Saltburn [2023]

“Is there really ever such a thing as an accident…”

From Promising Young Woman’s Emerald Fennell comes another easy entry into the Best Original Screenplay category. Saltburn is a strange movie, an uncomfortable movie, and a gross movie… but it’s one you should definitely watch. I’d most closely relate it to a less abstract The Killing of a Sacred Deer and, though I do have my qualms with certain pieces, it’s one of the best things I’ve watched in several months.

A loner and something of an outcast, Oliver Quick befriends the infinitely charming, rich, and popular Felix after a chance meeting. When a tragedy befalls Oliver’s already damaged family, Felix offers him a place at their estate, Saltburn, for the summer… but things aren’t exactly as they seem, and Oliver has plans of his very own.

Saltburn is my favorite kind of movie in the sense that it eschews typical genre trappings in favor of telling a story. It doesn’t get caught up on checking boxes generally associated with any one thing, or making sure it’s got the right mix of flavors for another; it just has a story to tell, and lets you sit and love and hate and know and loathe the players within that story. It’s wretched, it’s funny, it’s sweet, it’s depraved, and it’s exactly what it means to be when it means to be it. This is simultaneously an extremely difficult movie to recommend, because I don’t want people to think I’m “into” the shenanigans presented within the script… but also an extremely easy one to call a “must watch” of 2023. Just… maybe do it on your own.

Led by an always excellent Barry Keoghan — who’s chemistry with assisting actor Jacob Elordi is undeniably charming and genuine — it’s hard to tell if Saltburn is a romance, a drama, a horror, a comedy, or something in between. It’s a film you can’t help but laugh at because you’re so uncomfortable, but also one that will move you and make you feel for some of its softer characters. In a similar vein as 2017’s Thoroughbreds, Saltburn paints a picture of a person that you learn to hate, while tricking you into painting your own of someone you love. There’s a lot on display here and, though I highlighted only the two above, each performance is masterful in a way that reminds me of Mike Flanagan’s recent The Fall of the House of Usher; a situation where characters only get labeled as “supporting” because it’s common parlance. Part slice of life, part character drama, part satire, Saltburn is sure to leave you with a lot on your plate, and it’s all brought to life by the wonderful technical skills behind the camera.

Cinematographer Linus Sandgren [La La Land, No Time to Die, Babylon] has found an incredible stride here and uses the 4:3 aspect-ratio of the film to its fullest extent… literally. There’s a lot of intentionality behind a lot of what happens in Saltburn, but one of the most noticeable is the length to which sets are filled or emptied on screen. Most scenes fill the square frame with bits and bobs, bobbles and people, stuff and things, in a way that’s claustrophobic and forces you to look directly at what’s happening. Others are nearly empty except for the subject they depict. Both situations create a focal point that’s terribly difficult to turn away from, and there’s a very weird tension during the 2h:7m runtime of the film, despite very little of it actually being tense at all. While this is certainly owed to Keoghan’s performance in many ways, Sandgren’s approach to how the viewer is forced to experience each seen is evocative and unsettling in its own right — very similar to 2021’s Spencer. While I do think the 4:3 ratio is a little bit of a cheat [anything shot this way is instantly nostalgic and beautiful in a strange kind of way], it’s used here with an intentionality that is sure to get an Oscar nod. Couple that with the use of vibrant colors and eldritch reflections, and Saltburn is sure to quickly get very far under your skin.

I’m genuinely confused by the “good not great” ratings this film receives, because I think it deserves quite a lot of attention. It reminds me of 2022’s Triangle of Sadness in a way and, looking at both that film’s ratings and those of The Killing of a Sacred Deer, maybe that’s just how this sort of thing is received. Interesting given that this is more digestible than Deer… though I guess it is more degenerate than Sadness… Either way, don’t let the internet’s 7/10 attitude shy you away from this one. Excellent editing, clever and interesting storytelling, and a runtime which features almost no backing music at all… I think the critics just have this one wrong. Who knows, maybe it’ll be like American Psycho and get warmed up to over time.

Either way, Saltburn is the feel bad family drama of the year and you should get to watching it. It’s nasty, it’s genuine, it’s weird, and you’re going to hate almost every minute you spend with Oliver Quick and whatever the hell it is he’s up to.

“You're just turning the handle on a jack-in-a-box. Just walking towards the end of the world.”

 
Previous
Previous

Wonka [2023]

Next
Next

Blue Eye Samurai [2023]