It’s murder in the comment section, and you better not kill the groove. Saltburn is the divisive wunderkind of 2023 written and directed by Emerald Fennell of Academy Award-winning Promising Young Woman. The film stars Euphoria heartthrob Jacob Elordi opposite Barry Keoghan, who you might recognize from Banshees of Inisherin or massacring spaghetti in Killing Of A Sacred Deer. The film tells the tale of a young man, Oliver Quick (Keoghan), who fosters an obsession with his Oxford classmate Felix Catton (Elordi), spending the summer at Felix’s family estate: the titular Saltburn.
I’ve seen Saltburn four times (twice in theaters, twice from the comfort of my laptop) and it currently perches in my Letterboxd top four. My first impression was that it was a twisted take on The Talented Mr. Ripley, and I was certain it was destined to be a flop. To my surprise, a guerilla movement on TikTok reacting to those scenes turned it into a must-watch when it dropped on Amazon Prime. The explosion of popularity shocked me, but this indicates the changing landscape of the movie market.
Saltburn is popular, but every aspect of it is up for debate: genre, quality, and shock value are topics you’ll find a slew of TikToks about. In 2023, it seemed clear that A24 reigned supreme, and Gen Z loves that type of stuff. It heartens me that when people get tired of Marvel and streaming slop, they turn to the most available “weird” movie. We can all agree that media literacy is at an all-time low, and the public reputation of Saltburn flounders because of it. When the masses turn to an indie-ish flick, they can’t pin it down. Like any language, cinema has its dialects and rules–more complex than what’s typically on the front page of Amazon Prime Video. Throw in morally gray characters, queer themes, class commentary, and symbolism stacked on symbolism into the cultural blender; you’re going to get mixed opinions. That’s why Saltburn often gets boiled down to bathwater.
Beyond all the pomp and circumstance, Saltburn seems to know what it is. Fennell seems self-aware in her decadence, smashing together the country-house homoeroticism of Brideshead Revisited and early-aughts sleaze. With luscious cinematography, a razor-sharp script, and meaty performances from the whole cast, it’s hard to argue that this is poorly made. It’s style over substance, but with a story that reveals the banality of the ultra-wealthy, I can’t see that being a flaw. Around every corner are self-deprecating winks to the audience. If you’re looking for depth, it’s there too: allusions to Greek myth, Shakespearean symbolism, careful use of gothic tropes. Meanwhile, it also includes Superbad (2007). With all it encompasses, it barely develops its scant class commentary or other grasps at a social message. With all the theatrics, it often edges over the line into self-indulgence and obviousness. Barry Keoghan gives one of the most entertaining performances of 2023 as Oliver Quick, slowly transforming from a soft-spoken dork to an erotic mastermind. Jacob Elordi cloaks Felix Catton in charisma so thick we can’t see the forest for the douchebaggery. All of this is delivered with pitch-black, bone-dry comedy and theatrics.
Saltburn is so attuned to my taste, that it’s insane to imagine someone else created it. Queerness is handled matter-of-factly. It’s not interesting that Oliver is bisexual, but it’s fascinating when that queer character is a murderous, grave-humping, pathological liar. Oliver’s depravity and personality overshadow his queerness, and that makes it feel like a natural representation: be gay, do crime. Not to mention how stunning the whole film looks, from the production design to the costuming to the cinematography, all provide the romantic point of view from Oliver—no matter how unsavory the details get. And I will always believe that great music supervision and score can turn a great movie into an unforgettable one.
After many rewatches of Saltburn, it’s clear to me what the DNA of the film is. We have pretty pictures, Jacob Elordi’s beautiful face, a banger soundtrack, full frontal male nudity, sex, death, violence, grotesque, Jacob Elordi’s beautiful face, and quips for days. To me, this radiates nothing but fun. We may be used to mega-budget, super-slick simulation rides, but this type of fun is different. A little grimier, a little sexier, a little queerer–and yes–a little more pretentious. But what else is new? Perhaps Emerald Fennell’s M.O. is starting a conversation without her movies having to say much of anything at all. I give Saltburn 3.5 stars, but it will always get 5 in my gay, little, drain-licking heart.
Connor Stanford is a Junior Theatre Studies major who strives to own every single piece of Saltburn merch ever made. They can be reached at [email protected] .