Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Austin Peters
Starring: Elizabeth Banks, Lewis Pullman, Luis Gerardo Méndez, Michaela Jaé (MJ) Rodriguez, Nathan
Fillion
The rapid rise of AI has focussed much attention on the practice of
creating "deepfake" nudes by digitally adding someone's (predominantly a
woman's) face to the body of a porn star or nude model. One of the first
cases to bring the threat of deepfakes to light came in 2014 when celebrity
skincare specialist Dawn DaLuise was accused of plotting to kill professional rival Gabriel
Suarez, who had opened a skincare clinic in the same commercial block as
her own. DaLuise claimed that Suarez had attempted to destroy her life and
business by flooding the internet with fake images of her face grafted
onto pornographic pictures. DaLuise asked a former NFL player to murder
Suarez, but was acquitted after spending 10 months in jail when no
evidence was uncovered of anyone actually putting her plot in
motion.
Austin Peters' directorial debut Skincare opens with
text describing it as a "fictional story based on true events." It never
actually references the DaLuise case, and even its lead actress
Elizabeth Banks claims she was unware of its influence, but it's
very much based on that case nonetheless. So much so that you should avoid
reading the full details of the case before watching Skincare, as it will spoil some of the film's twists.
Banks plays Hope Goldman, who has spent two decades building up her
reputation as one of Hollywood's most sought after skincare specialists.
Despite this, she's struggling financially, with her clinic under threat
due to unpaid rent. Hope has bet everything on her business being saved by
the imminent launch of her new line of skincare products. She tapes a
segment on a morning TV chat show which is set to air in a few days' time,
giving the launch a much needed media boost.
Hope's world begins to collapse when the vacant property across from her
clinic becomes home to "Shimmer by Angel," a similar clinic run by rising
skincare star Angel Vergara (Luis Gerardo Méndez). When Hope's email is hacked, sending
explicit messages to her entire contacts list, she immediately suspects
it's the work of Angel, believing him desperate to ruin her business. The
fake messages are simply the beginning however, as deepfake nudes of Hope
begin to appear online, and her morning show segment is dropped and
replaced with an interview with... yep, Angel. Determined to expose Angel
and met with general disinterest from the police, Hope enlists the aid of
Jordan (Lewis Pullman), a self-described "life coach" who claims he
can solve anyone's problems.
Skincare is something of a cousin of films like
To Die For and
I, Tonya, in which attractive blonde women take sinister action to get ahead in
their professions. The difference here is that Hope is far from ruthless in
her ambitions. If anything she's rather passive in how she promotes
herself, relying on her natural charm and likeable nature rather than any
under-handed tactics. But there's something about Angel that sets her down
a dark path. Akin to how some women will take an immediate and irrational
dislike to a new co-worker, Hope convinces herself that Angel is the
enemy, despite no evidence to support this theory. She finds herself amid
an increasingly violent escalation simply by the company she keeps,
falling under the influence of the sinister Jordan and a smitten mechanic
(Erik Palladino) who would do "anything" for her. The ruthless
Jordan is almost a physical manifestation of the dark side she has long
kept suppressed.
Banks has a range that allows her to excel in comedic and dramatic roles,
to play loveable heroines and bitchy villains with equal conviction. It's
a talent that makes her ideal casting in the role of Hope, who is
outwardly a ditzy blonde caricature but knows how to manipulate people,
especially men, when she needs to. The role never fully plays to her
strengths though, and despite its blackly comic undercurrent there's scant
opportunity for Banks to unleash her unique human Miss Piggy persona.
Despite her life crumbling around her, Hope never quite seems as angry as
she should be given the circumstances. As both the film's victim and
villain, we can never quite empathise with Hope as much as the narrative
requires us to, and so Skincare becomes something of a
passive experience as we resign ourselves to sitting back and seeing where
it goes next.
Peters and cinematographer Christopher Ripley do a fine job of
painting Los Angeles as a glossy wonderland with a dark undercurrent, all
shimmering surfaces casting unflattering reflections. A city of excess, LA
has always felt stuck in the 1980s, and Skincare looks as
though it's set in the same world and era as something like Paul
Schrader's American Gigolo. The more blackly comic crime fiction of writers like Carl Hiaasen and
Elmore Leonard appears to be an influence too, especially in the roster of
quirky but dangerous supporting characters, all of whom are desperate to
fulfil ambitions of their own. But evoking prior works of American fiction
isn't enough to make Skincare stand on its own, and we're
left to settle for surface thrills as the film never quite explores its
characters or themes with enough depth to make it anything more than a
mildly entertaining time-passer. Ironically, Skincare is as
superficial as the service its anti-heroine provides her image-obsessed
clients.
Skincare is on UK/ROI VOD from November 11th.
