The Joker

Credit: Ella Kemp

Viscerally engaging, cruelly beautiful, and hilariously apt at critiquing the warped importance of capitalism, Ruben Östlund's Triangle of Sadness is as divisive as it is entertaining. Its on-the-nose satire cuts deep as its characters fall victim to the desolate glamour of living the high life. No character is quite so lost to the whims of luxurious living as celebrity model Carl, played by British actor Harris Dickinson.

Set on a luxury cruise that promises elegance, its guests and crew soon find themselves descending into madness. Observationally strong, but also liberal with its toilet humour, Triangle of Sadness ensures that the dramas of social faux pas quickly pale in comparison to what awaits everyone on board.

No one is spared from its critical gaze, with both working and upper class alike pricked by the various barbs of its humour. Its blunt delivery, sometimes so bathed in irony it’s suffocating, is why it was crowned the Palme d'Or winner. However, while it locks society in a death grip through each act, its edges are softer than previous outings from Östlund.

Eager to lose ourselves in the hedonistic chaos, MASSIVE sat down with Harris Dickinson to talk comedy, subtle observations, and allowing yourself to be shamelessly pathetic on camera.

Triangle of Sadness has the subtlety of a chainsaw, with its “eat the rich” humour very on the nose – is that what attracted you to the film?

It was mainly because of Ruben – I love his work, and I think the script was amazing. It was just bonkers in all the best ways. And the role was kind of shameless and pathetic. Carl is a bit of a mess, that sounded interesting to me.

How easy was it to “tone down” your triangle of sadness and laugh at Carl while taking your job seriously? 

The thing with the scenes, and the way we could make it, is that Ruben wants everything investigated very seriously and very realistically. Carl was a product of the situation. I almost feel like he was created along the way; we found him with these sort of neurotic tendencies, or these very self conscious and insecure tendencies, that led him to be the worst version of himself as he sort of scrambles along into adulthood.

From being a young male, where he's probably gotten a lot away with a lot of shit, now he's having to take responsibility and accountability… or not. So yeah, it was just fun. And I had to allow myself to be humiliated and pathetic.

Credit: Ella Kemp

What was that like having to be humiliated in such a public and vulnerable way?

I was anxious. I used to come home feeling anxious because it felt real – it felt like I was getting into those situations. You really start to embody it and start to believe, and you’re like, “God, I’m not like this, like, this isn't what I would do,” or think I'm so much more of a better person than the character. 

Just to be humiliated like that is revealing. After Cannes, it was weird because everyone had just watched the film, everyone has just seen you in that kind of role, so when they meet you they're like, “Oh, hey. Oh, it's Carl.” So that's the thing with acting, you're constantly dealing with people's perception of who you might be.

What are your favourite dark comedies? What did you watch to do some homework on the tone for this film?

There weren't any specific films that we watched, we were just watching a lot of scenes rather than full films. And there were specific scenes that Ruben was referencing, but there wasn't anything I was watching to try and work. 

My prep for this was different, because Ruben doesn't like to have anything to prepare you for a character or an avatar, he likes it to be found along the way. So, I sort of took my foot off the pedal a little bit with all of that prep because it was kind of useless. The only way to be good at it is to be in the moment, be focused, be concentrated, and be daring with it. 

I do love comedies, though. I grew up on Superbad and stuff like that, sort of silly, boyish comedies. But then recently I watched Waiting for Guffman, which is a brilliant mockumentary series, just from the sheer talent of the cast. 

When it comes to comedy, do you prefer razor sharp observational humour or toilet humour? Triangle of Sadness has both in abundance.

It’s got to be a mixture of subtle observational comedy and then also pushing it to the extreme. I think it's great to have both, though I don’t have a preference. I love silly, I love when people can be ridiculous, when people can really look stupid because we are stupid. We’re ridiculous with the things we do and say; despite how superior we think we are, we are pathetic at times. I'm pathetic. So, it’s funny to see that, to see people sort of mess up. I think that's what Ruben’s films are about: exploring male failure and masculinity.

Credit: Ella Kemp

How do you stop yourself laughing? 

There are a lot of scenes where I did find it hard not to laugh, where I’m really struggling not to crack up, though you have to remember that we did laugh in a lot of takes. Sometimes you can even hear Ruben laughing, and it kind of helps. It adds this energy of giddiness in the air, like you’re nailing it or it’s funny – when you make people laugh, you go a bit more on a roll.

It’s a nice feeling when you can bring a bit of laughter, but when you can’t it’s a horrible feeling. When your jokes sink or miss the mark, or you someone doesn’t hear you properly and you have to repeat something, it’s not funny and you feel it. You feel the weight of it. 

What's your go-to film to recommend to make somebody else laugh? 

There's a great documentary called Lift. It's about 20 minutes long, and it’s brilliant. Really funny. I mean, it’s a documentary, but it's also really fun. I always send that to people because it's an easy, digestible watch.

Who are your favourite British comedians? 

Mo Gilligan is pretty funny. Ricky Gervais is also funny, but, I don’t know – I don’t really go to comedy.

Finally, what's your best joke?

It’s a bit of a long one. Donald Sutherland told me this one: A moth goes into a dietitian's office and says, “I’m having a terrible time, I’ve been smacked around by my partner all morning, and I just need some help.” The dietician replies, “Oh, well, that’s really sad, I’m sorry to hear that, but what do you want from me? Why are you here?”. The moth looks around and says, “Well, I’m just having such a terrible time,” to which the dietitian continues, “Yes, but why have you come into my office? I’m not a therapist, I’m a dietitian.” And the moth says, “Well, the light was on and the door was open.”  

Triangle of Sadness is in UK cinemas from October 28.