Rating 7/10
Skincare opens with the disclaimer, “a fictional story inspired by actual events,” immediately setting the tone for the unsettling tale to follow. Austin Peters, who honed his craft directing commercials and music videos, makes his feature directorial debut. Collaborating with Sam Freilich and Deering Regan, Peters co-wrote a screenplay galvanized by the bizarre case of Dawn DaLuise, a small but influential aesthetician whose life took a dark turn. The film blends fact and fiction to recount the strange happenings that befall our protagonist.
Hope Goldman (Elizabeth Banks) is a dedicated Los Angeles aesthetician who has spent years cultivating a loyal client base in the city’s beauty-obsessed lifestyle. Marine (Michaela Jaé Rodriguez) is the fiercely loyal assistant who manages the business’s day-to-day operations while also serving as a confidante. As Hope prepares to launch her own cosmetics line, she faces mounting challenges, including financial strain and a demanding landlord (John Billingsley). If that wasn’t enough, fierce competition from a new facialist, Angel Vergara (Luis Gerardo Méndez), moves in directly across the street. Angel usurps a crucial TV interview with local anchor Brett Wright (Nathan Fillion), and begins to siphon off clients.
These developments eerily coincide with a series of malicious incidents that seek to ruin Hope’s reputation. Her email, website, and client list are hacked, and sexual images are posted on her accounts. Spam emails and explicit personal ads are also sent from her address. As Hope’s world unravels, she becomes increasingly paranoid. A life coach named Jordan (Lewis Pullman) and Armen, her mechanic (Erik Palladino), offer support.
Skincare immerses audiences in a world where the seductive allure of success in Hollywood can be a treacherous passion. From the iconic Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard to the aspiring starlets in The Neon Demon, Hope Goldman embodies the desperation and ambition that fuel LA’s glamour-centric society. The ability to present an ensemble of characters who can be simultaneously compelling, horrible, and funny is impressive. This fluctuates from thriller to satire as vanity and ego lead to absurd and tragic outcomes.
Hope’s admirable drive to chase the American dream contrasts sharply with her struggle to maintain a prosperous business while external forces undermine it. Elizabeth Banks is spot on as Hope Goldman, captivating the portrayal of a woman on the brink. Her character recalls Nicole Kidman in To Die For—another ambitious personality. Like Suzanne Stone, Hope Goldman navigates the unscrupulous path with an almost savage determination.
This sharp send-up of LA culture shines through in humorous details. Hope regularly gifts her moisturizer as a gesture of thanks. The act is laced with the underlying desire to keep people hooked. Elsewhere, dubious self-improvement guru Jordan offers to pay not with money but with his training. “No thanks. I’ll take the cash,” is the polite response. By blending elements of comedy with a psychological thriller, Skincare delivers a biting commentary on LA’s cutthroat beauty industry while keeping its “ugly on the inside” characters relatable.
Skincare skillfully crafts a narrative that keeps audiences engaged. Still, there are lingering misgivings. It’s hard to critique how the drama unfolds without revealing plot twists. However, Hope’s journey is fraught with avoidable blunders. Waiting patiently for the police investigation to conclude first or securing legal counsel to address the cyberattacks would have saved a lot of aggravation. The culprit is unveiled to the audience well before Hope is made aware. I would have waited even longer, although the reveal wasn’t a shock. Nevertheless, the clever blend of suspense and humor makes up for these oversights. The unfolding drama remains quite entertaining. Skincare may not have a flawless complexion, but it still leaves an impression.
08-20-24