Saltburn, The Talented Mr. Ripley, and Class Relations on Film
On the Discourse of Saltburn
Since its release in November 2023, much has been said and discussed about Saltburn. Directed by Emerald Fennell, this film respectively stars Barry Keoghan and Jacob Elordi as Oliver Quick and Felix Catton, two Oxford students whose burgeoning friendship while at university leads to a not-so-stellar summer at the Catton family’s Saltburn Manor. The exploration of sociocultural differences between Oliver’s (alleged) working-class background and Felix’s bourgeois lifestyle serves as the film’s main selling point, with both fans and critics alike highlighting the themes of class differences, conflict, and abuse. Plenty of praise has been given to the twisted performance of Keoghan, as well as the fantastic cinematography of Linus Sandgren, whose brilliant framing of the extravagant English estate (portrayed by the real-life Drayton House in rural England) further emphasizes the material excess held by the Catton family. The film’s final act, however, has left many unsatisfied, feeling the class conflict was used only as a clever twist and nothing more. In these criticisms, the 1999 thriller The Talented Mr. Ripley has been brought up (including a recent analysis from brilliant YouTuber Broey Deschanel), with the working-class Tom Ripley (played by Matt Damon) also befriending and subsequently obsessing over his (alleged) bourgeois classmate Dickie Greenleaf (played by Jude Law). Though these comparisons are apt, I’d like to explore how these two films express their themes of class conflict and sociopathic obsession through the characterization of their respective protagonists and the worlds said characters inhabit.
Saltburn and Middle-Class Envy
Let’s start with the protagonist of Saltburn: Oliver Quick. A student on scholarship at Oxford, Oliver is characterized as lonely and standoffish, reflecting the alienation he feels both as a new student at an elite university and a social outcast due to his class background. His accent reveals that he’s what’s known as Scouse in England, meaning someone from the wider Liverpool or Merseyside area of Northeastern England, an area of the UK known for being of lower socioeconomic status and development. Though the narration provided by Oliver hints at deception, he is framed as pitiable. Classmate Felix empathizes with the allegedly working-class Oliver and invites him to his family manor over the summer.
During his stay, Oliver’s sociopathic and hypersexual nature begins to reveal itself, shown in a rather intriguing bathtub scene and a bit of “period drama” with Felix’s sister Annabel (played by Sadie Soverall). Cousin Farleigh (played by Archie Madekwe) suspects Oliver of ulterior motives, but is then framed by Oliver for stealing from the manor and removed thusly. Felix also catches on to the deception coming from Oliver, and through a short car ride to the Quick residence, it is revealed to us that Oliver’s working-class identity is false. His father is not dead nor is his mother a drug addict, as he told Felix while at university. He has two loving parents in a beautiful home in the suburbs. Oliver admits that he only lied for sympathy, but this is to no avail, and Felix vows that after the planned birthday party for Oliver at Saltburn he must leave. This conflict finally builds up to a violent end, with Felix found dead the next day.
The violence continues. One by one, the death of the Catton family leads to only the mother Elspeth left (played by Rosamund Pike), whose ignorance of Oliver’s villainy leads her to leave the entire estate to the poor boy she pitied all these years. In the film’s final minutes, it’s further revealed to us by Oliver himself that this was his grand plan all along. The film flashes back to earlier scenes of Felix and Oliver’s burgeoning friendship to be all a ruse. In the finale’s narration, Oliver states that though he loved the Catton family and their wealth, his love stemmed from a deep contempt.
Though the audience understands that Oliver’s actions revealed abusive tendencies, his villainous nature is revealed to be just that and nothing more. His reason for consuming the family and their estate is because of his hatred. He wanted what he didn’t have, and now he has it, and can freely dance nude to Sophie-Ellis Bextor in his own mansion whenever he pleases. Unfortunately, this feels rather shallow to a story which contained quite a lot of thematic potential. We are left with the impression that our villain’s source of hatred stems from not English working-class alienation (a theme which is still a relevant and popular topic in British literature and media for well over two centuries) but middle-class envy, in which the contempt Oliver has for the Catton family stems from mere jealousy over their material wealth and not the exploitation that both they and their heirs may have committed in order to acquire such riches.
So, what do we do with this? What are we to make of Oliver Quick? Are we just left with an angry young man filled with a psychosexual obsession with the rich and beautiful? What other characters in film can we compare him to? This is where Tom Ripley, our man in Italy, comes in.
The Talented Mr. Ripley and Working-Class Alienation
In the 1999 film The Talented Mr. Ripley directed by Anthony Minghella, we are introduced to Tom Ripley (played by Matt Damon). In this adaptation of what was originally a book series by Patricia Highsmith, Ripley’s evolving obsession with Dickie Greenleaf (played by Jude Law) is shown slowly with dialogue and visual exposition. Opening in New York before Ripley embarks to Italy to convince Dickie to return to his rich family in the states, we are shown his drab lifestyle. He works as a bathroom attendant, has a rundown apartment, and rarely socializes beyond the piano gigs he gets outside of his attendant work. Through this visual exposition, it is immediately apparent to us as to why Ripley would be interested in this mission given to him by Dickie’s father Herbert.
As he arrives in Italy, we also see immediately his knack for deception. Upon meeting fellow American Meredith Logue (played by Cate Blanchett) during his arrival, he claims to be not Tom, but Dickie Greenleaf, foreshadowing his deceptive nature. Once he meets Dickie and his fiancé Marge (Gwyneth Paltrow), the blossoming friendship is shown to be a novel experience for Tom. This camaraderie is like that of Oliver’s and Felix’s, with the same ending result of friendship turning to tension, obsession, conflict, and eventually murder. There are key differences in The Talented Mr. Ripley, however. In Mr. Ripley, we the audience know from the start that Ripley is lying, and that his scheming may lead to trouble, and although we may sympathize with this struggle at the start of the film, we slowly transition this sympathy to discomfort, concern, and surprise. Part of the thrill of The Talented Mr. Ripley itself is the act of Ripley’s continuing deception and where it leads him, as well as how his lies further push the plot, various conflicts, and how he gets himself into (and out of) trouble.
Throughout most of the film, we know the entire time that Tom is, according to Tom himself, a nobody, a working-class stiff who had no money and took advantage of an opportunity in the hopes that it would give himself some meaning and happiness. The only true narrative reveal is the revelation that alleged previous relationship with Dickie as a fellow classmate was a hoax, as Tom’s Princeton jacket was only acquired as his previous employment was at Princeton as a piano tuner. This personality of “nothingness” that Tom feels expresses itself as sociopathic, and because he has no social or financial capital, he feels he must obtain it through the possession of Dickie’s identity. Through theft, Tom can have the capital he feels he deserves. Instead of a last-minute plot twist like in Saltburn, Tom’s games of trickery are part of the thrill of the entire narrative, hence the talented in the film’s title.
The portrayal of sexuality and queer identity, though more implicit than Saltburn, is also attributed to Tom’s obsession with Dickie. Throughout, we are unsure if Tom is yearning for a love affair which he wants to turn into an abusive obsession a la Fatal Attraction, or if this is an obsession that Tom finds so overwhelming it then becomes sexual. Tom’s own queerness seems unclear to himself, as the conservative society of the 1950s that the film takes place in would not condone such a relationship. This further contributes to Tom’s alienation, as his lack of an identity in both heteronormative and capitalist social spheres contributes to his sociopathy. This differs greatly to Oliver’s own sexual identity in Saltburn, whose acts are portrayed as a need for control and possession. None of the sexual acts by Oliver are particularly consensual (I’m no mortician, but I’m pretty sure buried corpses can’t consent) and are played out more for shock value for the audience than any exploration of queer love, passion, or struggle. As someone who identifies as queer, I found this rather disappointing in the case of Saltburn. In the case of Oliver, his queerness is attributed as a part of his villainy, whereas with Tom, it’s attributed as a part of his anxiety.
American vs. English Classes
In comparing these two films, I shall also point out that in relation to themes of class and alienation, they are still distinct in that they stay mainly within their national cultures, with Saltburn focusing on England and Mr. Ripley focusing on the United States. With these national differences, class structures contrast in several distinct ways. England, as it stands and has been the case for well over a millennium, is still very much entrenched in a heavily stratified class system, with class relations and cultural signifiers frequently discussed as a part of everyday life. As someone who currently lives in the UK, I can personally attest to this, as most every activity, purchase, or outing may be viewed as “working-class,” “middle-class,” or “posh.” As portrayed in Saltburn, much of the upper class of England come from forms of “old money,” in which their wealth is flaunted with ornate mansions, tracts of land, and butlers. Fancy knights’ armor may even be present, as shown by the father character Sir James Catton (played by the ineffable Richard E. Grant). Regional accents are also a significant indicator of class, with Oliver’s Merseyside accent contrasting noticeably from the “Received Pronunciation” accents of the Cattons.
In The Talented Mr. Ripley, the cultural norms between classes are less explicit but just as present. The Greenleaf family, for example, comes from the “new money” of American industry, making their fortune in steel and using their wealth for lush New York City soirees and extensive trips to Europe. Though much of the American working class finds alienation and conflict through viewing this wealth, part of the American identity is the potential for the chance at getting rich. Beyond what was already discussed earlier about Tom’s call to action, part of what may also inspire Tom to take on this journey is the idea that he finally “struck gold” with this opportunity and that his toils of working-class life have finally paid off. One may also notice that though this film focuses on American class relations, much of it takes place in Italy. This contrasts greatly with the upper-class desires portrayed in Saltburn. In England, the rich wish for grand estates and domestic property. In America, as portrayed in The Talented Mr. Ripley, the rich seem to only want to leave America, with their homeland acting only as a place of business.
Conclusion: On “Eat the Rich” Films
In recent years and especially after the COVID-19 pandemic, much has been said about class representation and relations in film, with countless online think pieces and video essays popping up frequently. Films like the Knives Out franchise and television shows like Succession highlight the follies and chaos of bourgeois interests. Other films like Parasite and The Menu shows contempt of the rich, leading to twisted but satisfying scenes of violence towards the bourgeoisie. Critics and writers have noticed this trend since 2019, calling this subgenre “eat the rich” films, which ironically capitalize on the further collective alienation that the working classes (and shrinking middle classes) are facing. This desire for seeing the rich pay has partially contributed to the popularity of Saltburn and a resurgence of discussions around The Talented Mr. Ripley. Though both films take place in different countries, time periods, and cultures, in the end, a quote from Parasite director Bong Joon Ho rings true: “essentially, we all live in the same country called capitalism.”
Zachary Diaz is a writer, musician, and lecturer on music and cultural studies. Originally from Dallas, Texas, he received his PhD in Musicology from the University of Bristol in 2023. He has lectured and presented research on music and popular culture at a number of international universities and conferences, such as Cambridge University, New York University, and the Royal College of Music of Stockholm. He has previously written on film in the UK magazine Filmmakers Without Cameras. He currently lives in Bristol, England with his partner Kelli and enjoys going to pubs, reading, and video games