At first glance, Saltburn appears to be nothing more than a high-budget compilation of Jacob Elordi’s edits. Elordi’s character, Felix Catton, a wealthy golden boy, often spends his days partying or lying lavishly in his home estate, Saltburn. Naturally, the main character Oliver Quick, a socially inept university student, is immediately drawn to Felix’s irresistible charm and suave ways, quickly falling into a pertinacious obsession. As time progresses and viewers lose count of Felix’s innumerable thirst trap shots, the lengths Oliver will go to nurture his infatuation with the Catton family become freakishly apparent. Coming in at 4.5 Falcon Stars, Saltburn combines a distinct soundtrack, featuring Sophie Ellis-Bextor’s hit “Murder on the Dance Floor,” and a nostalgic 2000’s aesthetic to create a film with a little something for everyone.
The first thing that comes to mind when the film Saltburn is mentioned is probably the infamous bathtub scene. Of course, having a field day with someone else’s bathwater is not something the average person would do, but as the scene continues, viewers sit blissfully unaware that they will be witnessing many, many more of Oliver’s contentious choices. Evident in both the bathtub scene and the grave scene, his frustration with wanting something, or in this case, someone just out of reach drives Oliver into a persistent frenzy.
Although Felix is far from the only character to fall victim to Oliver’s horrid, perverted tendencies. The Catton family often lies on the receiving end of Oliver’s exploitation. Venetia Catton, Felix’s sister, and Farleigh Start, a distant cousin, have their share of private moments with Oliver. Whether Oliver is asserting his power over Venetia—by capitalizing off her body image insecurity or weaponizing Farleigh’s attraction to gain social status, every action is backed by his all-consuming mania and hunger for dominance. His actions reveal Oliver’s crucial traits, highlighting a side of Oliver that will proceed to fabricate and manipulate to sustain the upper hand.
As each character meets their “accidental” demise, grieving, Venetia expresses her evaluation of Oliver: “I don’t think you’re a spider, you’re a moth. Quiet, harmless, drawn to shiny things, banging up against a window, and begging to get in.” In the end, Oliver is flapping his unsightly, brown wings, all around his sumptuous inherited estate, Saltburn.
Just as you can’t possibly fathom any further curveballs, director and writer Emerald Fennell ends the movie with a bang, to say the least. The first few thoughts running through your head as those credits roll may be along the lines of, “What did I just watch?” or, “Who in their right mind would have thought of this plot?” but after the initial shock, the themes of the movie become more apparent. The film has elements of Greek mythology and Shakespearean drama, creating a commentary on obsession. Saltburn is a poetic combination of intentional, spunky filming and a window into the mind of the manic.
This article also appears in our January 2024 print edition.
