the square (w&d ruben östlund)

When you’re developing a film in this part of the world (I don’t know what it’s like in Sweden), you are repeatedly requested to clarify the film’s themes. One can imagine what someone like Hitchcock might have made of this. As a writer, I tend to be inherently resistant to this way of thinking which can lead to a tendency to over-explain, even to patronise the audience. You shouldn’t need to state your themes. They should emerge. At least that’s my line. The Square is a classic example of a film that seems far too concerned with making sure there’s absolutely no doubt about its themes. Which is a real shame, because this ends up spoiling what would otherwise have been a terrific film. 

Christian is a gallery curator whose latest project, an installation by Lola Arias, is all about creating a space which is both a haven and a place which forces individuals to face up to to, or square up to, their social responsibilities. This film ends up being Christian’s ‘square’. The place where he will confront his responsibilities, something he’s not very keen on having to do, either as a father, a lover or a human being. The first hour of the film has several sequences which display the director’s razor-sharp satirical brilliance. The world of the gallery is beautifully constructed. Christian’s understated arrogance meticulously captured by actor, Claes Bang, and script. But gradually the film starts to lose its shape. Increasingly it becomes a string of sequences rather than a cohesive narrative. The ape-man dinner, the press conference, the girls’ acrobatic team, the star cameos, the kitchen sink. It dawns on you that the director is struggling to leave anything out. Whilst simultaneously putting as much in as he feasibly can to make sure that we, as an audience, get what it’s all about. The themes. It starts to feel like being hit over the head with a paper hammer. It doesn’t hurt, it even tickles, but in the end it can’t help but become irritating. 

Force Majeure had an economy, reinforced by the single location, which helped lend the film a remarkable power. The Square, in spite of its title, feels as though it sprawls all over Stockholm. No-one’s going to deny that Östlund has serious talent, but The Square is never as neat as its premise suggests. In some ways it’s reminiscent of the film of Arias’ compatriot, one she actually appears in, Mariano Llinas’ Improbable Stories, a film which also suggests a wunderkind at work, but one which ends up giving the impression of a director over-reaching themselves, both in length and insistence (in Llinas’ case it’s an over-reliance on his aesthetic). Or even Lanthimos’ The Lobster: all of these films indicative of talented directors grappling to get to grips with bigger budgets and wider reach.