‘It’s a Murder on the Dance Floor’: Review of Saltburn (2023)

Saltburn (2023) most definitely committed a murder on the dance floor. But, a messy one at that. The film “killed it” in a pre-guillotine style beheading kind of way, one where the strike doesn’t fully go through the first time and the executioner has to keep swinging before finally cutting off the dangling head.

I had high hopes for Saltburn. I mean, while half of me watched purely for Jacob Elordi, the movie nonetheless managed to engross me in its actual substance. Saltburn begins as a social commentary a la The Talented Mr. Ripley, with protagonist Oliver Quick (Barry Keoghan) yearning for the world of the aristocracy through his desire for Felix Catton (Jacob Elordi). When his already precarious home life becomes even more dismal following the unexpected death of his father, Oliver is invited by Felix to spend school break at the Cattons’ luxurious estate, referred to as “Saltburn.” So close, yet still worlds away from the true experience of wealth, Oliver's desire for the members of the Catton family seems to be an expression of his ambition for economic equality, ostensibly striving for the carefree life of the aristocracy. However, the film soon appears to reject this interpretation of social commentary, exposing the true nature of Oliver’s character in a shocking twist. On a trip to visit Oliver’s home, Felix, and the audience likewise, discover Oliver’s entire personality to be false. Oliver is revealed to have lied about the instability of his home life, falsifying stories about having drug-dealer parents and a dead father while in actuality, his real family was alive, well-off, and stable. Oliver thus pleads with Felix not to disclose his lies to the rest of the Cattons, to which he agrees, under the condition that Oliver leave Saltburn after a party scheduled that night. Expectedly, things don’t go as planned. After a tense confrontation between the two, Felix is found mysteriously dead the next morning, his death burying Oliver’s secrets with him. More death follows, as soon after, Felix’s sister (Alison Oliver) kills herself seemingly out of heartbreak over her brother’s passing. With half of the family now dead, Oliver still refuses to leave Saltburn, only resolving to depart after being paid off by Felix’s dad. After a time-skip to a few years later, Oliver meets Felix’s mother (Rosamund Pike) at a cafe. With her husband now deceased, the pair start a relationship. Following yet another time skip, the film reveals Felix’s mother lying on a sick bed full of tubes and wires. Oliver monologues over her about the success of his maniacal plan to kill the Cattons and gain their estate, finishing his speech by withdrawing Felix’s mother’s breathing tube.

Though the film begins with the promise of social critique, Saltburn’s narrative ends up killing potentiality for greater meaning, reducing Oliver to an insane caricature. Saltburn seems to forget its initial posturing, the film’s messaging ultimately falling apart at its own seams. Rather than being the radical type of social commentary it clearly wants to be, Saltburn neglects a true narrative commitment to societal exploration, instead endorsing a strange notion of economic virtue.

After all, what is one to take from Keoghan’s character? Initially intriguing, Oliver’s character falls flat, his immorality disappointingly uninteresting, devoid of meaning or greater significance. Robbing Oliver’s desire of any clear sense, the film detaches his motivations from any clear significance. Not actually in any economic straits, Oliver seems to act crazy merely for crazy’s sake, his killing of Felix and the other Catton family members utterly nonsensical. Though Oliver’s killing could be seen as a simple desire for the Saltburn manor itself, the film can’t seem to agree with this interpretation, locating his desire very specifically with the Catton family members. Dislocating his ambition from any broader social meaning, the film reduces Oliver to a madman bent on killing his rich peers for no real reason. This positioning of Oliver’s insanity against the victimization of the Catton family feels incredibly odd, making Saltburn feel like a funhouse mirror version of Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite. Rather than presenting an intriguing social exploration, the film bizarrely appears to locate its sympathy solely with the wealthy.

In spite of all this, I don’t want to imply that Saltburn was all bad. The film truly looked beautiful, utilizing gorgeous cinematography, lighting, and shot composition. The actors gave amazing performances as well, with Keoghan fully embodying his role for all it was worth. But I still couldn’t help but leave Saltburn feeling disappointed, let down by the film’s neglect of its own narrative. Saltburn made me hope for a modern Ripley and somewhere down the middle forgot him, replacing him with a nonsensical caricature. Beginning with all the dynamism of promise, Saltburn kills its own party on the dance floor, failing to deliver on its initial aspirations of social critique.