Saltburn Movie Review: Dark Comedy, Class, and Cinematic Obsession

Saltburn, a 2023 British dark comedy-thriller directed by Emerald Fennell, blends aristocratic excess with psychological unease. Also known as the Netflix film that broke the internet, it’s not just a movie—it’s a slow-burn portrait of obsession dressed in silk and secrets. You’ve probably seen the memes, the viral scenes, the debates. But what’s actually going on in Saltburn? It’s not a horror film, not exactly. Not a romance, either. It’s a class war wrapped in a coming-of-age story, where the protagonist isn’t trying to find himself—he’s trying to become someone else.

At its core, Saltburn is about power. The kind that comes from money, lineage, and the quiet cruelty of being invited into a world you’ll never own. The main character, Oliver, is an outsider who gets pulled into the orbit of a wealthy Oxford student and his eccentric family. Their estate, Saltburn, isn’t just a setting—it’s a character. A decaying palace of privilege where every portrait, every wine glass, every whispered comment carries weight. The film doesn’t shout its themes. It lets them fester. And that’s what makes it so unsettling.

What sets Saltburn apart from other indie films is how it uses style to mask substance. The cinematography is lush, the costumes are jaw-dropping, and the soundtrack? Perfectly chosen to make you feel like you’re watching a dream you can’t wake up from. But beneath the surface, it’s asking hard questions: What happens when someone desperate enough tries to steal a life? And how far will they go when they realize they can’t have it all? The ending doesn’t just shock—it redefines the whole story. People are still arguing about it online. And that’s the point.

If you liked the twisted charm of Black Mirror, a TV anthology that explores technology’s dark side through psychological drama, or the unsettling elegance of The Handmaiden, a period thriller about manipulation and desire, then Saltburn will feel familiar—but still fresh. It doesn’t rely on jump scares or big reveals. It leans into discomfort. The kind that lingers after you turn off the screen.

What you’ll find in the collection below aren’t just reviews. They’re deep dives into the kind of films that make you rethink what cinema can do. From cult classics that thrive on irony to streaming picks that fly under the radar, these pieces connect the dots between Saltburn and the wider world of indie storytelling. Whether you’re into genre-bending films, hidden gems on free platforms, or how real emotion hides behind polished surfaces—you’ll find something here that sticks.