Trust the writer/director of 2020’s Promising Young Woman to follow that with an even edgier premise.
Emerald Fennell has concocted a truly unsettling story, populated by cheerfully mean-spirited characters: a horrifying brew of envy, greed and poisonous privilege.
Having achieved his goal of getting closer to the charismatic Felix (Jacob Elordi, center),
Oliver (Barry Keoghan) soon learns all manner of things about Felix's sister Venetia
(Alison Oliver) and the rest of their family.
The result is mesmerizing, in a macabre way ... although you’ll likely feel guilty — and dirty — the following morning.
English boarding schools have been the setting of class-based horror stories ever since Thomas Hughes wrote Tom Brown’s School Days back in 1857. The formula remains unchanged, although modern tastes have allowed the depiction of increasingly deplorable behavior.
The year is 2006. Oliver Quick (Barry Keoghan) begins a term at Oxford as a working-class fish out of water, wholly unable to blend with the university’s predominantly wealthy, entitled young men and women. He’s singled out by another outlier, Michael Gavey (Ewan Mitchell), a nerdy math savant, but this “friendship” isn’t destined to last long; Michael is pushy and much too intense.
Oliver instead longs to bond with the charismatic and immensely popular Felix Catton (Jacob Elordi), but the class divide seems insurmountable. Even when fate grants Oliver a chance to do Felix a much-needed favor, the latter is unable to repay the gesture with inclusion in his circle of friends.
“He’s a scholarship student,” one contemptuous girl snaps, putting dismissive emphasis on the descriptor. “He probably buys his clothes at Oxfam.”
Oliver overhears this.
His anguish is palpable; Keoghan’s expression and bearing are beyond woebegone. His slumped posture feels utterly lost, misery hovering over him like a dark cloud. We must remember that he was nominated for a well-deserved Supporting Actor Oscar, for his heartbreaking performance as the abused son of the local Garda, in 2022’s The Banshees of Inisherin (and he was one of the best parts of that film).
Felix actually isn’t as contemptible as most of his peers; we can see, in Elordi’s eyes, that his sympathy is rising. He finally punches through his clique’s intolerance and gets Oliver a seat at their cherished pub table, but that almost proves worse; the younger man now is overwhelmed by his unfamiliarity with unspoken “rules” and mocking “politeness.”
Much of that comes from Felix’s American cousin Farleigh (Archie Madekwe), who makes no attempt to hide his snobbery (totally ironic, once we learn more about him ... but his attitude also makes perfect sense).
Toward the end of term, when a family crisis rips Oliver’s world apart, Felix impulsively invites him to spend the summer at his family’s estate, Saltburn ... much to Farleigh’s annoyance, who fancied himself the sole guest.
Oliver’s first glimpse of Saltburn takes his breath away (and ours); the enormous place would look right at home in Downton Abbey. Cinematographer Linus Sandgren has fun with sweeping overviews of buildings and lands, and of course there’s also a large hedge maze. Once inside, the camerawork turns into a carnival ride through long corridors and hallways, as a lengthy tracking shot swiftly follows Felix’s hasty identification of each room, with a goggle-eyed Oliver at his heels.
The interior seems frozen in some long-ago time, laden with period furniture and a mildly gothic atmosphere heightened by composer Anthony Willis’ thunderous organ touches.
Oliver is overjoyed, his expression blissed out: He has made it.
Sadly ... no.
Indeed, he already has miscalculated, by arriving via an early train; Duncan (Paul Rhys, truly terrifying), the estate’s icy butler, coldly informs the boy that a carriage was waiting to collect him at the arranged time.
Felix’s parents are a case study in eccentricity. The excitable Sir James (Richard E. Grant) constantly holds forth about nothing in particular; his wife Elspeth (Rosamund Pike) overstates her concern about Oliver’s comfort level, treating him like a puppy. Felix’s hard-partying sister Venetia (Alison Oliver) is a lost soul who clearly couldn’t cope with her upbringing.
“She’s too beautiful,” her mother interjects, as if by explanation.
We abruptly think, My God, these people will eat Oliver alive.
He isn’t the only victim. As the days pass, it becomes clear that another longtime guest has overstayed her welcome: “Poor Dear Pamela” (Carey Mulligan), as Elspeth constantly calls her. Mulligan is all but unrecognized beneath wild hair, improbable outfits and body art, and her every move makes Pamela look like damaged goods.
Sir James and Elsbeth want her gone, but they’re too “polite” to be direct, so instead they resort to passive/aggressive tactics. When Pamela suggests that perhaps it is time to move on, Elsbeth quickly replies, “But only if you’re really ready.”
They’re all monsters.
As the initial days pass, nothing challenges that assumption. Oliver is confronted constantly by innuendo and mildly taunting challenges; he gamely does his best to rise to each occasion. He also learns, from a passing comment, that Felix has made a habit of bringing “strays” home for the summer, which stings further; is he just some sort of project?
Then the dynamic begins to shift: subtly, with a sinister twist.
And saying anything else would spoil the provocative care with which Fennell develops her second and third acts.
Sandgren also spends considerable time on close-ups, particularly of Keoghan. I’ve often complained about this gimmick as the hallmark of lazy directors, but Fennell knows precisely what she’s doing; her actors respond to these moments with nuances and subtle changes of expression that speak volumes. It’s particularly important in Keoghan’s case, as Oliver navigates each new day.
Grant’s Sir James is an overblown Gilbert & Sullivan parody; we almost expect him to burst into a theme song. (One wonders how he fills his days.) Elsbeth, in contrast, seems a genuinely compassionate soul, although good intentions get scrambled by her reflexively aristocratic manner. She also seems overly trusting and easily deceived; Pike’s performance is marvelously nuanced.
Madekwe’s Farleigh is a contemptible cad, thoroughly deserving of our hatred. Venetia feels like a fragile porcelain doll who, if shattered, never could be reassembled.
The more we learn about all these people, as Oliver sinks ever deeper into their world, the more horrifying everything becomes.
It’s also important, at the outset, to remember that this saga — definitely a mystery — is being narrated by one of the participants. And who’s the listener?
Fennell’s new film definitely isn’t for the squeamish or easily offended, but viewers who can find the dark-dark-darkhumor in this depraved exercise are likely to be spellbound.
It’ll be hard for Fennell to top this one ... and I’m not sure I want her to try.
2 comments:
One review I read said "It is a one way trip down a depression hole." I got no sense from this fascinating revew of yours that it is sad. What am I missing. If you recommend somethiing I watch it!
Sad? Absolutely not. Deranged is far closer to the mark. I suppose one could be depressed by the depiction of so much depravity ... but that's only if it's taken seriously.
Post a Comment