Saltburn (2023)

Obviously spoilers

Seen at Dundee Contemporary Arts
Wed, 21 Nov 2023, 8:15 pm

Finally, something sexy. And by sexy I mean filthy. We need more filthiness in movies.

I remember being roused enough to defend Promising Young Woman years ago, in private with friends and on one informal Zoom discussion with strangers, impelled by the disdain of people towards Emerald Fennell’s icky resolution to Cassie’s story. I agree that the end is a horrible gimmick, but it’s too deranged to be taken seriously. (Yes, these things happen to women. Yes, I am not a woman so my insensitive take is invalid. But Emerald. . . isn’t she a . . .? Representation politics can be such a tiring game with little rewards so let’s not do it.)

I don’t think Promising Young Woman is a great film, but conceit is one of the reasons we enjoy movies. The strain. The juvenile mistakes. The fancy amid the serious theme. (Sometimes I think her movies are not even depraved enough.) I see the merit of its dangerousness, and the pulpy material is thrilling for its nastiness. It’s sick, not very profound but not without its sharpness either. It has bad elements, but it’s not a bad film at all. It suffers from being reduced to one type of reading, aggravated by the statements made by Fennell herself during interviews. Which makes it an endless conversation. I’ve long wondered about this strange phenomenon of audiences expecting movies to align with their moral values and perhaps it’s part of how the art form evolves. (Movies shaping society, society shaping movies, etc.)

These are the same things I’ll say about Saltburn, which is in a similar vein technically and ideologically. This Emerald girl is not going away soon with her sick ideas. From time to time we’ll have a director who appeals to a wide audience and whose work and cultural presence we might find utterly questionable. Imagine winning an Oscar for your first film? It’s like being in one of her movies! (At DCA, there’s a cork board where moviegoers can write their quick thoughts on the films they just saw and Saltburn obviously got the most extreme responses—people were compelled to write. I notice that it speaks a lot to young people who might not have seen a lot of diverse movies. Not a shade! We always start somewhere. I wrote there that Saltburn is the kind of thesis film that gets made because the student’s parents have a lot of money and resources, lol. And teachers will be impressed and take credit for it.)

Saltburn is problematic, clichéd, twist-driven, but like I said sexy and filthy—which means I find it downright irresistible. When people online bring up Pasolini, I just have to scream. Let’s be serious for once! At some point the film loses steam, when you already know where it’s going, but the build up is fun especially if you don’t think much about it. Fennell is good at moments. She can use a paintbrush but a palette confounds her. What do I do with this? She’s smart, but not all the time. You depend on her mostly for perversion. Barry Keoghan licking the drain of the bath tub for Jacob Elordi’s cum is unforgettable. I can still hear the slurp. I know it’s fiction but I also wish I was there. Well, there goes that dream. The entire film is a showcase of Barry’s talents—dancing with his cock swinging is one—and I’m here for that. The Barry of The Killing of a Sacred Deer and The Banshees of Inisherin in full glory. My friends and I talk about who could play Oliver in a local version, and the right answer is Dylan Ray Talon. Look him up. [Donny Pangilinan (tall) as Jacob Elordi and Maricel Laxa (literal mom) as Rosamund Pike? Any suggestions?]

There’s a tinge of disappointment when Felix dies because you want them to have sex and consummate whatever is on your dirty mind. The film doesn’t go there but Barry fucking the grave isn’t a bad alternative. This is how Fennell’s mind works. If you listen to her in her interviews, she thinks these things are deep. She takes it seriously. I would have preferred it otherwise. But I like that everything is just a childish plan. I like that it treats everything ridiculously. I appreciate this kind of exciting mess from time to time. And if it means having a Sophie Ellis Bextor and Gregg Alexander song burrow into my head, which thirteen-year-old me loved and danced to, it’s more than welcome.