‘‘Saltburn’’ explores line between obsession, love and loathing

Jacob Elordi with a pierced eyebrow is all over the internet, and that’s thanks to Emerald Fennell’s new film, “Saltburn.”

Following her 2020 hit titled “Promising Young Woman,” Fennell is back with another socialcommentary-esque film that aims to provoke—and succeeds.

It’s 2007, and Oliver Quick (Barry Keoghan) is new at Oxford University, struggling to find his footing among charming and wealthy students who seem to have the world at their fingertips. One such student is Felix Catton (Jacob Elordi), whom “everyone loves and wants to be around,” according to Oliver. After Oliver lends Felix his bike, the two strike up an unlikely friendship, which ultimately leads to Oliver staying at Felix’s estate called Saltburn.

“Saltburn” is marketed as a dramedy, but most reviews refer to it as a dark psychological thriller—and I’d have to agree. I’m not sure there’s anything funny about “Saltburn,” at least not laughably funny. It begins almost like a coming-of-age college film but quickly devolves into something much more sinister, though at first the viewer cannot decide why.

Along with the beautiful cinematography, which shines in its distorted mirror shots and painting like aspect ratios, one of the movie’s biggest strengths is that Fennell really knows how to harness suspense.

If you’ve heard anything about the movie, it’s probably that you should, capital-letter, LOOK OUT for a couple scenes and definitely not watch it with your parents. Indeed, there are four rather grotesque scenes in “Saltburn” which, in my opinion, predominantly exist to shock the viewer and subsequently keep their attention.

What’s the value of these scenes? Maybe it’s that everybody’s talking about them, which contributes to more people watching the movie. But more likely—these scenes all involve Oliver, specifically Oliver acting in a way that wasn’t previously expected.

Without spoiling too much, he is a fractured character; and it’s perhaps more realistic that we shouldn’t be able to understand, or stomach, some of his actions.

Speaking of Oliver, Keoghan’s performance was by far the best in the movie. Ewan Mitchell plays an intense Michael, whom I would’ve liked to see more of; and Alison Oliver as Venetia is at her best in her bathtub monologue. Elordi holds his own, in a surprisingly “nicer” role than what he’s used to. It’s still hard for me to imagine him as anyone other than Nate from “Euphoria”—he played those anger issues a little too well.

But Keoghan makes us root for him. His shifty sadness provokes both pity and relatability, which make his sadistic qualities a shock. Truly, we’re manipulated by him just as the Catton family is.

On another note, “Saltburn” holds a pretty obvious “eat-the-rich” social commentary, but I found it to fall flat in substance. In their ultra-wealth state, Felix and his family are far removed from the rest of society and therefore insensitive to the fate of others; yet, we are led to believe that Oliver (who is not poor himself) still finds their position desirable.

Reviewer Matt Goldberg remarked: “Whereas a film like ‘Parasite’ excels because it finds the humanity and tragedy in wealth disparity, ‘Saltburn’ is more like watching jackals fight over a carcass.” It could be argued, however, that the “wealth” Oliver is after is more about status and recognition. In the scene where the Cattons throw Oliver a birthday party, all the guests are pictured stumbling through the happy birthday song, right at the place where they should sing his name. It’s embarrassing to be so unknown, especially at an occasion where you’re supposed to be celebrated. Oliver wants the acclaim that Felix so easily has.

This made me think that the main theme of “Saltburn” relies on the way that the lines between admiration and envy can be easily blurred, as well as the lines between loving and loathing. This is a narrative I’ve especially been into lately—I recommend a book I recently read, titled “Stargazer” by Laurie Petrou, which makes a similar point.

In sum, “Saltburn” wanted to be weird, and it succeeded. Above anything, I’m surprised that a movie of this alternative nature has reached mainstream consumption. It’s probably not something I’d watch again soon, but it really kept me engaged for the time being, especially visually. With the breadth of information available to us at any given time (and by default our shrinking attention spans), I consider it an accomplishment when a story can continuously captivate an audience, in whatever lens that may be. In this case, it’s British, moodily toned and wholly startling.