Saltburn

Director: Emerald Fennell
Starring: Barry Keoghan, Jacob Elordi, Rosamund Pike, Richard E. Grant, Alison Oliver, Archie Medekwe, Carey Mulligan, Paul Rhys, Ewan Michell, Sadie Soverall, Dorothy Atkinson, Shaun Dooley
Running Time: 131 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Emerald Fennell's Saltburn is one of those "blank check" movies where a studio is so bowled over by a director's early success that they've granted them the keys to the kingdom for a follow-up. It's a creative luxury many have used to make their ambitious dream projects that wouldn't usually see the light of day, polarizing critics and audiences alike. Now after 2020's Promising Young Woman, Fennel gets her shot, but deservedly so, since the last thing we need is for big swings like this to disappear as artists are shackled and second guessed.

With a script more interested in obsession than social commentary, its "eat the rich" tale combines elements of The Talented Mr. Ripley, A Clockwork Orange, Brideshead Revisited, and more unfortunately, the fourth season of Netflix's You. Intentionally lacking in depth, viewer enjoyment mostly depends on whether you feel the disgusting shocks are justified by a pitch black satire that starts promisingly enough before flying off the rails. Multiple bodily fluids are ingested and exchanged, as it bombastically hurls toward its destination, making for one of the weirder cases of style over substance.

It's 2006 and scholarship student Oliver Quick (Barry Keoghan) is starting his freshman year at Oxford University, awkwardly attempting to fit in before befriending wealthy and charismatic upperclassman Felix Catton (Jacob Elordi). Sympathetic to his troubled upbringing, the popular Felix takes Oliver under his wing, accepting him into his circle of friends. Reeling from the news of his father's sudden death, Oliver accepts Felix's invitation to stay the summer at the Catton family's Saltburn estate to relax. While there, he meets Felix's eccentric parents Sir James (Richard E. Grant) and Lady Elspeth (Rosamund Pike), his unpredictable sister Venetia (Alison Oliver) and Elspeth's frequent houseguest Pamela (Carey Mulligan). 

Also joining them is Felix's cousin and Oliver's Oxford nemesis Farleigh (Archie Madekwe), a longtime fixture at the mansion who's becoming increasingly skeptical of the new guest's intentions. But Elspeth takes an immediate liking to Oliver, as he's quickly intoxicated by this opulent lifestyle surrounding him. Feeling truly accepted for the first time, his fascination with Felix escalates, along with the Catton family's bizarre behavior. The question isn't when Oliver will leave Saltburn, but whether he can, or even wants to.

You can sense Oliver's fortunes transform overnight after Felix's endorsement, almost immediately establishing him as popular by association. Felix casts such a spell over everyone that just being in his orbit gives Oliver a respectability he couldn't ever achieve on his own. The film's at its best when exploring this massive power imbalance that informs the essence of their parasitic friendship. And the two actors play those notes to perfection, with Keoghan's nerdy, withdrawn, deer in headlights protagonist thirsting for validation, even as we brace ourselves for the possibility he's being used. 

If Keoghan excels as this desperately awkward outsider, Elordi radiates an effortless cool factor that helps explain why so many are high on his potential as a major screen star. His performance remains remarkably consistent when the screenplay zigs and zags, subverting expectations of what was originally assumed about both characters. But once the action shifts to Saltburn and Felix's dysfunctional family enters the equation, the story heads into more polarizing territory.

Nothing that unfolds is particularly "offensive," just skeevy and gross, which could be the purpose. Even while inconsistently straddling the line between dark comedy and thriller, the production design of this intimidating estate (complete with a Shining-like hedge maze) is a sight to behold. Gorgeously lensed with some really impressive tracking shots, sets and costuming, it's nearly impossible to criticize on a technical level. The supporting performances from Grant, Oliver and Madekwe also make their marks, but it's Pike's deliciously droll Elspeth that leaves the largest. And Carey Mulligan is unrecognizable in her hilariously credited "Poor Dear" Pamela cameo, looking like she just escaped the set of a Pieces of April sequel.  

The real danger isn't this family or the estate itself, but what it represents for Oliver, whose compulsions know no bounds. And within these walls Felix is sent crashing back down to earth, the charming aristocrat he portrays on campus giving way to a scared, spoiled boy crying out for attention. Fennell needlessly holds viewers' hands at the end, overexplaining details that should be obvious to anyone paying attention. But the closing moments are a doozy, as the film gleefully basks in its own hedonistic excess with a final shot that wouldn't have seemed out of place in American Psycho.  

Overindulgent but never boring, there's just no telling how huge a disaster this could have been with a someone else at the helm. Leaving just enough of an impression to transcend the insanity, it's hard not to be impressed and repulsed by what Fennell does, knowing she'll come out of this a bolder filmmaker than she was going in. While way inferior to her previous effort, Saltburn's far from an atrocity, its admitted faults rarely stemming from a lack of vision.

Gone Girl

 
Director: David Fincher
Starring: Ben Affleck, Rosamund Pike, Neil Patrick Harris, Tyler Perry, Carrie Coon, Kim Dickens, Patrick Fugit, Casey Wilson, Missi Pyle, Sela Ward, Emily Ratajkowski, Lisa Banes, David Clennon, Scoot McNairy, Boyd Holbrook, Lola Kirke
Running Time: 145 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

There's a certain amount of baggage that comes with arriving to a movie's party late. And while lateness, by today's standards, constitutes only about a week or two, it takes mere minutes for reactions to seep out and spoilers to leak. It seems in only a matter of hours, a movie's critical and commercial prospects are already written. A hardcover of Gillian Flynn's Gone Girl sits on my bookshelf still unopened, with the plan always being to dive in only after I've seen the film. But trying to go in cold is a pointless exercise, as it wasn't long before I accidentally found out more than I wanted to know. And that's tricky, because with this film, ANYTHING is more than you want to know. But it's not because it's some twisty thriller that heavily relies on plot, as could have been with a director other than David Fincher behind the controls.

There are twists and turns in this for sure, but it never feels like it's at the service of something other than exploring the psyches and motivations of these characters, as well as the disturbing, sickening corrosion of outwardly normal relationships. It's easy seeing how such a dark movie has managed to strike this universal chord, but explaining how without spoiling it becomes trickier. What it will do is likely scare anyone in a committed relationship, and maybe even those who aren't .

On the morning of his fifth wedding anniversary, Missouri bar owner Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck) returns home to find his wife, Amy (Rosamund Pike) missing. Signs of a struggle and blood at the scene shift a potential missing person case to a murder investigation with Detective Rhonda Boney (Kim Dickens) Officer James Gilpin (Patrick Fugit) honing in on Nick as their primary suspect. And apparently for good reason. Interspersed  flashbacks and voiceovers from Amy's diary reveal how they first met and became engaged in New York. He, a laid back, corn fed mid westerner. She, an aloof, Type A city girl whose wealthy parents (Lisa Banes and David Clennon) created a popular "Amazing Amy" book series based on her life, or at least their rose-colored version of it.

We slowly discover why they returned to his Missouri hometown and what eventually caused the deterioration of their marriage. With evidence mounting and Nick crumbling under intense media scrutiny, he's rapidly losing the support of everyone but his twin sister Margo (Carrie Coon), signaling it just might be time for him to lawyer up. All that can be safely said is that Amy's disappearance and potential murder isn't the mystery it appears to be.

"Amazing" isn't likely to be the first adjective anyone besides Nick would use in describing the ice cold Amy, as it's difficult to decipher what he initially saw in her that went beyond looks and a somewhat alluring, sophisticated presence. For him, it was enough. Then again, we're given the impression she never really saw it in herself either, always failing to measure up to the idealized fictional book character her parents created and profited from. This could be why something seems really off with this woman right off the bat, making her almost instantly unlikable and aligning our sympathies with him before even knowing the full details of their relationship. Early flashbacks establish in our minds he's too nice a guy for her and will probably be eaten alive. Until we find out he's no boy scout himself, wrestling with his own issues after they've tie the knot. Our allegiances shift back and forth, with only Amy's diary as our guide post, despite her reliability always being in doubt.

That Amy's played by English actress Rosamund Pike is important in so far that no one seems to have any idea who she is, even with a handful of major screen credits to her name over a decade-long career. I'd have trouble naming a single one of them, which is exactly the point. There's a blankness and anonymity to her that Fincher uses to his advantage, even going so far as to claim in interviews it's one of the primary reasons he cast her. We know literally nothing about the actress, which lets no preconceived notions in, allowing Flynn's story to be projected on a clean slate.

If ever there was a case where a big name actress wouldn't work it's here since objectivity (or at least the illusion of it) needs to be retained. It's a casting choice in the vain of mysterious blondes like Grace Kelly or Kim Novak that would make Hitchcock proud, but Pike does the rest of the work, which is more than we imagine it will be when the film begins. And what is "amazing" about Amy is how much life the actress breaths into the character with often only her eyes. Regardless of anyone's familiarity with Pike, this does at least feel like we're seeing her on screen for the first time, with Fincher using that anonymity as a weapon to club unsuspecting audiences.

How Affleck's image and persona is subverted and twisted is an even better example of how Fincher (much like Kubrick before him) uses his actors, transforming their real or perceived weaknesses into strengths that fit the story. Correctly considered a superior director than actor now, Affleck the performer is at his best when playing against his pumped up superstar persona and inhabiting desperate characters whose backs are against the wall. Seemingly overnight, Nick becomes an infamous celebrity and proves as ill equipped at it as anyone else would be in his situation. Unfortunately in his case, this behavior makes him comes across as a guilty sociopath when filtered and magnified through the media's glaring lenses.

Watching Affleck squirm, panic and appear dumbfounded at each new development that further stacks the deck against Nick becomes as exciting as watching a sports event in which you haven't a clue of the outcome. At times it's even darkly hilarious watching this guy's reactions and comparing it to how you think someone in his shoes would behave. It's understandable the police immediately suspect him, and use his apparent cooperation as a means of manipulation. Kim Dickens is perfect as the cop who's perfectly logical and professional. She's really just doing her job, only exceptionally well.    

The worst thing about Neil Patrick Harris' performance as Amy's ex-boyfriend Desi is that I can't address it, as revealing anything would be a spoiler. What can be addressed is that his portion of the film is the strongest and most suspenseful, which is really saying something. His total screen time probably doesn't exceed any more than 10 minutes, but those curious to see how NPH would fare in a seriously dramatic role guided by a top tier filmmaker should prepare to be blown away. Consider this restitution for the actor having to suffer through the final season of How I Met Your Mother and a thrill for viewers getting to see him earn an opportunity he's deserved for a long time. And he absolutely nails it.

The eclectic casting even extends to Tyler Perry as high powered defense attorney Tanner Bolt. Yes, that Tyler Perry. Again a small role, but he's superb in it, proving to be the eyes and ears of the audience sitting in disbelief and shock at what's unfolding. In the midst of  this craziness, he's our voice of reason. Toward the end of the film he has a hilarious line that's just classic and will surely be quoted for years to come because of how perfectly it summarizes Nick's mess.

This third collaboration between Fincher and composers Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross is by far their most unusual in that there's a lot lurking beneath the surface, more specifically these weird, unnerving electronic sounds that fade into the background only to kick up again and accelerate during pivotal scenes, ratcheting up the suspense. It works, creating a nearly constant sense of impending doom in even the quietest moments. The tense atmosphere extends not only to the story and music, but its look as cinematographer Jeff Croneweth manages to makes even daytime scenes feel and appear as if they're occurring in the dead of night. You can almost think of Gone Girl as the twisted cousin of Zodiac and The Game, with the former's theme of obsession meeting the latter's clues and puzzles that similarly constitute the "game" destroying Nick's life.

The last act makes you wonder how something so sadistic could still be this much fun to watch without compromising any of the seriousness. This wasn't necessarily going to be a slam dunk for Fincher, since his adaptation of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, also based on a best selling fictional crime novel, was a rare case of him being dragged down by the material. But this is nothing of the sort, instead returning the director to top form. It's impossible to know how much of the depth was fine-tuned by him and what originated from Flynn's screenplay, but the two prove to be a formidable creative alliance just the same.

There comes a point where it seems the narrative has written itself into a corner, with seemingly only one way out. "They wouldn't do THAT? Would they?" It's an ending that justifiably leaves you talking and thinking. Other directors would have just let the credits roll, but Fincher's smart enough to hang around a while and let the characters have that conversation themselves, and rub our noses in the aftermath. Just the idea that we never truly know who we're with and reveal only the parts of ourselves we want is frightening enough, but this ratchets it up to the most extreme level. After watching it, you'll come away contemplating a whole new meaning of being "trapped" in a marriage.