Saltburn: The Pitfalls of an Aesthetic Movie

“Saltburn,” the new film from director Emerald Fennell, is decidedly disturbing, but viewers will find it impossible to look away due to the perfect construction of every shot. The film’s aesthetic, primed for TikTok virality, is delectable in small bites. However, because Fennell seemingly pours so much attention into the aesthetics, the message of the film gets lost, resulting in a myriad of underdeveloped plot threads.

The aesthetic components of the film evoke a quality of vivid nostalgia, as though siphoned from a memory of a not-so-bygone time. Shot on 35mm film, the shadows swim with grain. Rich, saturated colors blossom despite the film’s darker undertones. Noiresque lighting graces actors’ faces in the way of old Hollywood stars. Colored lighting animates high-intensity scenes, particularly the birthday party, draped in a blood-red ambiance. The intimate aspect ratio pulls the audience’s attention towards the center of the screen, urging them to look closer.

Even in the most abhorrent moments, Fennell frames the content perfectly, clearly showcasing a technical mastery also present in her 2020 directorial debut “Promising Young Woman.” The coexistence between gorgeous visuals and sinister subject matter lays the foundation for both films. Fennell’s strategy is not unlike catching a fish, dangling the bait of a beautiful exterior, and then ensnaring the audience with a violent plot, each twist more disturbing than the last.

These aesthetic components are undeniably alluring, yet an inattention to more substantive, story-related content plagues the film. Obsession drives the heart of the plot, which follows Oliver Quick (Barry Keoghan) and his delusional fascination with Felix Catton (Jacob Elordi), whom he meets during his first year at Oxford. The relationship between the two boys, ultimately, remains underdeveloped. Elordi delivers an undeniably charismatic performance of a rather dull and uninteresting character. In this way, Quick’s obsession with Catton reads as slightly insincere; there’s no real reason provided for infatuation aside from Elordi’s good looks and an undercooked fetishization of his high status. The tension present in their interactions remains unfulfilled; Fennell pushes the homoerotic schoolboy aesthetic only until a certain point, then relinquishes the eroticism. In this way, the film teases at ulterior readings, even utilizing an aesthetic to draw in an audience with false promises.

One of the most noticeably incomplete elements of the film is its faux-class commentary. In the last act, Fennell lets the psychological thriller genre take the reins, allowing physical disgust to replace dissatisfaction with more abstract, systemic forces of inequality that seem to be the focus of the movie’s earlier acts. In the halls of Oxford and the fields of the English countryside, Fennell showcases class conflict, places it on a platter (literally, in its copious meal scenes), and then leaves it alone. This move leaves one wondering– what was the point?

This film uncovers a fragile line to tow between self-conscious satire about class and an actual fascination with the plushness of aristocracy. The karaoke scene seems to mock the malevolence of the upper class, like a circus of the self-interested, yet opulence claims an inordinate amount of screentime for its own sake. Any lasting commentary remains suspiciously absent, except for a few striking quips (or painfully expository monologues) from the eccentric, wealthy characters that roam around their grand estate.

Fennel’s characterization of Quick convolutes the film, depicting a triumph over high society that feels eerily unlike a real victory, just for the sake of a plot twist. At the outset, “Saltburn,” captures the uneasy sensation of the desire to belong, a universal strife, before forcing a reckoning with cinema’s ability to engender empathy for unworthy subjects. Keoghan radiates this discomfort as a first-year student at Oxford, a stranger to the Saltburn estate. His performance is captivating, even mischievous; he carries the film with his trickery. Yet, the quasi-revenge arc for a not entirely likable, not entirely hateable character leaves the film in limbo, trapped within the purview of gorgeous lighting, sets, and people. Through the lens of this character, Fennell creates an unreliable narrator, even if only compelling in his otherworldly strangeness.

The disappointing inattention to substantive content is a shocking pivot from Fennell’s directorial debut with “Promising Young Woman,” where she proved that she is capable of developing both beautiful aesthetics and a compelling message.

As a thing to watch, “Saltburn,” at the end of the day, is an aesthetic masterpiece. The film is made for perfect stills, its shiny surface caught in a directionless stagnancy. As a vehicle for drawing out thought-provoking questions, “Saltburn” falls short.

—Staff writer Sophia S. Pasalis can be reached at sophiapasalis@thecrimson.com.