Among England’s wealthiest class, there must be nothing more irksome or dangerous than someone who does not know their place. The landed gentry see these people, who enjoy the finer things without being born into them, as a kind of leech or remora. Saltburn, the new dark comic thriller from writer and director Emerald Fennell, is about such a person. The film’s anti-hero is a riff on a familiar character with echoes of Patricia Highsmith’s Tom Ripley and Evelyn Waugh’s Charles Ryder. But Fennell has made a different kind of period film from The Talented Mr. Ripley and Brideshead Revisited. Saltburn is an indie sleaze fantasia for older millennials that succeeds more as a character study than a thriller.
Fennell, who was born in 1985 and attended Oxford University, sets her follow-up to Promising Young Woman in a familiar milieu. Saltburn is set primarily in the summer of 2006, and the characters first meet at Oxford. Oliver Quick (Barry Keoghan) is a quiet student who yearns for acceptance from the cool kids. He is an unassuming loser, the kind you can meet several times and easily forget, and Keoghan affords him the same sad-sack qualities that made his character in The Banshees of Inisherin likable in a sad puppy way.
But through improvisation and luck, Oliver gets the attention of Felix (Jacob Elordi), his attractive and popular classmate. It does not take long for Oliver to ingratiate himself among Felix’s inner circle, and after exams, Felix invites Oliver to join him at Saltburn, his family’s massive country estate. There, he meets Felix’s parents (Rosamund Pike and Richard E. Grant) who are caricatures of aimless wealth, as well as a host of other hangers-on. Parties and excess define the summer, but Oliver finds a way to stick around even after everyone agrees he’s overstayed his welcome. It turns out Oliver has a nefarious agenda, one he barely conceals, and the film’s tension builds around whether Felix’s family will see through him in time.
Languid stretches of Saltburn are reminders of the endless summer that only the youth (at least the kind who trust they will always land on their feet) can enjoy. There is something universally appealing about looking great while lounging at the pool or indulging in a carefree approach to alcohol and party drugs. Not unlike Richard Linklater’s Boyhood, the primary way Fennell places her film in time is through pop culture. There are Ladytron and Bloc Party needle drops and a handful of other references that approximate the dates. At one point, the 2007 single version of Arcade Fire’s “No Cars Go” plays on the soundtrack despite the film taking place in 2006. Later, characters watch the 2007 film Superbad on DVD. These incongruities are fun to think about, though they do not lead to an inability to suspend disbelief since the production design and script offer plenty of immersion. This is a world Fennell knows in her bones.
At first, the film’s tension primarily involves the concept of manners and Oliver’s willingness to cut through what is unspoken at Saltburn. His mere existence is an affront to the butlers and footmen, to say nothing of how he has no sense of customs within the estate. We are on Oliver’s side for a while — how dare others make him feel bad? — but then Fennell shifts our sympathies with moments highlighting sexual obsession. No one who sees Saltburn will forget the bathtub scene or the scene involving Felix’s sister Venetia (Alison Oliver) because Oliver’s conduct in these moments represents the deepest kind of greed. He does not just want Felix’s class, he also wants his essence in ways that are both metaphorical and literal. Keoghan is a terrific young actor, and he has no trouble shifting between a doe-eyed innocent and an obsessive predator. There is a fearless, unapologetic quality to his performance that turns the supporting characters — Felix in particular —into sympathetic creatures.
Keoghan is the highlight of Saltburn, and it is unfortunate the film’s other qualities do not match his example. In terms of screenplay and formal qualities, Fennell makes some curious choices. She shoots the film in a 4:3 Academy ratio, and while some images look like FOMO Instagram posts, she does not use the constricted image to her advantage, resulting in many shots lacking a strong sense of composition. Still, the more egregious error is the extended denouement, one that overexplains Oliver’s true intentions. We already know through implication and subtext that Fennell’s anti-hero was up to no good, but she overexplains his evil plans. Throughout the film, Felix and his hapless family grow frustrated with Oliver even after they have made their feelings abundantly clear. But unlike Oliver, an obsessive leech who turns out to be a sociopath, we can take the hint.
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