The twisted and darkly unnerving comedic thriller “Skincare” is basically “I, Tonya,” only with boutique spas instead of ice skating. Both movies are inspired by true stories (though “I, Tonya” is more directly connected to real-life events) and both movies feature a desperately ambitious blonde who becomes obsessed with a more polished and media-attractive rival and enlists the help of some shady, sad-sack associates as she gets entangled in dubious and even criminal endeavors.
And in both movies, nobody realizes how ridiculous and crazy their actions would appear to any rational onlooker. They’re too busy caught up in the web of ridiculous madness to take a step back and say, “This needs to stop, now.”
With music video director Austin Peters making his feature film debut and demonstrating a stylish gift for “sunshine noir,” as the genre is sometimes called, “Skincare” is set in the year 2013, which is like a millennium in Social Media Years. Elizabeth Banks takes big swings and connects far more often than she misses in her portrayal of one Hope Goldman, and how’s that for a name that pretty much defines her goals?
After 20 years of niche girlbossing as a West Hollywood aesthetician to the famous and wannabe-famous, Hope is banking everything on a launch of her own line of products; she’s even landed a spot on a popular morning TV chat show hosted by Brett Wright (Nathan Fillion) and Kylie Curson (Julie Chang). It’s right about that time that an innovative and ambitious newcomer named Angel Vergara (Luis Gerardo Méndez) opens a competing storefront spa just across the way, and from that moment forward, everything goes off the rails.
With Hopes clients defecting to Angel, Hope becomes the target an apparent stalker. Her tires are slashed and her email is hacked, making it appear as if she is sending confessional, sexually explicit emails to her entire client and contact base.
With cinematographer Christopher Ripley providing sterling visuals that capture the fringes of Hollywood showbiz and director Peters moving things along a brisk pace (running time is 94 minutes), “Skincare” becomes a portrait of a woman unraveling, and while Hope isn’t the most likable of characters, Banks infuses her with a kind of sad vulnerability that draws our empathy as Hope resorts to extreme measures to identify her tormentor, restore her reputation and save her business. But she has an unfortunate habit of depending on men of questionable character and motivations for help, whether it’s Fillion’s oily TV anchor, the neighborhood auto shop guy (Erik Palladino) who has ulterior motives, or a self-appointed young “life coach” (Lewis Pullman). The most reliable and trustworthy person in Hope’s life is probably her assistant/PR manager Marine (Michaela Jaé Rodriguez), but Hope is too frantic and self-involved to see that.
“Skincare” sometimes veers into broad satire, but it gets the details right. Director Peters doesn’t condescend to the characters, and he even manages to deliver a scene that proves there’s still a little life in the Karaoke Trope, and that’s no small feat. “Skincare” is like a quick trip to the local spa. It’s not going to change your life, but it provides instant gratification and helps you escape for an hour and a half.