“Saltburn,” a dark comedy of manners starring “Priscilla’s” Jacob Elordi and Academy Award nominee Barry Keoghan and now playing in theatres, is a titillating “Talented Mr. Ripley” style tale of class, position and desire that is not afraid to get weird.
Keoghan is Oliver Quick, a shy “scholarship kid” at Oxford University who doesn’t quite fit in with his classmates. His jackets aren’t from Saville Row, he lacks their social graces and most notably, doesn’t come from oodles of cash.
When the handsome, gregarious and monied Felix Catton’s (Elordi) bicycle get s flat tire on the way to a tutorial, Oliver comes to the rescue and the odd couple become fast friends. Ollie isn’t exactly embraced by Felix’s well-heeled inner circle, who find him coarse, but they become tight, hanging out at the pub when they aren’t studying.
At the end of the term Felix asks if Oliver will go home for the summer.
“Honestly, home doesn’t mean the same thing for me as it does for you Felix,” Oliver says. “I don’t think I’ll ever go home again.“
His tale of woe, of growing up as the only child to a drunken father, moves Felix who invites him to spend the summer at Saltburn, his family’s palatial estate.
“Just be yourself,” Felix says. “They’ll love you. It’s relaxed. I promise.”
Except it’s not. It’s the kind of English country home that makes Downton Abbey look like a shack. Priceless art lines the walls, there are butlers and footmen, mandatory jackets at dinner and an oddball collection of aristocratic family members including Felix’s eccentric, self-absorbed father Sir James (Richard E. Grant), casually cruel mother Elspeth (Rosamund Pike) and troubled sister Venetia (Alison Oliver), who tells the newcomer, “You’re just another one of his toys.”
He may be a novelty, out of his depth, but Oliver is drawn to shiny things, the lives of the rich and famous, and will do anything to stay in that privileged world.
“Saltburn” isn’t just a study of the haves and the have nots, it’s a tale of the haves and unchained aspiration. Obsessed with the good life, Oliver will do bad things to get a taste of it.
Keoghan takes risks as the chameleonic Oliver. Whether he is vulnerable, hapless, or a menacing manipulator, the “The Banshees of Inisherin” actor chooses interesting ways to manifest Oliver’s state of mind. There may not be much beneath the surface, other than danger and avarice, but Keoghan, whether he is dancing naked through the grand home or lapping up bath water, keeps the performance and the audience off kilter.
Elordi allows just enough of Felix’s heart of gold to shine through his charming veneer to make the filthy rich character feel a little less dirty and Grant is perfection as the repressed upper-class twit at the head of the family, but it is Pike who steals every scene she’s in. Blessed with the film’s best lines, Elspeth has an off-hand, casual way with a barb that cuts like a knife. When she hears about a friend who has taken her own life, she snorts, “She’d do anything for attention.” These lines are often asides, not central to the action, but Pike makes them memorable.
Unfortunately, director Emerald Fennell, who also wrote the script, doesn’t mine the class satire for answers. She’s content with the black comedy, Oliver’s coldhearted desire and little else. The result is an entertaining film, but a mixed bag. It’s diverting, filled with over-the-top moments and plot twists, but at the end it feels less than the sum of its parts.
Sometimes truth is truly stranger than fact. “Gran Turismo: Based on a True Story,” a new anything-is-possible movie, now playing in theatres, is the unlikely, but true, story of Jann Mardenborough, a gamer who defied expectations in the real world. “Listen son,” says his father Steve. “You think you’re going to play your stupid video games about cars, and you’re going to become a race car driver?”
When we first meet Jann (Archie Madekwe) he’s a nineteen-year-old underwear salesperson, who, when he isn’t selling briefs, spends his time playing Gran Turismo, a racing simulation video game that emulates the experience of elite car racing. He dreams of getting behind the wheel for real, but will his thousands of hours on the simulation translate to the real world?
He gets a chance to find out the answer to that question when Nissan motorsport executive Danny Moore (Orlando Bloom) proposes a wild marketing idea. He wants to gather the best Gran Turismo players, train them at Nissan’s GT Academy, and, under the watchful eye of crusty trainer Jack Salter (David Harbour), enroll them in real life races. The winners of the competition will earn a spot on Team Nissan and a “place in history.” Jann’s high scores catch Moore’s attention, and after a qualifying simulation, Jann is off to the races. Literally.
Despite initial setbacks, the disdain of pit crews and the other drivers who consider him a novelty, a simulation driver playing in the big leagues, Jann excels and finds himself pitted against Europe’s finest drivers.
“Gran Turismo: Based on a True Story” is essentially a series of races with some family drama, a hint of romance, some twisted metal and flying tires and heaping loads of product placement and sports cliches wedged in between. It’s a crowd pleaser with some fist-in-the-air moments, but emotionally, it’s on cruise control.
Director Neill Blomkamp never strays from the traditional underdog sports movie formula.
Mardenborough’s story is remarkable. Unfortunately, the telling of it isn’t as remarkable. It goes pedal to the metal on sports cliches—“I’m going to push you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before,” roars Salter.— and follows the same path to the big race as many others have taken before.
But sports movies are never really only about the sport. They are about universal themes, like, in this case, an underdog following his dreams. On that score, “Gran Turismo” works well enough. The story itself is manipulative, but when the movie is speeding around a track at 200 miles an hour, it is an exciting manifestation of Mardenborough’s dreams coming true. When the characters are talking, it is more a cavalcade of cliches and easy exposition.
Of course, there are exceptions. For example, Mardenborough listens to soft rock to psyche himself for races, leading Salter to bellow, “You take all that Kenny G anger and you release it.” It’s a good, funny line and it ranks up there with my other favorite movie line, “I’m from Waterloo, where the vampires hang out,” from “Blackberry” earlier this year.
It’s hard to dislike a movie as relentlessly upbeat as “Gran Turismo: Based on a True Story.” As the cars whiz around the track it is all forward momentum in service of the inspiring story. It’s just a shame that the human parts of the tale aren’t as immersive as the racing scenes.
“Midsommar,” the creepy new film from “Heredity” director Ari Aster, is proof positive that not all scary stuff happens under the cover of darkness. Sometimes daylight can illuminate the true horror of a situation in even more terrifying ways.
In the wake of a family tragedy American grad student Dani (Florence Pugh) finds out about her aloof boyfriend’s Christian (Jack Reynor) secret holiday, a trip to Sweden. Christian has one foot outside the relationship but half-heartedly asks her along. “I invited Dani to come to Sweden,” he tells his friends, “just to not make it weird. She’s not actually coming.”
But she does go with Jack and fellow anthropology students Josh (William Jackson Harper), a PhD student gathering info for his thesis, and wannabe-playboy Mark (Will Poulter) to a midnight sun celebration in the remote hometown of school mate Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren). “It’s sort of a crazy festival,” Pelle says. “It only happens every ninety years. Lots pf pageantry, special ceremonies and dressing up.”
The festival is a Scandinavian Coachella, complete with dancing, pan-flute music and hallucinogenic drugs, all under a blazing sun that never sets. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime thing and I wanted to share it with my friends,” Pelle says. “People I know would appreciate it.”
At first it’s hospitable—”Welcome and happy Midsommar,” says the Ceremony Leader. “Skål!”—but after the and fun and games—and psychotropic mushrooms—start to wear off a gradual air of menace settles over the proceedings as the tone shifts from Burning Man to “The Wicker Man” as a secret pagan agenda is revealed.
“Midsommar” is a tough movie to categorize. It’s not exactly a horror film although there are some horrifying moments. It’s more the story of Dani, a woman trapped in a loveless relationship, (SPOILER ALERT) who lost one family only to find another under very strange circumstances. Elements of high school rom coms and revenge films echo throughout.
Aster, a master of mood, slowly unveils how the unusual customs of the villagers unsettle their American guests. His film asks questions about the relationship the Swedes have with their surroundings and traditions. The circle of life brings joy for them, not terror and the pious, matter-of-fact way they deal with death as a sacrament suggests the North Americans fear the situation simply because they don’t understand the customs. Are they the ultimate Ugly Americans or are they actually in danger? That’s the push and pull that builds the tension leading up to the explosive climax.
“Midsommar” may be the definition of ‘not for everyone.’ A colleague, who has sat through more movies with me than either of us could possibly remember, declared it one of the worst films she’s ever seen. But that is the subjectivity of art, the polarizing nature of a film that doesn’t easily fit into any definable category.
