It’s been five years since Kristoffer Borgli graced us with his feature film debut Drib – a satirical mockumentary about a real-life energy drink campaign that got way out of control – which showed just how easily the fine line between fact and fiction can become blurred when we’re forced to make sense of an ever-evolving world of senselessness around us. And now, the LA-based Norwegian filmmaker has returned with yet another prickly observation of human discord that seems to enjoy mocking its subject even more than the last.
The aptly titled Sick of Myself might not be an easy movie to watch, but it’s worth enduring for its sharp dissection of modern society that’s told through a darkly comical mix of Cronenbergian body horror and Lanthimos absurdism.
Desperate Measures
Borlgi‘s latest experiment is an anti-romance that follows Signe (Kristine Kujath Thorp) and Thomas (Eirik Sæther), a young couple who are best described as the worst kind of company. Childish, self-absorbed, and competitive for all the wrong reasons, they are the living and breathing example of “two wrongs don’t make a right” and yet somehow they’re still together. The only thing they have in common is a constant craving to seek validation from others, but when Thomas’ latest installation is accepted into a reputable art gallery, the limelight shifts from Signe entirely and she must go to greater lengths to get it back. Unfortunately, walking the streets soaked in a stranger’s blood and pretending to have nut allergies at formal dinner parties prove to be less than effective ways to sustain people’s attention, so Signe decides to turn it up a notch. With the help of Stian (Steinar Klouman Hallert) – an old friend and introverted drug dealer still living with his mother who also happens to be the film’s most empathetic character – Signe orders a bunch of illegal drugs via the dark web with known side effects that cause severe skin deformations.
When the package finally arrives, Signe starts popping pills like there’s no tomorrow and it doesn’t take long before the symptoms start to show. Of course, the plan works to an extent. Thomas makes some half-hearted gestures to comfort her, but somehow they always circle back to polishing his own ego. Their reasonably normal group of friends also give Signe the sympathy that she wants, but they still keep her at an arm’s length; it’s less a fear of not knowing if she’s contagious than it is having an aversion to her air of self-absorption. Although, Signe’s chain of bad choices does eventually pay off when an article about her ordeal gets published and she’s recruited by a modelling agency that prides themselves on showcasing disfigured individuals to promote ‘inclusivity’. This shortcut to success ultimately brings Signe to her senses while at a professional photo shoot, where she realises that her self-inflicted condition has passed the point of no return and her newfound stardom is tainted with the irrevocable damage that she’s caused to herself and others.
Delusions of Grandeur
Similar to this year’s Palme d’Or winning Triangle of Sadness, Sick of Myself is executed with a foreign zaniness that seems to be the brand of Nordic cinema as of late. The script is grounded in the real world even when it corkscrews into moments of complete absurdity, and that’s a good thing since Thorp is so skilled at juggling a range of emotional and physical transformations to lighten the mood, which also makes Borgli‘s social commentary much easier to digest. That idiosyncratic balance is at its best when Signe slips into daydreams that fuel her appetite for fame and it is inside those visions that we see how out-of-touch with reality she truly is; it takes a pretty narcissistic person to fantasise about their own funeral while relishing in the collective devastation of their loved ones, but it becomes a whole new kettle-of-fish when that same fantasy includes uninvited guests being denied entry to the funeral as if the church has the same exclusivity as Studio 54.
Whether or not it was Borgli‘s intention, the film recalls the gonzo style of video-nasties like Street Trash and Body Melt, in which toxic substances are responsible for the slimy, sickening, and sometimes even fluorescent decay of the human form. While not a traditional horror, this story is outlandish enough to withstand a lot of its gruesome turns and also observant enough to justify why ridiculing certain stereotypes to such a degree is artistically acceptable. If the director’s array of short films hadn’t already showcased his obsession with outer image and how that can make or break our position in the world, Sick of Myself will surely be the one to clarify that. That being said, Borgli‘s message doesn’t go much deeper than comparing the so-called ‘sexiness’ of a Gen-Z duck face pose to the literal grotesqueness of a monster, but it really doesn’t need to. We should be thankful that ‘subtly’ isn’t a part of Borgli‘s cinematic vocabulary, because the serious version of this movie could have been slightly too on-the-nose.
A Cure For (Un) Wellness
Even if the movie’s self-deprecating title suggests that it’s about its audience just as much as its shameless protagonist, it quickly becomes clear that Borgli is far less interested in mocking those who like attention over those who prefer playing the victim to get it. For that reason, Sick of Myself is a total condemnation of 21st-century narcissism that uses its idiosyncratic style and a high cringe-factor to remind us that society is only going to get worse each time one of us hit ‘like’ on the next carefully-orchestrated selfie that pops up on our Instagram feed. It’s a deranged and delightfully cynical work of art that proves attention-seeking for the sake of fame always comes at a much higher cost than living in the shadows of other people’s success.
Have you seen Sick of Myself? If so, do you think it’s an accurate depiction of the world we’re living in? Leave your comments in the section below.
Sick of Myself will be released in the UK on October 6th and US dates are yet to be revealed. For other release dates, please click here.
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