Writer-director Emerald Fennell has made a beast of a film with “Saltburn.” I get why the haters came out in full swing after its Telluride premiere in early September. A big chunk of the complaints revolved around the ending, which doesn’t work, and how it has nothing new to say — it doesn’t — but, for all of its shallow artifice and over the top theatrics, “Saltburn” entertains, in spades.
It’s a social satire, an obvious one, with easy targets. The titular estate emphasizes the privilege that comes with the property. Lady Elspeth Catton (Rosamund Pike) and her husband Sir James (Richard E. Grant) live far away from the rest of society with their children, Felix (Jacob Elordi) and Venetia (Alison Oliver), who invite friends over each summer to soak up the Saltburn sun.
Fennell’s story is seen through the eyes of Barry Keoghan’s Oliver Quick, invited by Felix, his new friend at Oxford. The obsession Oliver quickly develops for Felix, not necessarily of the romantic kind, or so he claims as the narrator, is reminiscent of Matt Damon’s portrayal of Tom Ripley.
Oliver, an eccentric loner, somehow manipulates Felix into taking him in as a friend. The invite to Saltburn, the rapprochement with the Catton family, serves as his entrance to high society. We, the audience, know very well what Oliver’s devious intentions are as he slowly inches his way up the Saltburn hierarchy by flattering the matriarch (a wonderful Rosamund Pike) with compliments, as well as sexually arousing Felix’s sister, Venetia, in a menstrual sex scene that needs to be seen to be believed.
That’s the thing with Fennell, she wants to push buttons, and there are plenty pushed here. Her characters are almost all liars, manipulators, egotists; They won’t even blink if they want to get rid of a friend or family member — there is no soul to narcissism.
For all of its over the top extravagances, and clunky twists, “Saltburn” does comes to life, many times, as Oliver continuously manipulates his way into Felix’s heart. Only Felix’s best friend, Farleigh (Archie Madekwe), starts to suspect that something is very off with our protagonist.
If you’re looking for substance in “Saltburn” then look elsewhere. Much like Fennell’s “Promising Young Woman,” this film can feel more like an exercise in style over substance, but it’s a far more entertaining one and takes more risks, some of which do pay off. It helps that the film’s dreamlike qualities are further enhanced by “La La Land” cinematographer Linus Sandgren’s colourful palettes.
Keoghan, who is slowly but surely turning into A-list acting talent, tackles his character head-on, a nasty mind covered up by a costume of innocence. It’s fearless work on his part — he never truly lets the audience like his Oliver, and why should they? Oliver is just as morally bankrupt, if not more so, than his more privileged counterparts.
Unfortunately, “Saltburn,” much like “Promising Young Woman,” isn’t subtle. Fennell can’t help herself. There needs to be a grandiose conclusion and she decides to give us a wobbly ending, filled with twists, that convolutes instead of provoke. As we learned from “Promising Young Woman,” subtlety is not Fennell’s forte.
Still, despite its flaws, “Saltburn,” in theaters this Friday, constantly entertains. It revels in the hollowness of human nature. I dug its pessimism and lurid pop fantasies. It all amounts to a guilty pleasure, one filled with these impeccably realized moments that take immense pleasure in the orgiastic excess. [B]