop of painfully acute comedy, showing not only a gimlet eye for detail in the way he writes his dialogue, but a great formal brio in his staging and composition.
The objects of Östlund’s kicking, in this film, are the grotesque, moneyed upper-classes of the new globalized world order.
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