David Cronenberg ain’t got nothin’ on Coralie Fargeat. Cronenberg, the body-horror director who has been called the “King of Venereal Horror” and the “Baron of Blood,” has been namechecked by French director Fargeat – along with David Lynch, John Carpenter, and Michael Haneke – as influencing her work. With her latest picture, the giddily gory The Substance, Fargeat makes a convincing case that she’s ready to join, as a peer, the ranks of those she admires. Her film is as nasty as any Cronenberg, as bonkers as any Lynch, and is so horrifically hilarious that I often found myself laughing as I was wincing and looking away from the screen. The Substance is also a razor-sharp feminist satire about youth and beauty and how both are weaponized against women in our society.
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Satire
“I sell shit.”
That’s the key line in Swedish director Ruben Östlund’s brutally hilarious black comedy Triangle of Sadness. This is Östlund’s debut English-language film, and it won him a second straight Palme d'Or at Cannes, after 2017’s The Square. For this latest effort, Östlund – who wrote the screenplay, in addition to directing – skewers the super-rich with biting, merciless satire. Within the film’s eat-the-rich ethos, its flavor profile is enhanced with a liberal amount of mockery directed at the pitiless, transactional nature that extreme wealth breeds in every human encounter it infects.