So, let me tell you how I was enticed to see the new black comedy "Saltburn." Seeing some of the hype on-line, I learned that this was essentially a reboot of "The Talented Mr. Ripley." Now, that movie was mediocre but based on a 1960 French film called "Purple Noon" which was wonderful. The plot in all three is pretty much the same. Dorky and poor college student becomes friends with one of the more popular and rich people in school and attempts at all costs to take over his lifestyle. Except for setting the tale in Oxford University and an English palace worthy of Downton Abbey, "Saltburn" pretty much follows the same plot as the other two.
Well, sort of.
"Saltburn" is the overly sexed version of the story. If there's a bodily function in your sex education high school text book, the filmmakers show you. All of them. So, we have dorky and poor Oliver who befriends popular and rich Felix and gets invited to meet his family for a summer vacation at their manor called...wait for it...Saltburn. In short order, we discover that Oliver's one complex...and sick...individual. He is so attracted to Felix that he spies on him masturbating in the bathtub. Afterwards, Oliver comes in and drinks the residue water draining from the tub.
Meanwhile, he gives a blowjob to another male house guest and then performs oral sex on Felix's sister while she is menstruating. Meanwhile, the audience around me was cringing in their seats with every scene. Truly, what I was seeing in "Saltburn" was not your grandmother's Mr. Ripley. Indeed, the closing scene features, in a single camera shot, a completely naked and obviously proud of his junk Oliver prancing from one room of the estate to another. That was the final cringe of the evening.
Films that be pleasant surprises. In the case of "Saltburn," the only one satisfied with the movie was probably Oliver himself.
LEN'S RATING: Two stars.
Dinner last night: Chicken parm.
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