Being wealthy in Saltburn is highly desirable and attractive.
Charlotte Higgins
The concept of class conflict is irrelevant to Saltburn. The town only values social hierarchy as a means to depict wealthy, aristocratic individuals with luxurious estates as alluringly devious and alluring. They are the irresistible flame that a lowly moth, even one with destructive abilities, cannot resist.
While wealth and physical attractiveness may not necessarily equate to happiness or morality in Saltburn’s society, they certainly make one stand out as intriguing and alluring. In Emerald Fennell’s film, there are only two morally upright characters, and attending a party thrown by them would not be desirable.
Don’t try to deny it: you definitely want to attend a party where Richard E Grant is dressed up and the gardens are illuminated with beautiful lights, and there’s a charming man walking around wearing stag horns. Saltburn, as an art installation, fully embraces its own Brideshead-esque atmosphere and even references Waugh in its opening scenes.
The novel Brideshead Revisited was written by an author who had the ability to depict both longing and satire when it came to the details of grandeur. This was possible because the author was not naturally born into a life of luxury. The viewpoint of Saltburn, despite being narrated by someone who is not of the upper class, reflects the carefree and nonchalant attitudes of the English upper classes. Essentially, this means that the novel could only have been written by a highly privileged British individual with a deep understanding of grandness.
Saltburn is objectionable, I suppose, in that and several other ways I could enumerate – but it is also terribly enjoyable. Emerald Fennell’s sheer pleasure in things and objects and bodies is seductive: drops of sweat on the neck of a lovely young man, a Bernard Palissy dish, a sheet of golden hair let loose and just barely dipping into a lily pond on a hot English day, even the spatter of vomit on a wall after an overindulgent party. She clearly loves invoking desire and disgust.
In my various WhatsApp conversations about this movie, Saltburn is known for its memorable and exaggerated moments, referred to as “the scenes”. These scenes are both provocative and uncomfortable, leading to discussions about their importance to the plot. However, the film relies heavily on these moments and would not be the same without them, as it embraces their sensational nature. During a screening I attended, “the scenes” caused the entire audience to erupt into laughter. With so much happening in the world, it’s important to find joy in whatever moments we can.
The movie sees the entire history of English gothic country homes as a large box of costumes to be eagerly explored. It appears to exclaim, “See! Here is Daphne Du Maurier! Here is MR James! Here is Emily Brontë!” This approach lacks subtlety. For a more delicate and nuanced take on this subject, check out Joanna Hogg’s The Eternal Daughter, which also tackles the complicated relationships of wealthy individuals in grand country homes.
Fennell has infused her story with excessive and haphazard extravagance, referencing Kubrick’s work (such as opulent candlelit dinners reminiscent of Barry Lyndon and quotes from The Shining). She boldly and recklessly embraces various genres, colliding with LP Hartley and bouncing off Kind Hearts and Coronets. The result is incredibly silly, yet also immensely enjoyable – albeit slightly risqué.
“I have never desired to be incredibly wealthy, but I do currently.”
Rupert Neate
I used to have no interest in attending an Oxbridge university, but then I discovered Saltburn. Despite covering the extravagant lifestyles of the world’s wealthiest individuals for seven years, I never truly desired to be incredibly rich. However, after seeing Saltburn, I am now incredibly eager to achieve that level of wealth. She portrays both Oxford and affluence as incredibly enjoyable and exciting.
Despite their vast fortunes, the uber-rich people I’ve met never seemed very happy. Worry about keeping their fortune safe – and away from the taxman – has led many of them to decamp from say Chelsea, South Kensington or the Upper West Side to distinctly more boring places like Monaco, Liechtenstein or St Lucia. Less fun, but crucial, there are little or no taxes of any kind (except VAT).
The affluent Saltburn family resides not in a tax shelter, but in a sprawling grand residence located somewhere in the English countryside. Although the exact location is not specified in the film, it was shot at Drayton House in Northamptonshire, a historic mansion with 127 rooms and a grade-I listing. The estate dates back to the 1300s and has been owned by the Stopford Sackville family since the 1770s.
Disregard the names of actors Jacob Elordi, Barry Keoghan, Rosamund Pike and Carey Mulligan. While the entire cast is attractive, the true standout of the film is Drayton House. Its breathtaking beauty is showcased through extensive shots of its magnificent staircases and expansive square pond, possibly even more so than the actors themselves (I did not keep track, so please feel free to correct me).
As soon as I exited the movie theater, I searched on Google for “Saltburn film house location open day”. Unlike my friend, who questioned if the last scene was truly him.
According to my search, Drayton House is open for visits on Wednesdays from Easter to September. I have already scheduled time off work for Wednesday, April 3rd. Looking forward to seeing you there.
Each character exudes a genuine sense of wealth: a blend of inherited riches and a desire to maintain a progressive image and stay in touch with contemporary society.
When Felix Catton (Elordi) brings his new friend, Oliver Quick (Keoghan), who is not as wealthy, home for the holidays to Saltburn, we are introduced to Sir James (Richard E Grant). As the head of the family and Felix’s father, it is evident from Grant’s hair that the Cattons are a wealthy family.
Drayton House boasts 127 rooms, yet the majority of the film is set in a single room: a poorly furnished TV room that would surely catch the attention of Gogglebox producers. The room exudes a genuine sense of disrepair, perfectly complementing Grant’s character who remains distant and detached.
The movie could serve as a promotional tool for Oxford University. It is visually appealing and enjoyable. The students from lower socio-economic backgrounds, such as Oliver, are portrayed poorly by their wealthier peers, despite data indicating that by the early 2000s, there were actually more students from state schools attending Oxford than those from private schools.
Some have criticized the film for this aspect. However, I see it as a genuine portrayal of reality that deserves to be shared with a larger audience, rather than censored for the sake of not offending anyone. Additionally, Oliver ultimately gets the final victory over the wealthy individuals.
I was hesitant about joining a community filled with wealthy and elite individuals, which is why I had no desire to attend Oxford or Cambridge. However, if I had realized that, with some cleverness, someone from a comprehensive school like Oliver or myself (yes, I am aware my name is Rupert but I am not from a wealthy background, I promise) could use it as a means to enter the world of the rich and acquire their wealth, I may have reconsidered my Ucas options.
Emerald Fennell has a strong dislike for the middle classes.
Daniel Lavelle
The concept of social class and where I belong has been a source of constant confusion for me throughout my life. My grandparents, who were working-class, were able to move up the social hierarchy after becoming schoolteachers. My mother received an education at a prestigious preparatory school where my grandfather worked, and my father is a lawyer and part-time judge. These factors place me in the middle-class category. However, I also experienced poverty during my early years and spent my teenage years in foster care. I have lived in low-income housing in some of the most disadvantaged areas in the country and have struggled financially for most of my adult life. These experiences could also classify me as working-class. Therefore, I find myself in a state of limbo, not fitting into any specific class but rather belonging to both and neither at the same time.
Although Saltburn heightened my confusion about social class, one thing remains clear: writer-director Emerald Fennell has a strong dislike for the middle classes.
Oliver is a new student in his first year at Oxford University. He becomes friends with Felix, a charming and attractive person from a wealthy family, and manipulates his way into his close group of friends by telling him a sad story.
Oliver presents himself as a boy from a working-class background in Merseyside, despite being firmly middle class. This is similar to the other characters created by Fennel, who also portray themselves as caricatures. Oliver’s persona is that of a clever and introverted young man from a troubled, drug-addled, and dysfunctional family – which is a common stereotype associated with the working class.
Oliver informs Felix that his father has passed away, allowing him to visit Felix’s family estate for the summer vacation. The wealthy elite in this movie are just as superficial as the impoverished persona that Oliver has adopted. The pretentious group of individuals in the film hold prestigious titles, reside in grand manors with devoted servants, and exhibit either extreme snobbery like Farleigh Start (played by Archie Madekwe) or condescending kindness like Felix.
When Oliver visits Felix’s grand estate for the summer, these exaggerated depictions become intensified. Lady Elspeth (portrayed by Rosamund Pike) is portrayed as so shallow that she is unaware of Liverpool’s location. “Is it a coastal city?” she inquires upon meeting Oliver.
Unfortunately, Oliver’s plan is ruined when Felix offers to take him back to Liverpool to make amends with his grieving, intoxicated mother. It turns out that Oliver is actually quite wealthy and embodies the upper class, living in a comfortable, suburban home with a well-maintained lawn and unimpressive artwork. The color scheme is bland and uninspired.
Oliver’s greatest error was being beige. Felix initially viewed the small and plump “Ollie” as a mischievous pet, but the middle class is a vague and indistinguishable group. They lack a distinct identity and, in Oliver’s situation, a unique personality.
“It accurately portrays the alluring yet harmful indulgence of 2000s culture.”
Jess Cartner-Morley
Saltburn is a playful movie that cleverly highlights the small pleasures and common cruelties of everyday life. It satirizes the quirks of the wealthy English elite, from their obsession with dressing up and taking baths to their fondness for lounging in robes, going on picnics, and reminiscing about their school days. The film also pokes fun at the outdated mindset of the upper class, where everyone adopts old-fashioned manners at the breakfast table, despite singing modern songs like Flo Rida’s “Low” at karaoke and taking drugs to the tune of MGMT’s “Time to Pretend” just a few hours prior.
The unwritten guidelines and hidden traps that await those who step outside their designated role are described in great detail. During his first year at Oxford, undergraduate Oliver wears a striped college scarf, hoping to fit in. It is painful to witness as the audience can immediately see that it will have the opposite effect, making him stand out as someone trying too hard in a world where those with privilege use it cruelly against outsiders. There is a cringe-worthy scene where Oliver is publicly shamed for the sleeves of his rented tuxedo being too long. Fennell, herself a product of “grotesque privilege” as the daughter of a society jeweler and educated at Marlborough, portrays this beautifully. A specific type of upper-class Englishman can go on for hours about the precise ratio of shirt to jacket sleeve length, if given the chance.
However, Saltburn does not revolve solely around social class, as the trailer may suggest. The majority of the events take place in 2006 and 2007, and the film accurately portrays the alluring yet destructive indulgence of noughties culture. The girls don sparkly party dresses from TopShop’s prime years and accessorize with feather boas, while the boys sport popped collars on their rugby shirts and Livestrong rubber bracelets – souvenirs from a time where Lance Armstrong was seen as a hero. Rosamund Pike shines in her role as the elegant and sophisticated Elspeth, a well-known socialite who appears somewhat surprised to be living in the 21st century. With her slender figure and chiseled cheekbones, Elspeth embodies the dangerous obsession with being thin during the era, jokingly brushing off her daughter’s eating disorder as “fingers for pudding.”
It takes several decades for a particular fashion trend to become nostalgic and enjoyable. The 2000s are still too recent for this to happen. There are some stunning garments in Saltburn, including pieces from the fashion shows of Christopher Kane and Alexander McQueen during that time. However, the movie purposely mixes high-end fashion references from the era (such as those of Kate Moss, Amy Winehouse, Sienna Miller, Lily Allen, Daphne Guinness, and Isabella Blow) with less desirable ones (some partygoers resemble those from the Prince Harry and Chelsy Davy fashion book). As a film, it may not be the most comfortable experience, much like wearing a Miss Selfridge corset dress and cheap platform heels. But, just like the outfit, it’s worth it for a fun night out, isn’t it?
Saltburn’s goal is to poke fun at the lack of proper etiquette among middle-class individuals in rural estates.
Sirin Kale
I thoroughly enjoyed watching Saltburn until the very end and did not feel bored, which is uncommon for most films. The visuals were stunning and Rosamund Pike’s performance was outstanding. In a time where popular media is constantly being adapted from existing sources, it was refreshing to watch a film that was not based on a successful podcast or novel. However, the more I reflected on the film, the more annoyed I became.
My main issue with Saltburn, and the one I keep coming back to, is its purpose. The writer, director, and producer Emerald Fennell may argue that it is satire, particularly regarding class. While this may explain the lack of depth in its characters and the self-satisfied transgressive nature of the film, such as characters drinking each other’s semen-infused bathwater, performing oral sex on menstruating women, and engaging in sexual acts at a freshly dug grave, it does not justify it.
Is Fennell’s satirical message that being part of the upper class is desirable, but they should refrain from vulnerability towards those trying to usurp their position? Or is the message that we should support middle-class individuals in their violent pursuit of joining the upper class? If that is the case, why are the upper-class characters depicted as unpleasant? Who would willingly associate with such individuals?
Honestly, I am unsure of the purpose of Saltburn, aside from using inside jokes to poke fun at the lack of etiquette in wealthy individuals at country estates. These jokes may seem slightly harsh when one takes into account Fennell’s privileged upbringing and background.
Emerald Fennell is an Oxford University English literature graduate, so she’ll understand the reference I’m about to make: in Jonathan Swift’s 1729 satirical essay A Modest Proposal, Swift suggests that the Irish poor sell their babies to be cooked and eaten by wealthy ladies and gentlemen as a way of ameliorating their economic situation. It’s appalling, but there’s a deeper meaning: Swift uses satire to underscore the heartlessness of British policy towards the Irish. But without a purpose, satire is just pointless provocation.
The movie repeatedly shows the characters spending their entire day reading Harry Potter, even though they have a large collection of first editions available. However, Harry Potter symbolizes the idea of friends becoming like family and standing up for what is right. The town of Saltburn doesn’t seem to have a clear message, it simply enjoys shocking others. I can tolerate excessive amounts of bodily fluids and inappropriate behavior if there is a purpose behind it, but I cannot forgive meaningless shock value.
“If you scratch the surface, the gold layer starts to chip away like a cheap souvenir from a tourist shop.”
Gwilym Mumford
Do not scrutinize Saltburn too closely, Emerald Fennell’s melodramatic story of social classes and desires. At a glance, it may seem like a well-crafted film. It follows Netflix’s approach of creating “gourmet cheeseburgers,” which are both irresistibly satisfying and expertly produced.
The cultural references in this film, drawing from Waugh, Highsmith, and HBO’s Euphoria, are spot on. The visuals are also impressive, thanks to cinematographer Linus Sandgren’s use of bold colors to portray the elegance of old money. The cast, especially Rosamund Pike, clearly enjoy delivering the juicy dialogue. However, the film’s runtime is excessive – did we really need so many minutes of Barry Keoghan drinking milky bathwater or endless shots of cocaine being snorted in slow motion to the tune of “Time to Pretend”? Despite this, the film maintains a steady pace and adds a touch of edginess whenever the story slows down.
What is the issue? My concerns about Saltburn arise when I left the cinema, the happy feeling from its 00s music faded, and I began to contemplate the disturbing events I had just watched. What was the message behind the various themes – money, social status, desire, sexuality, family, and briefly, race – that were crammed into the film? Did any of its unexpected twists make any logical sense? Upon closer examination, the glamor of the film starts to fade away like a cheap souvenir.
Discussing the major mistakes made by Saltburn without revealing spoilers is difficult. However, those who have already watched the film may have noticed the journey of Keoghan’s character, Oliver, from a lower-class worker to a manipulative mastermind similar to Tom Ripley. This transformation is both predictable and confusing. It is unclear whether Oliver wants to climb the social ladder or destroy those in the upper class. His motivations, whether driven by desire, resentment, or psychopathy, are also unclear to both him and the audience. The film’s big reveal is accompanied by a dramatic montage, which feels unnecessary and only serves to highlight plot holes that were already apparent.
Fennell, heiress to a jewelry empire, may seem like she would have a better understanding of the wealthy characters in the film, but that is not the case. Saltburn is unsure whether the elite residents of the titular mansion are charmingly corrupt, trapped songbirds, or careless individuals like Tom and Daisy Buchanan. In the end, the audience can’t help but feel sorry for them as their generosity is met with cruelty. This makes Saltburn a rare drama that sympathizes with the wealthy rather than the less fortunate.
Although Saltburn may not have a clear storyline or theme, it compensates with its ability to shock the audience. Every 20 minutes, without fail, there is a new shocking event that captures attention. However, even these moments become less impactful as the film progresses. By the time the final shocking moment, which Fennell has been building up to for over two hours, occurs, the audience may feel tired and unimpressed, having already been overwhelmed by the constant depravity. This issue can be likened to eating too many gourmet cheeseburgers – eventually, they may just make you feel a bit queasy.
Source: theguardian.com
