Films > Film Reviews

The Square

Cinema City

05/03/18

A renowned artist is participating in a public interview, held in an esteemed contemporary museum. He is interrupted by a man who claps several times, before rattling off a series of expletives. This goes on throughout the talk. A woman explains: his husband has Tourettes, he’s so sorry, he can’t help it.

How would you react in that situation? Would you get annoyed with the man, or would you understand his plight? Would you carry on as normal, or would you wonder why the man would even turn up to a public event if he knew it would disturb the crowd? It was at this point in The Square that I - momentarily - stopped watching what was on screen and started watching the audience. How are they reacting to this moment, drenched in awkward tension? What’s going through their heads?

For Ruben Ostlund’s thrilling and eclectic cinematic art installation is about exactly that: reaction. And what better way to stage that rich thematic morsel than at a 21st century art museum, where so much is left up to interpretation?

The Square follows this museum’s curator, Christian (Claes Bang), a picture-perfect rendition of suave modernity. But behind his crimson-spectacled, unbuttoned-white-shirted exterior, lies a man as unsure of himself as any. Through a series of poor decisions, beginning with a stolen phone and ending with a headlong veer into some form of mental breakdown, these layers are slowly peeled back. Like Ostlund’s preceding film, Force Majeure , here he is interested in the frail masculine psyche.

But he’s also interested in the relationship between old and new: one of The Square ’s first images is of a bronze-emblazoned statue haphazardly replaced by a neon-lit cube. Dubbed ‘The Square’, it signals a new installation for its art museum, and represents ‘a sanctuary of trust and caring’ (the artist’s words, not mine). What do those words mean? Christian explains its message several times throughout The Square ’s two and a half hours, but each reciting somehow feels slightly different to the last. In truth, he doesn’t know. In turn, neither do we.

More breadcrumbs to interpret: the dynamic between the upper-class curators and art professionals of the world that stand and gawk at the museum’s treasure-cum-tat, and the homeless and impoverished, who watch as their richer counterparts walk by and ignore them. In one scene, a homeless woman rudely demands a sandwich from Christian - Ostlund is playing against what we want to gain from this moment - contempt towards the rich and empathy towards the poor. How are we to react? Again, this question is pushed to the forefront.

The Square is a heady Rorschach test, a kaleidoscope of disparate scenes and ideas that only coalesce if you’re willing to participate in Ostlund’s experiment. Its premiere at Cannes provoked an impressive range of reactions, which were only fueled by its Palme d’Or win. This is a good thing: reactions are what constitute analysis of cinema; of any art form, really. It’s easy to see how this modern art museum relates to the current film industry. The Square is the ultimate meta-statement: every single interpretation you have about it is exactly what the film is about.  And yes, I am aware that I’m also joining in this experiment - it is literally impossible not to, and fundamental to the film’s stranglehold on its audience.

There are some furiously fantastic scenes here interspersed with a glorious shaggy-dog narrative. There’s a bizarre post-sex talk centered around a used condom. There’s a hilarious incident where an art installation composed of piles of gravel are accidentally hoovered up by a hapless cleaner. And, Terry Notary, who starred in the Planet of the Apes franchise, maintains his ape antics with a stunning, show-stopping set-piece, where he clambers around an unsuspecting bourgeois dinner party. He doesn’t totter on the fine line between art and reality: he breaks it completely. And, tellingly so, reaction has a huge part to play in proceedings.

The guests remain static as Notary terrorises the party; us, the audience, urge them to do something, anything . But what would we do in that situation? Would we do the same? The bystander effect is in full throttle here - admittedly, it’s been in full throttle right from The Square ’s opening. Conversations may take place between multiple characters but the camera fixates its gaze on one and leaves it resting there: the dialogue is less important than the reaction. Did I mention The Square is about reaction? It’s about reaction goddammit!

Towards the film’s end, Christian holds a press conference. His entrance is greeted with a cacophony of dissent. One reporter argues that his actions have been shameful. They all clap. Another offers his opinion that by apologising for his actions, he’s rejecting free speech. They all clap. The point is made: it doesn’t matter what your interpretation is, as long as you have one. Which is why The Square ’s success at Cannes was warranted: it fuels discussion, exacerbates reaction, provokes interpretation. I think it’s a phenomenal film, but hey, don’t let that stop you from having your own opinion. It’s your own reaction that counts.

9/10