Salt burn - definition: A condition arising when fine salt coagulates proteins near the surface of a fish being prepared and prevents any further penetration of salt into the flesh. 

Saltburn is both the title of director Emerald Fennell's latest movie, and the sprawling home of the film's aristocratic family and their transient menagerie of long-term guests. I found an ambiguously tasty irony linking all these clarifications that only became clear to me once I googled the meaning of salt burn. I'll let you figure this out for yourself once you've watched this spectacularly dark, psychological thriller from the director of 2020's much-lauded Promising Young Woman. 

Oscar-nominee Barry Keoghan, fresh off last year's The Banshees of Inisherin, returns to the screen as the utterly plain (to put it, kindly) Oliver Quick, an unfashionable, socially awkward sad sack who, thanks to a scholarship, is beginning his freshman year at Oxford. While his fellow students, with their shared sense of entitlement, mingle amongst themselves, poor Oliver--of much humbler origins--wanders about campus like an invisible man, unnoticed and ill-at-ease. His lone acquaintance at school (Ewan Mitchell) is an unhinged, similarly disadvantaged misfit who soon proves to be entirely too outre', even for Oliver. 

However, it isn't long before the tall, dark and devastatingly handsome Felix Catton (Jacob Elordi) comes to Oliver's attention. As the nucleus of his college's high-falutin' social scene, Felix is everything that Oliver is not: sizzling hot and very, very rich. Once Felix's friends spy Oliver's puppy eyes fixated on Felix, they are amused--at first--and dismiss this lowly nerd as one unworthy of their attention. Of course, they can't ignore Oliver forever. It isn't long before these pretty young things begin openly insulting Oliver with blistering asides full of contempt and scorn. Oliver's man-crush hasn't exactly been subtle. 

In the meantime, having surrounded himself with comely coeds and uppity nobs, Felix remains fairly oblivious to Oliver's existence. Unfortunately for Oliver, Felix's mean-spirited American cousin, Farleigh (Archie Madekwe), is not quite so insular; he is well aware of this shadowy specter taking such an unseemly interest in Felix. Though haughty and hateful, Farleigh also recognizes something of himself in this outlier and doesn't like what he sees. As it happens, Farleigh is attempting to bolster his own diminishing returns via his access to Felix and the Catton family's largesse. Setting himself up as Oliver's chief (but, by no means, sole) nemesis, Farleigh has no intention of granting Oliver admission into this elite Oxford coterie. 

Things begin to change when Oliver happens across Felix fussing over a flat tire on his bicycle. Far from his rooms and running late for class, the hapless hunk needs rescuing, and Oliver deems himself just the man to rescue him. When Oliver offers to loan Felix his own bicycle and return the other to their accommodations, Felix politely declines. He simply can't take advantage of Oliver's kindness or--horror of horrors--become a source of inconvenience; his taken-for-granted noblesse oblige prohibits such considerations. Oliver, though--in hero mode--won't take no for an answer, and Felix genuinely doesn't have time to argue the matter. So, off the handsome prince rides on Oliver's bike, and there begins a tentative friendship that--maybe--blossoms into something else. Much to the alarm of Farleigh and the nobs. 

Fraught with homoerotic tension, the pair's initial relationship ebbs and flows. In due time, Oliver receives tragic news from home and Felix proves to be his sole source of comfort. With summer break looming, a hangdog Oliver happens to mention that he can't bear returning home to an untenable situation with his mother. After some slight hesitation (a portent of things to come, perhaps?) Felix--not really a bad sort, given his station in life--invites Oliver to spend the summer with him and his family at Saltburn, their centuries-old pile in the East Midlands countryside. 

And so this cringey, whey-faced lad from some elusive, down-at-heels household follows his handsome patron and friend to these isolated, ultra-luxe hinterlands where he will spend a luxuriant summer with the Catton Family and their various hangers-on. Presiding over the estate is distracted, good-natured Sir James (Richard E. Grant) and his elegant wife, Elspeth (Rosamund Pike), who, upon being introduced to Oliver, confesses that the one thing in life she can't abide is ugliness. Mortified that she so abruptly shared this personal grievance, Elspeth immediately determines to find something beautiful about Oliver (because, Oliver--let's face it--is a bit of an ugly duckling). She settles on his eyes. His beautiful eyes. 

Oliver meets the rest of his housemates: Felix's troubled sexpot sister, Venetia (Alison Oliver); Elspeth's friend, "poor, dear" Pamela (Carey Mulligan); imposingly sinister butler, Duncan (Paul Rhys); and, of course, the itinerant snob, Farleigh, whose own misplaced mother is the sister of Sir James. 

As the unseasonably warm English summer burns away prejudices and inhibitions (and designer threads), the awkward and ugly duckling proceeds to evolve--slowly, agonizingly--into a swan. Fine daytime duds and evening dress transform Oliver as he finds himself elevated from the realm of the merely ordinary. Oliver also happens to be sporting an unexpectedly alluring physique beneath all his pent-up angst. Elspeth notices. Venetia notices. Even Pamela notices. So does Felix. 

And so it goes, that summer at Saltburn, when the world changed for everyone staying there. 

To say more about Saltburn would be to ruin the surprises in store for first-time viewers. Or maybe they won't be so much surprised as shocked. Saltburn does not skimp on shocks. Lest I have misled you into thinking that this is some sort of modern-era retooling of Downton Abbey, let me assure you that it is not. It is very dark and, often, fiendishly funny. And, since it is, at heart, cruel, sensual, and raw, Saltburn may miss the mark for viewers of more delicate sensibilities. The film's sly wit and transgressive plot reveals that the mind of its creator is of such idiosyncratic design to render much of the material acutely unsettling (this is not a complaint, by the way). There is also no shortage of sex--bits of it wildly kinky--and nudity, including multiple full-frontals of a rather well-equipped Keoghan (no complaints here, either). For me, however, the biggest shock is the unexpected (mostly bloodless) violence that escalates towards the twist ending.  

Everyone in the cast performs admirably, with standouts being (of course) Barry Keoghan as Oliver, and the wonderful Richard E. Grant and Rosamund Pike, who are alternately droll and imperiously fed-up with the troubled souls living under their roof. Sophie Ellis-Bextor's "Murder on the Dance Floor" (and the final ebullient happy dance) serves as a fitting benediction to the film's devious machinations. 

Handsomely filmed and exquisitely outfitted, Saltburn is a character-driven, highly provocative psychodrama with tinges of jet black humor that I found both engrossing and thoroughly entertaining.