Arriving recently from Vinegar Syndrome Pictures (VS’s sub-label that finances and distributes newer films like Censor and The Scary of Sixty-First) comes this twisted Norwegian dark comedy from the director of the under-seen weirdo cult film Drib. Pop a bunch of Lidexol and revel in the adulation because it’s time to dig in!
Signe is the girlfriend of an up-and-coming artist named Thomas who makes sculptures from stolen furniture, and she finds herself increasingly marginalized and forced to compete for his affections and attention with others joining his ever-enlarging professional and social circle. Signe comes up with the drastic and potentially dangerous idea of overdosing on a certain medication which causes skin-marring side effects. The crazy thing is that this actually works, gaining her attention from the media and earning her a position as an icon of a new kind of damaged beauty. But what can be gained can also be lost just as quickly.
Sick of Myself is a biting social satire on the perception of beauty, taking stabs at the art and fashion world both as well as being a character study of a fascinating and increasingly unlikable person. Signe, even from the beginning, comes across as overly needy and somewhat mentally unhinged. But just to be clear, Thomas is also a huge self-obsessed asshole. No one really comes out unscathed in this battle of narcissism. Having such unlikable lead characters does give the film a kind of slo-mo train wreck draw to it. I’ve rarely been so repelled and yet so fascinated to see where it was going. Also while Sick of Myself is not a horror film in the traditional sense, it is quite grotesque at times as Signe’s condition alters over the course of the movie. In fact, Sick of Myself traffics in the same kind of visceral physical and emotion responses that filmmakers like John Waters introduced over fifty years ago, what Samm Deighan in an included video essay in the extras on this refers to as “Transgressive Cinema” (which also includes the likes of David Cronenberg, Gaspar Noe and other such provocateurs of film). This is cinema designed to elicit controversy and to turn a mirror on society, showing it the ugliness within itself.
The film was shot in 35mm and the transfer reflects the source image quite nicely with a healthy amount of grain and little marring the video quality of the film. In fact, this is one where you might at times wish the quality of the video were a little lower. Seeing all the hideous scarring and oozing pus in hi-def isn’t the most appetizing way to spend a lazy afternoon. Also while this film isn’t the most action-packed out there, it includes a well-balanced DTS-HD 5.1 track, enhancing the ick factor admirably.
Vinegar Syndrome has given several nice extras here. We have interviews with the director, lead actress and actor as well as the makeup effects supervisor and all are pretty interesting. I particularly liked the interview with the makeup guy Izzi Galindo where he describes the various stages of the skin disease makeup and the challenges in doing it because frankly I just find behind-the-scenes effects stuff neat in general. It also includes the very interesting aforementioned visual essay by Samm Deighan, “Abject Bodies in Transgressive Arthouse Cinema” (yes, it sounds pretentious but actually provides some good info). Finally the disc also includes a short film directed by and starring the director of Sick of Myself, Kristoffer Borgli and co-starring Alia Shawkat (Arrested Development, Search Party). It’s another film using a grotesque body deformity to parlay its point and is a pretty nice short worth checking out if you dug Sick of Myself.
I’ll be the first to admit that this is not a film for everyone. It’s ugly, mean-spirited and foul all the way down to its coal-black heart. But it’s also quite funny and well-made. If you can handle some grotesque body horror in your dark comedies, I say check it out!