‘Saltburn’ Review — A Maddening Maze of Excess and Obsession
Image via Amazon Studios
This review was written during the 2023 SAG-AFTRA strike by a member of SAG-AFTRA. This film would not exist without the labor of the actors currently on strike for fair wages and working conditions. No money was exchanged for this review.
Emerald Fennell’s stylish sophomore feature Saltburn drips with tawdry intrigue and a myriad of bodily fluids as it slides down the dizzying spiral banisters of extravagant wealth and moral depravity. Where Brideshead Revisited was set against the backdrop of the Second World War and the earlier trappings of the 1920s, Fennell sets Saltburn amidst the cringe-fest of the mid-aughts when ostentatious wealth collided grimly with foundation-caked faces and all the teen angst of Skins. The comparison between the two works extends no further than their Oxford settings, queer pining (nay, obsession), and eccentric friend groups because Fennell is willing to go further than Evelyn Waugh ever dared to go.
Oliver Quick (Barry Keoghan) is a rather unremarkable scholarship student cast into a sea of picture-perfect legacy students at Oxford University. He tries, quite poorly, to dress the part—but second-hand Oxfam attire stands out to rich kids who know what’s “in” in 2006. He makes a singular friend in the extremely nerdy and self-ascribed “math genius” Michael Gavey (Ewan Mitchell), but fate quickly intercedes—fast-tracking Oliver into the magnetic field of Felix Catton (Jacob Elordi) and his too-cool friend group. Desperate to fit in and keep Felix’s largely aloof interest, Oliver molds himself into a more perfect version of himself; a version worthy of securing an open-ended invite to Felix’s family’s palatial estate for the summer.
Fennell doesn’t pull back on the dark academia stylings once Oliver and Felix trade the grimy dorms of Oxford for the grand and soul-crushing aesthetics of Saltburn. Instead, she layers on gothic motifs—beckoning cinematographer Linus Sandgren to play out the scenes of Caravaggio, lit only by the light of a karaoke machine and exploiting the desperate, obsessive imagery of Wuthering Heights with new and perverse means. New money knows glamor, while old money knows only decay—and therein lies the downfall of the occupants of Saltburn, when their moldering ways are lit with the flame of the man they mistook for a moth.
Saltburn is filled to the brim and overflowing with literary allusions and metaphors that extend far beyond the obvious. Sandgren utilizes mirrors and reflections to showcase the duplicitous nature of the film’s characters, while Fennell’s script takes a bite out of vampirism, fallen angels, and the moth eating away at the wardrobe it's been trapped within. With Promising Young Woman, Fennell pushed the envelope with sugar-sweet sociopathy, and with Saltburn she goes even further—teetering on a precipice where murder is the least shocking action on display. It edges its audience by showing them shocking and perverse scenes, only to back away and lull them into a false sense of security. It delights as much as it disgusts, and that is part of its sickening charm.
If The Banshees of Inisherin showcased how Keoghan can hold his own against greats like Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson, Saltburn solidifies that Keoghan is one of the best actors of his generation. Like Fennell’s script which lulls its audience into a false sense of security time and time again, he uses a guileless sort of waifish innocence to pacify those around him. He is awkward and endearing and so very harmless—until he’s not. That duplicity sits upon a knife’s edge, which Keoghan knows how to wield with keen perfection. He turns Oliver’s obsession with Felix into something palpable, and Elordi makes it easy to see why someone would yearn for a beautiful man who is so casually cruel.
The House of ‘Saltburn’ Is Filled With Intrigue
Image via Amazon Studios
Elordi is not alone in the casual cruelty or the alluring beauty—he learned from the very best, after all. To court Felix’s madness, Oliver must court them all, starting with Venetia Catton (Alison Oliver), the troubled little sister who is all too amused with her brother’s latest charity project. Venetia clings to the bars of her gilded cage, bending to the whims of everyone around her in hopes that she might finally be noticed. Her desperation seems almost garish when compared to Oliver’s, considering she has everything—and everyone’s attention too—while he has none.
For Felix and Venetia, the apple fell very close to the tree. Their parents, Elsbeth (Rosamund Pike) and Sir James (Richard E. Grant) are pitch-perfect caricatures of the minor aristocracy of the mid-aughts. Sir James is quite aloof and happily caught in the maw of his much-younger wife who runs the show with beauty, grace, and a stiff upper lip. Elsbeth swans around Saltburn, feigning genuine care for the misfortunes of Oliver, their wayward guest Poor Dear Pamela (Carey Mulligan), and their troublesome nephew Farleigh Start (Archie Madekwe). Whatever care they extend to the occupants of Saltburn is a mere farce, a facsimile of human emotions—practiced with the same duplicitous ease as Oliver. Fennell was quite clever to set A Midsummer Night’s Dream as the theme for Oliver’s birthday, as Saltburn is one massive, merry farce—rife with jealousy, obsession, and utter confusion.
Emerald Fennell’s mind is a dizzying maze filled with wondrously horrifying and equally tempting ideas that lure you in and ensnare you forever. While the broad strokes of Saltburn may seem predictable, there is no work of art preceding it that can fully prepare you for where it is headed. With Barry Keoghan, who devours every scene he is in, his masterful and wholly unsettling performance will leave you breathless, disturbed, and desperate to see what comes next.
Final Verdict: A-
Saltburn is in theaters on November 24, 2023. Find showtimes now and watch the trailer below:
