Words by Laura Wallace Schjoett
Going to the cinema is a dying phenomenon. With endless streaming services, that provide unlimited entertainment, fewer are choosing to fork out on cinema tickets that provide only two hours of joy. Yet, if you are going to spend a fiver on any film this year, make it Saltburn (2023). Going in with zero expectations, I was blown away. For two and a half hours, I was immersed in director, Emerald FennelÔÇÖs, sensuous and boundary-pushing vision. The experience was so magical; it reminded me of why I love the cinema.
All the frothy decadence and pomp of Bridgerton, with the gritty suspense of Gone Girl (2014). The most gorgeous cinematography, that you could imagine being clipped into a Lana Del Rey music video. Shots of the hallow halls of Oxford University and the stately home of Saltburn, all wood panels and old paintings, contrasted with bursts of modernism, is a bizarrely satisfying combo.
The shots of pastel summer days, sunbathing by lakes and in golden fields, or of the illustrious gardens illuminated by moonlight, are visually stunning. The angles are clever and refreshing, such as a shot of a vomit-clad sink, with the mirror above showing the protagonist waking up in the background. This is an art film at its very best, making good use of the female gaze.
The Saltburn family are mesmerising and eccentric, all astoundingly beautiful and equipped with various attractive quirks. The film seems to poke fun at the British upper classes and the way they ÔÇ£keep calm and carry onÔÇØ, even in the most tragic of circumstances (cue one particularly erratic breakfast scene).
The film wouldnÔÇÖt be complete without Rosamund Pike, who plays Elsbeth Catton, and her fabulously unsympathetic one-liners, delivered with still-face perfection. Yes, Saltburn has butlers and stiff upper lips, but it also has whimsical Gatsby-esque parties to rival Baz LuhrmanÔÇÖs 2013 take on the Fitzgerald classic.
Sex is barely had throughout the two-hour film, yet you walk away feeling like youÔÇÖve just been present for an orgy. The tension is palpable, and you are never sure which characters it is between. One memorable scene, featuring a Minotaur statue at the centre of a maze, seems symbolic of the ultimate masculinity of Felix, played by Jacob Elordi.
The intoxicating 6 ft 5 heartthrob alone is worth watching the film for. He manages to make everyone fall in love with him, including the cinema audience, as gathered by the audible swooning that surrounded me. Known for his roles in The Kissing Booth series (2018 – 2021) and Euphoria, Elordi proves that he can also play an Oxford posh boy and deliver a pretty great English accent.
With so many provocative and at times slightly disgusting concepts, it is strange to believe this film is the vision of a female film creator. And yet, it makes sense that something which pushes the envelope couldnÔÇÖt have been produced by a well-established male producer, it is just too odd and exciting.
Emerald Fennel has cemented herself as a supremely talented director, who I expect will rise to Sofia Coppola levels of admiration. One of the most shocking moments of the film, the Wuthering Heights-esque grave scene, is both deeply uncomfortable but also refreshing in its oddity. This could be said about many of the film’s moments. *Cough, cough* vampire. *Cough cough* bathtub.
Saltburn will keep you hooked and on the edge of your seat right up until its shocking musical finale. Never have I been part of such an engaged and reactive audience. The endless gasping and laughter spoke for itself. When I went to the toilet along with half of the audience after the film was over, all I could hear were girls going ÔÇ£Wow, I loved thatÔÇØ. Yet I also heard this from the moustache-clad lads in the row behind. This movie will appeal to all genders but may shock the oldies a tad.
