Saltburn (2023)
Director: Emerald Fennell
Screenwriter: Emerald Fennell
Starring: Barry Keoghan, Jacob Elordi, Rosamund Pike, Richard E. Grant, Alison Oliver, Archie Madekwe, Carey Mulligan

With the release of her debut feature film Promising Young Woman in 2020, Emerald Fennell established herself as one of the most exciting directors working today. Her candy-pop infused, #MeToo-inspired revenge thriller provoked challenging discussions and introduced the world to Fennell’s fresh voice and unique talents. With her sophomore effort Saltburn, can lightning strike twice?

The film opens at the beginning of the 2006/07 academic year as Oliver Quick (Barry Keoghan) enrols at Oxford University. Though Ollie struggles to make friends at first – hilariously summed up in the trailer by Ewan Mitchell’s great line “Did you know there was a college Christmas party tonight? NFI, me and you. Not fucking invited” – he quickly finds himself under the wing of charming and aristocratic Felix Catton (Jacob Elordi). Before long, Catton invites Ollie to stay with him over the summer at his eccentric family’s sprawling estate, Saltburn.

The title card of the picture finds itself scribbled across the film’s 4:3 frame, like the graffiti you’d find sprawled over an old school textbook. Immediately, with this simple design choice, Fennell sums up the schoolboy immaturity of many of the characters; they think the world revolves around them but really their problems are the sort of issues you’d find on the playground, and they hold onto their grudges forever. What makes it so terrifying, as their placement as the elite in society shows, is that these are the people who hold power. The ones that make the rules for everyone else yet don’t abide by them (a very funny karaoke scene in the film seems to poke fun at a very real example of this in recent British politics), the kind of people who don’t need to worry financially. There is maybe even something to be said about the latter point with regard to the film’s setting in 2007, right before the climax of the 2007–2008 financial crisis. 

Making up this abhorrent and aberrant family are an unforgettable cast of characters made up of the airhead family patriarch Sir James (Richard E. Grant), the oblivious family matriarch Elsbeth (Rosamund Pike), Felix, his siren-like sister Venetia (Alison Oliver) and their cousin Farleigh (Archie Madekwe), a particularly mischievous jester-like character that entertains the whole family. Oh, and let’s not forget the ludicrously melancholic “Poor Dear” Pamela (Carey Mulligan). All of whom are portrayed wonderfully by each respective actor, often delivering hilarious comedic performances with such an immense depth to them that not only do they make us laugh but they offer a scarily accurate portrayal of the type of people we allow to control our world.

The loathsome behaviour and elitist thinking of each character is introduced very early on. This is perhaps best exemplified by Oliver’s first meeting with his tutor, in which he is essentially mocked for having completed the summer reading, rather than celebrated for his hard work. All the while Farleigh, who is twenty minutes late, gains the respect of the tutor due to his family name and the power that it holds. In this world, status beats out hard work every time. Equally so, the first time Oliver and Felix officially meet, Felix’s bike has a puncture and Oliver offers him his bike so that he can make it to class even though it is clear that Felix really wasn’t doing much to even attempt to fix his bike. Felix was raised to believe that all of life’s problems would be solved for him. 

In spite of all this, Oliver can’t help but to find himself seduced by their lavish lifestyles, just as we can’t help but to be tempted by the Catton family, leading to both us and Oliver finding ourselves entangled in their web. It is in the way that the film is shot that allows Fennell to seduce us so easily. Shooting the stately home as though it were a fetish object, Fennell captures the alluring nature of such a home in the most perfect way that it becomes clear why anybody who enters would never wish to leave again. 

Saltburn doesn’t produce a product that simply delivers a message of the evils of privileged high society, but instead delivers them as fully fleshed out humans of both good and bad doing. Just as Felix may be a spoilt brat he is also by far the most understanding of the family and the one who is constantly generous to Oliver for little reason other than genuine kindness. Jacob Elordi captures this in his layered performance as Felix, bringing a charm and charisma to the character as well as a childish nature.

Instead, Saltburn shows the evils of desire and the lengths that many will go to in order to get what they want. In the game that is Saltburn, everybody wants something and they are all playing against each other to get it. It’s like ‘Succession‘ for the ‘Skins’ generation.

Though it is certainly an ensemble piece and one in which each performer must be nothing short of brilliant in order to make the world of the movie work, the story really rests on the shoulders of lead actor Barry Keoghan. He, along with Fennell’s wonderful direction, brings Saltburn to life. As the film progresses and it is Oliver who becomes the desirable object, things begin to get interesting and Keoghan’s portrayal of this journey is nothing short of spectacular. Not only does he capture the growth and progression of his character with precision, but with each new scene he brings something a little different, making Oliver’s evolution all that more interesting. Come the end of the film, once Oliver has transformed into his final form, it is clear that what we have just witnessed is a special performance that will linger in the mind for years to come.

Deciding which of Fennell’s two feature films is better will inevitably come down to a matter of taste. For some, one message will hit harder than the other, but for others the pacing and structure will leave a lasting impact. It all comes down to the individual. What is clear, however, is that Emerald Fennell is one of the most exciting directors working today and Saltburn marks the second successive masterpiece in her short but impactful career.

Saltburn is a seductive odyssey of lust, desire and betrayal that plays out like a Shakespearean episode of ‘Skins’, with a slight dash of ‘Succession’. Perhaps just as importantly, it does for Sophie Ellis-Bextor’s “Murder on the Dancefloor” what Promising Young Woman did for Paris Hilton’s “Stars Are Blind”. Emerald Fennell has done it again.

Score: 23/24

Priscilla (2023)
Director: Sofia Coppola
Screenwriter: Sofia Coppola
Starring: Cailee Spaeny, Jacob Elordi, Ari Cohen, Dagmara Dominczyk

It ought to be an impossible task to follow up Baz Luhrmann’s Elvis Presley extravaganza. Like the man himself, Luhrmann’s Elvis was a pageant of spectacle, leaving no stone unturned as it followed the infamous King of Rock and Roll from birth to death. So, it seemed like a futile endeavour when Sofia Coppola announced that she would be adapting Priscilla Presley’s memoir “Elvis & Me” into her next feature film. With Elvis fresh in our minds, what else could we possibly glean from a new Presley perspective? Well, as with all great tales, there are two sides to every story. 

The story of how Priscilla met Elvis feels plucked straight from a teenage girl’s Wattpad fanfiction. At just fourteen years old, and after begging for permission from her parents, Priscilla (Cailee Spaeny) attends a party that Elvis (Jacob Elordi, The Kissing Booth) throws at his rented home in West Germany. Elvis can’t help falling in love with Priscilla, immediately recognising their shared loneliness and longing to go back home to the United States. From their meeting onwards, Elvis revolves his life around Priscilla. ‘I like talking to her,’ he explains to her father when he expresses concerns about the negative effect Elvis is having on Priscilla’s school work. Their relationship is a bubble of bliss: passionate kisses, endless talking, dates, charm and newfound popularity. Then Elvis’s military service ends, the bubble pops, and he returns to America to continue his reign as The King. 

She follows him, like we all would. His piercing blue eyes and mesmerising aura are all she can see, all she can think about. After months of longing, Elvis manages to convince Priscilla’s parents to let her finish high school in the US. While her classmates can only fantasise about kissing Elvis, Priscilla gets to live the dream, spending her days with her head in books and her nights in his arms. Yet things aren’t quite the same once Priscilla gets to Memphis. Elvis, who appeared so perfectly absorbed by his love for Priscilla reveals himself as a devil in disguise, and Graceland, his picture-perfect home, becomes Priscilla’s very own heartbreak hotel. 

The grandeur of Elvis fades into the background of Coppola’s tale. We see him tailed by adoring fans, but through Priscilla’s eyes we experience him as a regular man. Although he expertly adopts the signature moves and deep southern voice, it’s an understated performance from Jacob Elordi. The celebrity persona that we have come to recognise as Elvis is missing. By muting the all-consuming presence of Elvis, Coppola pushes Priscilla into the forefront, claiming back some agency over her story. She makes no effort to sanitise Elvis’s behaviour or to tiptoe around his legacy. Instead, we experience a man who could often be controlling and cruel. We see him subtly craft Priscilla’s image, choosing her clothes and making suggestions as to how she should wear her hair and makeup. He often throws childish tantrums when he doesn’t get his way, and there’s a threat of violence in the air when Priscilla rebels against the life he imprisons her within. Yet, for Priscilla, who is utterly infatuated with desire and consumed with a need to be loved, it is the threats Elvis makes to leave or take his love away which sting the most. 

Sofia Coppola has always had a recognisable style within her filmmaking, but here her presence as an author is unmissable. Each frame is infused with her unique artistry and aesthetic, making for a rich experience in world-shaping. Coppola doesn’t overlook a single detail, every prop and costume, from cars and dresses to hairbrushes and wine glasses, fits perfectly within Priscilla’s world. Graceland feels lived in and alive – almost as if we could reach out and run our fingers through the lush cream carpets. In juxtaposition to this, cinematographer Philippe Le Sourd (The Beguiled), sticks close to Priscilla, making Graceland appear small and claustrophobic. Like Priscilla, we don’t follow Elvis through his remarkable life, we stay with her, watching as his tour bus fades off into the distance. The space is lavish, filled with everything Priscilla could possibly need or want, but the presence of Elvis’s absence looms large. Like the great Joan Didion once said, “A single person is missing for you and the whole world is empty.”

Newcomer Cailee Spaeny gives a sensational performance as the titular star. Coppola’s decision to cast a fresh face opens the door for us to meet Priscilla afresh. As an audience, we assign expectations to celebrities, but with Spaeny, we’re invited to step into the film unencumbered by the version of the story we’re all well-versed in. Her height, in juxtaposition to Elordi’s, marks out the iconic pair’s considerable age difference and calls into question the peculiar fascination Elivs seems to have with Priscilla’s virginity. Although aflame with their obsession with one another, the film is pointedly sexless, and Priscilla becomes so trapped within Elvis’s sacred obsession of childhood and innocence, it comes as a shock when she announces her pregnancy. 

As a filmmaker, Coppola is always looking to investigate womanhood. Although she never takes the conventional route, the enigma of female identity and female relationships is at the heart of her craft. Hair is integral to the female experience. To quote Lady Gaga: “I am my hair”. We see Coppola expand upon this idea with Priscilla. When we meet Priscilla in childhood, she is tightly restrained like her ponytails. When she meets Elvis, she dyes her hair black and gives it volume at his request, not expressing herself but her idea of who Elvis wants her to be. Then, as she matures and grows into her womanhood, we see her hair slowly begin to change. It becomes looser, more natural, until it eventually changes the image of her appearance completely. 

Priscilla fits effortlessly into Sofia Coppola’s canon, asking us to redefine how we view the female experience, and to think of women separately from the men they have loved. 

Score: 19/24

The Kissing Booth 3 (2021)
Director: Vince Marcello
Screenwriters: Vince Marcello, Jay S. Arnold
Starring: Joey King, Joel Courtney, Jacob Elordi, Stephen Jennings, Molly Ringwald

At long last, Vince Marcello’s final instalment of The Kissing Booth trilogy has arrived on Netflix. Despite a sloppy sequel in the form of The Kissing Booth 2 and a central cast who has arguably aged out of the cheesy and childish narrative – in both appearance and popularity – the phenomenon surrounding the teen-movie series has far from fizzled. It began when fifteen-year-old Beth Reekles posted her original story to Wattpad (a social media creative writing site) and rapidly gleaned over nineteen million views and an ensuing book deal with Random House. The popularity of the contemporary teen characters led to a Netflix adaptation and ensuing global success for all involved, with each bright and peppy instalment notching up viewing figures and fan engagement. 

The Kissing Booth 3 marks the end of an era and the close of Elle Evans’s (Joey King’s) tumultuous journey caught between her best friend, Lee Flynn (Joel Courtney), and his smoking-hot older brother Noah Flynn (Jacob Elordi). There are slim pickings in terms of plot – we catch up with Elle stuck in the same position we left her in at the close of The Kissing Booth 2 , and with university rapidly approaching, Elle realises that she can no longer bury her head in the sand and must pick between moving to Boston with her boyfriend to attend Harvard or remaining in California with her best friend to attend Berkley. You might think that to get into either of these Ivy League schools, you might, at the very least, have an interest in school or studying, but you’d be wrong: we don’t see Elle so much as even open a book. In the end, Elle isn’t persuaded by either school’s prestigious reputation; she’s swayed more by the idea of moving in with Noah and the prospect of having his rocking hot body on tap. So, she chooses Harvard over Lee, scrapping their lifelong promise to attend the same college.

With the opportunity to spend one final summer at the Flynn’s Beach House – which, despite protest, Lee’s Mum and Dad plan to sell for millions of dollars – Elle makes plans to pull off the perfect summer in order to make things right, promising Lee that they will complete all twenty-two childhood-fantasy inspired activities on their Beach Bucket List. Said list includes a slushy drinking competition, a Mario Kart themed go-kart race, taking part in a flash mob, cliff diving and sumo wrestling, to name but a few. Everything seems perfect, but with her time so thinly spread between completing the Bucket List, working long hours at her summer waitressing job and babysitting her younger brother, Elle’s perfect relationship with her bad-boy boyfriend begins to splinter, especially when their respective old flames arrive on the scene. With her relationship on the rocks, Elle starts to question if moving across the country for her gorgeous guy will be the right thing for her in the long run.

The Kissing Booth 3 is less of a film and more of a series of wacky montages. All within the first twenty-five minutes we are treated to a fun vacation montage, which documents everything Elle and friends have been getting up to since the close of The Kissing Booth 2, followed by a quirky cleaning montage, then a jam-packed beach activities montage. The film is bursting at the seams with hodge-podge ideas, colour, expensive-looking houses, cars and activities, but the more the film piles on, the more difficult it becomes to see the wood for the trees. It’s as if Marcello is making it up as he goes, unsure what direction he’s aiming for exactly. A tale of struggling friendship? A romance? A story about a young girl becoming a woman? To make matters worse, he makes room to shoehorn an unoriginal family drama into the proceedings. Elle’s father (Stephen Jennings) – who’s been nothing more than a simple background character in the previous movies – suddenly announces the existence of his new girlfriend. However, much to his disappointment, Elle is too concerned with her beach plans and hot boyfriend to entertain this idea for more than a second. All this while Marcello desperately tries to make use of Molly Ringwald, who teeters around the edge of the narrative for some unknown reason. Let’s just say, The Kissing Booth 3 has a bad case of let’s throw everything at the wall and see what sticks.

The Kissing Booth pales in comparison to its novel-to-screen YA contemporaries. Last year we saw To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before’s Lara Jean Tovey in a similar situation, stuck between a promise and a desire to attend college in a different city to that of her dreamy boyfriend. However, The Kissing Booth’s Elle isn’t allowed the same space for self-exploration as Lara Jean, and as such, we fail to see her actualise a version of herself outside of her relationship. Throughout the To All the Boys series, both Lara Jean and her beau Peter Kaminsky mature, dealing with complicated and frightening emotions that come with grief, anxiety, self-worth, abandonment and growing up. Yet, in the case of Noah and Elle, their personalities remain paper-thin and their worldview shallow. We see Marcello make a last-ditch attempt to infuse some kind of personality in Elle towards the end of the movie when she randomly decides to pursue a future in video game design, despite having never mentioned an interest in games throughout all three films. However, the last-minute development feels half-hearted, like a disappointing effort to make the same mature statement To All the Boys delivered so well.

It isn’t even as if The Kissing Booth 3 matches the hot and heavy energy of its other YA rival, After. While the After franchise does give The Kissing Booth a run for its money in terms of sheer cringe-inducing cheesiness, at least Tessa and her hunk Hardin aren’t afraid of getting a little steamy. The Kissing Booth 3 hints at the possibility of sex, but the non-existent chemistry between King and Elordi leaves that idea dead in the water. The pair seem terribly unsuited; with his towering height and feeble characterisation, Elordi seems incredibly awkward in his role. In fact, every moment Elordi spends on screen seems downright physically painful for him.

Coming in at just short of two hours, The Kissing Booth 3 is an arduous endeavour made up of wooden acting, recycled ideas and annoying dialogue. Overall, it is a disappointing end to an already tedious franchise.

5/24