Now that the flames of the Saltburn discourse have settled, it feels appropriate to delve into the cultural phenomenon that has manifested from the film’s release. Admittedly, when the credits rolled upon my finishing the film for the first time, all I thought was “I don’t really get the point of that”. I was surprised at my own confusion because the production was by no means shallow; the semantics created by director Emerald Fennell were perfectly nostalgic of the early 2000s, built around a rich aesthetic and soundtrack, furnished with complex, though often unsettling, characters. However, the actual plot and overall message seems lost upon the film’s immense viewership, dividing opinions and stirring debates around the topics raised by the storytelling.
Undoubtedly, the greatest discourse around Saltburn has been the rigorous debate over whether or not the film was intended by Fennell to be some kind of class commentary. It seems easy to argue yes. On the one hand, we begin at the infamously-perceived-as-elitist Oxford University, where the seemingly timid and working-class Oliver is taken under the wing of the generous, confident and wealthy Felix, who invites the former to stay at his family (the Cattons) estate, Saltburn, over summer. We, the viewer, watch Oliver suffer the patronising and pitiful tone of the Cattons, under the guise of their superficial generosity, and sympathy for his less-than-fortunate upbringing. However, as the film progresses, it is revealed that we, as well as Felix and his family, have been played by Oliver, who is not only neither poor nor working class (!), but a member of a highly functional and supportive family (!). This, therefore, begs the question: why did he machinate this relationship with Felix and his family, to take their life for himself by the end of the film, when nothing seems wrong with his? Following this logic, surely the film is a class commentary condemning the middle class as an insatiable, voyeuristic and jealous part of society – as opposed to it being a mockery of the rich, as one would assume in the first half of the film. Only at the end, is it revealed that Oliver formulated his plan pretty much the whole time, yet we are given no rhyme nor reason as to why he took such psychopathic lengths to achieve, or even do, this; his character, while deeply complex and disturbing, still felt underdeveloped by the end, the question of why remains unanswered.
In this respect, I argue that Saltburn lost sight of its own plot. Not every film begs a clear message, there is beauty in ambiguity; yet, with an aesthetic as specific and thoughtful as that portrayed in Saltburn, it feels wrong that the plot did not align itself with the same precision and intention. Side note: I couldn’t have been the only one to notice that Saltburn is not only a real place, but a place in the North (which may as well be Mars to the Catton’s). I’m not sure whether this was meant to be some ironic trivia for those more geographically inclined, as there was no need to name the Catton’s estate after a real place; if anything, I would have thought it would at least be named after somewhere in the South – where they supposedly lived! (I digress).
Despite my personal reservations with the who, what, when, where, and why of the film, its success and establishment as a kind of cultural phenomenon is evident by the reach of the film across the breadth of social media. In particular, TikTok became a haven for viewers to express shock at the plot twists and more erotic elements of, in particular, Barry Keoghan’s performance as Oliver. Further, and arguably in bad taste, videos began to appear in their thousands of people strutting around their homes, in a faux imitation of the final scene in which Oliver dances naked around Saltburn, to the tune of Sophie Ellis-Bextor’s “Murder of the Dancefloor” in the background (the record’s growing popularity being a clear indicator of the influence this film has had on the public), seemingly missing the fact that the film nods towards a flaw of the human condition being the desire for extravagant wealth. Either way, the fact that a number of trends and references have stemmed from this picture and made their way into 2023/4 pop culture truly speaks for itself.
Regardless of the message intended by Fennell, Saltburn has burned a lasting presence and impact into the very fabric of popular culture, and that is no small feat. “You know that one Jacob Elordi edit?” … need I say more?
Ava Dadswell
The Dove 
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