Ripley vs Saltburn: Class Envy and Screen Villain Authenticity

Movie villains fascinate us because they embody our repressed dark impulses, anger, and aggression that society and education force us to suppress; according to Freud's Totem and Tabou theory, we all possess these forbidden desires that we keep unconscious, and fictional villains allow us to observe these impulses while maintaining psychological distance, revealing that the Id (our unconscious, instinctual self) drives our capacity for malice, though true villainy requires specific psychological structures including trauma, cognitive abilities, manipulative tendencies, narcissism, and objectification of others.

Sigmund Freud, the founding father of psychoanalysis, developed the psyche theory through three essential components: the id, ego, and superego. This structural model, called the psychic apparatus, uses the iceberg analogy where the conscious mind (top of iceberg) is what we are aware of, while the unconscious mind (bottom) is much larger and contains memories, beliefs, urges, and instincts that influence behavior. Psychoanalytic film theory is used to understand character behavior and motives, representing internal conflict (man versus self), character imagination, and leaving poignant impressions on viewers. Films like Vertigo and Taxi Driver demonstrate how this theory applies across different cultural settings.

Christian Metz, a prominent figure in screen theory, developed a psychoanalytic perspective on film and spectatorship, arguing that cinema operates through a unique form of signification that engages both visual and auditory faculties while simultaneously directing perception toward absence; he applied Lacan's mirror stage theory to propose that film functions like a mirror reflecting the spectator's imaginary self, with the spectator experiencing two fundamental dispositions—voyeurism (unauthorized scopophilia reinforced by institutional features like darkness and anonymity) and fetishism (pleasure derived from the gap between the film's apparent presence and its underlying absence)—thereby creating a distinctive psychological experience where spectators recognize themselves in the cinematic image while knowing they are perceiving something imaginary.

Psychoanalytic film theory analyzes films by examining the human mind rather than just the story, exploring hidden feelings, desires, fears, and internal conflicts. Developed during the 1960s-1970s, it draws from Freud's concepts of the unconscious mind, which stores hidden thoughts and memories. Freud proposed three mind parts: the id (basic impulses), superego (moral rules), and ego (balancing force). Repression pushes uncomfortable thoughts into the unconscious, where they return as anxiety, dreams, or hallucinations. Lacan added the mirror stage, where identity forms through reflection but remains unstable. Films use mirrors, symbolism, and hallucinations to reveal these psychological struggles.

Psychoanalysis is defined as the study of how the past shapes the present. Freud discovered the unconscious mind (the basement of people's minds), while Jung excavated and expanded this work. People act out things they don't understand, guided by unconscious desires. Psychoanalysis helps recover unconscious material into conscious awareness for greater self-control. Films can be analyzed through this lens because characters often act out of past trauma they are not consciously aware of. Dreams are not random but have unconscious methodology, and films similarly represent 'shadows on the cave wall' revealing deeper psychological truths. The film 'Men' by Alex Garland is chosen as a case study because it features a woman processing traumatic events, with the question of how much is in her mind being central to the narrative.

Creating memorable antagonists requires six key elements: (1) Mythical background that mixes truth with fiction, forcing players to reconcile contradictions; (2) Player anticipation built through strategic information release across multiple encounters; (3) Ideological consistency that makes motivations understandable and not contradicted by actions; (4) Visual and behavioral uniqueness that distinguishes the character from other enemies; (5) Intimidation through imposing appearance, voice, dangerous home base, and demonstrated power; (6) A memorable final confrontation that stands out from other encounters. The Master from Fallout: New Vegas exemplifies these principles with his grotesque appearance, multi-voice speech, consistent ideology, and unique death sequence.

Effective storytelling requires understanding character psychology. Both protagonists and antagonists share deficiencies and trauma, but differ in their responses: protagonists overcome their wounds while antagonists avoid and deny their pain. This avoidance leads to emotional impairment and potentially criminal behavior. To create compelling antagonists, grant them legitimacy through their own struggles. When characters share similar deficiencies but pursue positive growth, they can both serve as protagonists, creating complex narratives where neither can be clearly defeated. The core principle is that both character types need deficiencies, with the key distinction being whether they overcome or fail to overcome their psychological challenges.

Effective antagonists require intelligence, ruthlessness, and cunning to create believable tension. They must seem like the hero has no chance of victory. The cat-and-mouse dynamic between opposing characters—precision versus chaos—creates compelling narrative tension. Memorable villains balance contradictory traits: coldness with warmth, precision with fluidity, ruthlessness with charm. This complexity makes audiences both fear and admire the character. Alan Rickman's approach of playing someone who wants certain things and makes certain choices rather than simply playing a villain demonstrates how nuanced motivation creates unforgettable antagonists that propel actors into superstardom.

Screenwriters create compelling characters by giving them desires, motivations, and goals. Every character action must have a rational motivation that makes sense, whether the audience agrees with it or not. In 'The Social Network,' screenwriter Aaron Sorkin conducted extensive research including interviews with real people and court documents to understand Mark Zuckerberg's motivations—the core motivation was social connection driven by fear of loneliness. George R.R. Martin uses crises to develop characters in 'A Song of Ice and Fire,' believing there are no purely good or evil characters—instead, characters move between good and evil based on circumstances. Crisis reveals a character's true nature. Bran Stark was the most difficult character to write because he was only eight years old; Martin gave him physical strength but then removed it through a sudden accident, leaving him paralyzed. This crisis made him depressed and isolated, which prepared him to believe in magic and embark on a long journey behind the wall. Tyrion Lannister's sharp intelligence and extensive reading developed as survival mechanisms in response to his constant suffering since birth. A common mistake screenwriters make is giving protagonists weak motivations that fail to convince audiences. Strong motivation increases the protagonist's desire to achieve their goal and overcome obstacles, thereby capturing audience attention. In 'The Revenant,' director Andrew Garfield initially had the protagonist's son die accidentally in the opening, but this motivation was deemed too weak because the film was not just about survival. Garfield changed the script so the son was killed in front of the father, giving the protagonist a stronger motivation for revenge and survival.

Designing antagonist and mature characters requires deliberate choices that visually communicate their nature. Older antagonists typically have longer, more angular faces with triangular jawlines. Eyes are placed higher on the face to create severity, taking on angular shapes rather than rounded ones. Adding more lines to the face—detailed nose bridges instead of simple triangles—amplifies presence. Wrinkles near the eyes add character depth without making characters appear excessively aged. The goal is to move characters toward realism while maintaining stylization. These techniques allow artists to create instantly recognizable character identities based on visual cues alone, establishing character roles through design choices.

This section compares Saltburn to The Talented Mr. Ripley, noting similar plots of social aspiration. The critic argues Saltburn lacks the moral complexity of Ripley because Oliver's premeditated manipulation eliminates narrative tension and character development. Unlike Ripley's tragic descent into darkness, Saltburn presents calculated scheming without emotional stakes. The critic questions whether the film critiques elites or those who aspire to join them, noting Oliver comes from a stable family and performs marginality rather than surviving poverty. The analysis reveals how attention to visual detail can overshadow narrative construction, and how contemporary class critiques require more than aesthetic appreciation of privilege.

The film 'Saltburn' can be understood as a twisted, modernized version of 'The Talented Mr. Ripley' and 'Parasite', drawing inspiration from classic films like 'The Talented Mr. Ripley' and 'Parasite'. The film's unique elements include its beautiful cinematography by talented director Sandreen and hidden symbolism that reveals hidden details and transforms the plot completely.

The 1960 French film Purple Noon (Purple Noon), starring Alain Delon as Tom Ripley, serves as the original source material for both The Talented Mr. Ripley and the modern film Saltburn. Unlike Saltburn's shallow interpretation where the protagonist gets away with everything, Purple Noon delivers a more nuanced exploration of desire, class exploitation, and psychological manipulation, featuring a charismatic and layered performance by Alain Delon that captures Ripley's sophisticated yet ultimately doomed trajectory.

Parasite is described as the most fun and light-hearted horror movie ever made, which is an ironic description given its dark themes. Saltburn reviews mention a character taking the longest bath of all time, which is a memorable scene from the film. These reviews use specific plot references to identify movies.

The film 'Saltburn' (2023), directed by Emerald Fennell, presents a macabre satire exploring class differences and obsessive desire through the story of Oliver, a scholarship student at Oxford University who gains access to the wealthy Felix's ancestral estate in Southbourne, where he indulges in increasingly excessive behavior that ultimately reveals the dark underbelly of aristocratic privilege and the destructive nature of unchecked obsession.