Skincare ★★½

Appearance is everything to Hope Goldman (Elizabeth Banks). As an aesthetician, it is her business, but it goes beyond money. She offers everybody around her a sample of her new moisturizer product. She is always looking in a mirror, adjusting her make-up, scrunching her wrinkles, or posing and trying to conjure the right look and stance. In the film’s opening and closing scene, a bit from an interview she does with television hosts Brett (Nathan Fillion) and Kylie (Julie Chang), Hope emphasizes that her “reputation” is pivotal. In the world of cosmetics and competing for the class of Hollywood clients that Hope is after, it is no wonder that she would panic after that reputation is threatened. Not only has her landlord rented out the storefront across the way from her to another facialist, but a mysterious campaign against her has been launched online. Lurid and desperate emails were sent to her clients and online sex ads were posted, threatening both her business and her life.

Directed by Austin Peters, Skincare is a neo-noir that finds its protagonist caught in a web. Threats seem to be coming from every direction, while every decision Hope makes to try and escape this perceived persecution only worsens her condition. So terrified that she would lose business to her rival store and its aesthetician Angel (Luis Gerardo Méndez), Hope embarks on a path of self-fulfilling prophecy that unravels in campy and thrilling ways. With a dash of I, Tonya filtered through the influences of classic noir, paranoia thrillers, 90s thrillers, and camp, this sun-kissed thriller follows a messy and engaging story. Drawing from the real life experience of Dawn DaLuise, who was arrested for a murder-for-hire scheme involving her business rival, the film follows Hope as she becomes convinced that Angel is involved with the campaign against her. Her delusions lead to her seeking the help of life coach Jordan (Lewis Pullman), who offers not only advice and a sounding board, but martial arts skills that could prove useful.

However, every move she makes only seems to worsen her position. There is a genuine scheme against her, one she initially tries to unravel before giving up her search and just settling into the answer that is Angel with her paranoid delusions convincing her further that he is responsible. Peters plays this well for comedy, highlighted by a scene of Hope following Angel home and watching him voyeuristically through his window. Convinced he is up to something nefarious and weird inside, she calls Jordan to alert him to the danger Angel poses. Alas, as some well-executed editing by Laura Zempel shows, Angel is just singing karaoke to unwind and Jordan is busy dancing to Katy Perry’s ‘Teenage Dream’, snorting cocaine, and shooting horrible life coaching videos. Her increasing conviction that Angel is guilty also plays out in some highly campy ways with her convinced that every customer she loses to him is a personal act of betrayal and sabotage, not just typical business goings-on.

In this world of image and reputation, Hope feels hers slipping away with her powerless to stop the destruction. Every day reveals yet more evidence of a conspiracy around her, while her every action only digs her hole deeper. Trusting men like Jordan, mechanic Armen (Erik Palladino), and TV host Brett, only exacerbate her problem. Hope aims to use the affection of these men to her favor, but finds them to be a mixture of opportunistic conmen, stupid creeps, and manipulative creeps, while even her trusted assistant/head of public relations Marine (Michaela Jaé Rodriguez), is not able to offer much more than moral support. Hope’s once hard-nosed and confident exterior is being washed away to reveal the fragile and nervous ball of paranoid mush lurking within her. Everything she has worked for is about to be gone and, fatalistically, she is cursed to watch this empire crumble.

Skincare layers in commentary on the vapidness of Los Angeles life, the facades worn by all while proclaiming “realness”, the cut-throat world of beauty business, threats surrounding women in everyday life, and how challenging it is to control one’s narrative and image in the digital age. This proves to be too much, spreading the film quite thin with none of these ideas given any room to be explored in any depth while Peters lacks the craftsmanship to tie it all together into a cohesive package. An over-reliance on needle drops not only hurts the film’s mood, especially early on, but adds to the film’s cluttered feeling. It fortunately has enough surface-level appeal, but without any of these ideas coming together satisfactorily, it leaves Skincare feeling underwhelming.

Channeling the campy and dramatic excess of Lana Turner (the costume design with lavish accessories amplifies this feeling), Elizabeth Banks’ performance is central to everything Skincare attempts. Her being driven mad by this conspiracy, both real and imagined, demands a strong performance. Banks is up to the task, balancing her strong comedic roots with the dramatic and absurdist edge the role needs. Lewis Pullman is also impressive in a homme fatale role. Introduced as the young boy-toy to Hope’s client Colleen (Wendie Malick) who helps Colleen “feel relevant”, Jordan comes to provide the same for Hope. However, he proves just as dangerous as the other men looming around her with an agenda of his own. Pullman captures the wacky and deranged edge the character needs, stealing scenes throughout the film.

Skincare lacks depth but possesses plenty of ideas and influences in its fictionalized retelling of true events. Strong performances from Elizabeth Banks and Lewis Pullman anchor it, while director Austin Peters does well in wringing suspense and comedy out of its often over-the-top characters and developments. However, in stronger directorial hands or with a film willing to take more chances, Skincare could have been something more substantial. It has a lot of things to say and captures its sun-kissed, skin-deep world well, but Skincare is just a fine neo-noir thriller in the end.