Did you know some parasites feed on other parasites? That's the basic premise of writer/director Emerald Fennell's Saltburn, a tangy, psychosexual satire about the have-somes and the have-mores. In Fennell's gorgeously shot hellscape, the rich are imprisoned in their castles, paranoid dullards lobotomized by luxury.
Barry Keoghan is Oliver, a nobody who wiggled into snooty Oxford on a scholarship. He befriends beloved Felix, who is to the manor born. They fall in straight dude love and spend the summer lounging around Felix's family's family's sprawling country estate.
Keoghan's college kid is a slippery one, a single white bloodsucker, a secret stalker who slurps dirty bathwater. He's no working-class hero, though—just a smart middle-class kid horny for real estate and aristocrats. As Felix, Jacob Elordi is a hunky human sacrifice. Rosamund Pike and Richard E. Grant are splendid as upper-crust zombies. The lords and ladies never stood a chance.
When Barry Keoghan shows up in your picture, unpleasant things are likely to occur.
Of course, I couldn't Google it fast enough. I'm going to wait for it to hit AP, but it's definitely on the list. I did watch the Argentine horror movie whose name escapes me at the moment. It's very well-made and creep af. I watched a French film recently - I think it's called Lockdown Tower. It's really good but about as dark and depressing and bleak and relentless as anything I've seen in a long time. I can't even recommend it in good conscience.