Sick of Myself
[Blu-ray]
Blu-ray A - America - Vinegar Syndrome Review written by and copyright: Eric Cotenas (25th July 2023). |
The Film
Amanda (Best Film): Andrea Berentsen Ottmar and Dyveke Bjørkly Graver (nominee), Best Actress: Kristine Kujath Thorp (nominee), Best Screenplay: Kristoffer Borgli (nominee), Best Editing: Kristoffer Borgli (nominee), and Best Make-Up: Izzi Galindo and Dimitra Drakopoulou (nominee) - Amanda Awards, 2023 Un Certain Regard Award: Kristoffer Borgli (nominee) - Cannes Film Festival, 2022 Signe (The Burning Sea's Kristine Kujath Thorp) is a café barista who feels constantly overshadowed by her artist boyfriend Thomas (Munch's Eirik Sæther). The pair are thick-as-thieves when the stealing avant garde furniture Thomas uses to create his sculptures, but he undermines her when she makes up occupations and hobbies at parties and dinners to seem more interesting. In turn, Signe casually reduces Thomas' art to what it really is: stacking stolen objects in off-kilter angles as some sort of comment on society; that is, until Thomas lands an exhibition and starts to get media attention. After an incident at the café involving a dog attack on a customer that leaves her covered in blood, Signe experiences a thrill upon being mistaken for the victim. Signe gradually embellishes her account of the incident to seem more heroic; however, when interest fades, she looks for another means of getting attention. Reading an article about a skin infection caused by abuse of a Russian painkiller called Lixedol, Signe approaches upper-class pill-pushing loner friend Stian (Hope's Steinar Klouman Hallert) about obtaining the drug. She starts ingesting the pills, and the first external signs of the drug's side effects are a rash on her arms and face; however, she is unable to account for lost time as she falls asleep in public periodically, and Thomas is not sufficiently-concerned until she wakes up from a nap with her face entirely swollen and unrecognizable. The hospital is unable to diagnose this inexplicable infection, and that in itself brings her to the attention of the media; but she is not okay with that until the swelling fades and her mother takes her to a homeopathic clinic where group therapy has the unintended effect of showing her how to better manipulate others through clearer expression of her symptoms. A news article sympathetically-penned by journalist friend Marte (Fanny Vaager) leads to greater attention and a modeling contract by an inclusive agency that gives her the opportunity to "spread awareness." Unfortunately for Signe, the drugs are continuing to change her body chemistry both inside and out to horrifying extremes. The feature debut of Norwegian filmmaker Kristoffer Borgli, Sick of Myself is a blackly-comic spin on the "body horror" that subgenre that is most Cronenbergian not in its moments of prosthetic grisliness but in its character study of how a narcissist psychological adapts to the physiological changes brought on by an infection. Although Brandon Cronenberg explored a viral form of celebrity obsession in Antiviral, Sick of Myself's clout-seeking through victimhood is closer to recent social media stories of influencers voluntarily handicapping themselves for attention under the guise of "making a statement" or "spreading awareness." The latter half of the film moves between reality and Signe's delusions of grandeur and increasing paranoia quite seamlessly to the point where some extremely absurd sequences could be mistaken for real until Signe is shown waking up in more mundane circumstances; but Signe would be a pathetic joke of a character had director Borgli not masterfully crafted the first half of the film around the passive-aggressive and often nonverbal interplay between Signe and Thomas and how their relationship morphs with her body. A sequence in which Thomas notices the odd looks he and a face-masked Signe receive on the bus seems tender for a moment until the viewer realizes that Thomas has realized that playing the supportive and devoted boyfriend is attractive and admirable to onlookers. Signe's dream of a television show appearance includes being caught off-guard by appearances of her repentant estranged father and the one friend too freaked out to visit her in the hospital, and ends with her being asked to sing a song on the air. The pair are able to achieve physical intimacy over Thomas relating a dream about Signe's exclusive guest-listed funeral. The climax of the film becomes very sticky and her confessional does not become the bestselling autobiography of which she dreamt; however, the peace Signe achieves at the end is that of someone who has managed to disavow all responsibility for their condition.
Video
Shot on 35mm film in the 2-perf Techniscope process and then cropped on the sides to the intended 1.85:1 aspect ratio for release, Sick of Myself comes to 1080p24 MPEG-4 AVC 1.85:1 widescreen Blu-ray possess the clean, cool sheen associated with Nordic cinema. Fine detail is always excellent, but perhaps our assessment of it is only "skin deep" until Signe's symptoms start showing externally via different stages of prosthetic appliances that are open for reassessment with repeat viewings revealing more subtle changes to the protagonist's facial features between the major stages.
Audio
Audio tracks include Norwegian DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 and 2.0 stereo. The mix is generally front-oriented with the surrounds used for spare atmosphere, spread to the score, and lending a sense of subtle irreality to Signe's fantasies and delusions. Optional English subtitles are free of any obvious errors.
Extras
The film is accompanied by an audio commentary by writer/director/editor Kristoffer Borgli – which is in English like all of the disc's extras apart from the theatrical trailer (1:55) – in which he discusses the origins of the concept in the idea of a girl with a skin disease and stories about bohemians living a "stolen" upper-class life, and exploring the "economy of victimhood" that started to crop up around 2017 and became more pronounced subsequently on social media and inclusive ad campaigns. He reveals that he lived in Oslo until he was thirty and moved to Hollywood where he started developing the screenplay and continued developing Signe's infection looks with effects artist Izzi Galindo as proof of concept during lockdown. Of the shoot, he discusses finding locations and adapting the script to them as well as needing security not only for some of the locations but for several of the pieces of "stolen" furniture. "Negative Impulses" (22:18) is a video interview with Borgli in which he rehashes a lot from the commentary but also covers his teenage years working in a video store and discovering cinema, basing the prosthetic looks on various fungal growths, and the meaning of the Burroughsian fictional drug name. "So, So, So Toxic" (19:01) is an interview with actress Thorp in which she recalls being a fan of Borgli's shorts and music videos and writing to inquire about working with him before she became an actress, her reaction to the script as both "extremely sad and funny," feeling ashamed of how relatable some aspects of Signe's personality were to her, and the difficulty of wearing the prosthetics during the summer shoot. "A Skewed View" (15:15) is an interview with actor Sæther who recalls being able to relate to his character since he has been involved in the art world, initially being involved in the project as a consultant on the artwork, and approaching the artwork from the perspective of an artist while realizing that viewers have to "get" the concept with limited screen time given to the pieces. "Living Sculptures" (18:09) is an interview with prosthetic makeup artist Galindo who discusses meeting Borgli in Los Angeles, developing the "proof of concept" looks, going to Norway to work on the film, the stages of Signe's looks, and his sympathy for Thorp having to wear the prosthetics. "Eer" (8:55) is a 2021 short film written, directed, and starring Borgli that shares some thematic elements with the feature since it was shot during the delay in pre-production caused by lockdown. "Abject Bodies in Transgressive Arthouse Cinema" (15:41) is a video essay by film historian Samm Deighan who discusses cinema's use of transgressive bodies as a "harsh critique of mainstream society" contextualizing the feature in such underground, grindhouse, and arthouse works by the like of John Waters, Andy Warhol, Paul Morrissey and others.
Packaging
The limited edition available exclusively from Vinegar Syndrome comes in a keep case with a reversible cover and a 16-page booklet with essay by Sabina Stent housed in a hardbox designed by artist Beth Morris.
Overall
The grisly and absurd Sick of Myself is somehow quite relatable and understandable in this age of some of the most shameless and shocking social media clout-chasing.
|
|||||