...it’s fresh, and thought-provoking, and provocative in the way that few films are. I’m going with three-and-a-half out of five for The Square. At over two hours and thirty minutes it demands patience. But stick with it and you’ll be rewarded.

Like his fellow Cannes winners, Thai maestro Apichatpong Weerasethakul and the great Turkish filmmaker Nuri Bilge Ceylan, Östlund is a champion of constructing long scenes that could work just as well as short films. He thrives on silences and discomfort, taking immense pleasure in throwing his characters in awkward situations and watching from a distance as they flail about trying to escape. Which is what Christian does in every scene of the film - from making idiotic attempts to retrieve his stolen phone to confusing even himself whether or not he’s still relevant.

Ruben Östlund's scripting doesn't allow for much integration between events so what you get is a stripped along story-telling that might seem meaningful to some and largely worthless to others. The experience thereof is interesting but not exactly illuminating or heartfelt.

The Square is actually the sum of its parts, rather than a seamless whole. Viewers are probably going to pick differing scenes as their favourites. Ostlund arranges these scenes around Christian – a character who constantly looks like he’s about to go off the edge. Claes Bang is fantastic as he faces challenges and weirdness, and he also rocks a dinner jacket.

Despite the censorship, The Square manages to emerge as a rewarding experience. It’s quite enriching when an artist, in this case Östlund, pushes the boundaries of cinema to unfamiliarise, and even destroy, known concepts, creating a sense of heightened awareness towards them. Be it towards accepted norms of human behaviour, poverty in a posh Scandinavian city or politics of capitalism, it all ultimately forms the bedrock of strong artistic discourse.