REVIEW: Sick of Myself (dir. Kristoffer Borgli)

WHO’S IN SICK OF MYSELF?

Kristine Kujath Thorp, Eirik Sæther, Fanny Vaager, Andrea Bræin Hovig, Henrik Mestad, Anders Danielsen Lie, Steinar Klouman Hallert, Fredrik Stenberg Ditlev-Simonsen, Sarah Francesca Brænne, Ingrid Vollan

WHO’S BEHIND THE CAMERA?

Kristoffer Borgli (director, writer, editor), Dyveke Bjørkly Graver and Andrea Berentsen Ottmar (producers), Turns (composer), Benjamin Loeb (cinematographer)

WHAT’S IT ABOUT?

A young woman (Thorp) in a highly competitive relationship goes to dangerous new lengths for attention…

WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS ON SICK OF MYSELF?

Narcissists crave attention – it is a scientific fact, ask any medical professional – and Signe, the protagonist as portrayed by Kristine Kujath Thorp in writer-director Kristoffer Borgli’s deeply uncomfortable Norwegian dark comedy Sick of Myself, is the textbook definition of attention-seeking narcissism.

Throughout, she commits a series of unhinged, mean-spirited acts just so she can divert all the eyes in the room from whomever or whatever may be the main focus and straight onto her, because in her mind she is the absolute centre of a universe that she feels hasn’t given her enough love and affection, and wants everyone to know what a kind, caring, and overall angelic person she is.

You might already be thinking to yourself, “I don’t want to watch a movie about this horrible-sounding person,” and your gut instinct may be onto something there. However, as sadistic as it may sound, there is some darkly humorous pleasure to be found in watching not just this person but also the equally vain people around her go to the deepest, darkest depths of their souls for the pettiest and most absurd of self-serving goals, and while it surprisingly may not go as far down as it perhaps could, Sick of Myself works well enough as sharp-fanged social satire to make for uncomfortably funny entertainment.

In the film, Thorp’s Signe is a young woman in a relationship with up-and-coming artist Thomas (Eirik Sæther), whose M.O. is to basically steal items such as expensive bottles of wine or whole sofas and place them in his art exhibitions. Thomas, however, is a blatant narcissist, and Signe is slowly but surely catching up to him as their rather toxic bond is made up of constant one-ups over each other, designed to win the attention of everyone around them.

After a bloody incident at work, Signe gets an addicting taste for public attention under the pretence of victimhood, and so she obtains some Russian-manufactured medication that has been reported to cause serious skin disease, all so she can be placed in the spotlight as a poor victim of a mysterious illness, gaining everyone’s sympathy and maybe even some career opportunities as a model.

The film is all about the insane lengths that a person who is way too fond of themselves will go just to obtain notoriety, a relevant lesson in today’s image-obsessed society where people will physically injure themselves for social media views or even say the vilest things imaginable for political gain. Here, that is taken to wildly disturbing new heights as Signe, as well as Thomas, take increasingly dangerous measures to feed their self-absorption, and rarely seem to take anything away from the consequences of satisfying their hungering hubris.

Signe, in particular, takes risks that would get her cancelled in a snap were she living in a less heightened reality, such as faking a nut allergy when she’s at a dinner party and she’s upset that nobody is talking to her, or abusing a dog enough to where it will bite her out of retaliation, before culminating in the shocking (and, thanks to some very convincing make-up and prosthetics, heavily detailed) display of corroded skin due to the faulty medication she knowingly takes, like a twisted modern interpretation of Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Borgli, to his credit, recognises how his story and characters may not be the easiest combo to digest, and doesn’t dare to give them the kind of redemption arc that they may think they deserve; they made their bed, and now must lie in it, with the long-term consequences of their frightfully selfish actions hanging over them like a cot mobile. Because of that, though, Sick of Myself can be an extremely bitter pill to swallow, as it constantly asks the viewer to stay with these protagonists whose sympathy and likeability decreases by the minute, which more often than not can be something of an endurance test for anyone with zero tolerance for narcissistic personalities.

However, the way in which the plot slowly unfolds, as well as the utterly fearless (and, ironically, ego-free) lead turn by Kristine Kujath Thorp, does in a strange way still make you want to see how this horrible journey eventually reaches its crescendo. There is a guilty curiosity you have for seeing how far Signe or Thomas will let themselves go for attention, and if they actually do learn any lessons after everything, although Borgli’s script ends up leaving things on a note that isn’t exactly unsatisfactory but more like there’s a bit more to explore than where we finish. You get the feeling that there are places where Sick of Myself could have gone to that might have been even more depraved and shocking than it allows itself to (though that isn’t to say the places we do end up going aren’t jaw-dropping already), which leaves one to wonder if the full potential of this crazed concept has been fully explored.

While some parts may leave you feeling a little empty, it’s hard not to respect the guts that this movie has to submit audiences to a ninety-odd-minute spectacle of some truly awful people doing even worse things to themselves and each other, all to satisfy their misplaced conception that they are the greatest humans to ever set foot on planet Earth and must be observed at all times.

It’s bold, sharp, darkly funny, fearlessly performed, and about as unsafe as it can possibly get without descending into all-out chaos – and you might just perversely enjoy it, so long as you can stomach a lead character who actually deserves to be in a Norwegian film titled The Worst Person in the World.

SO, TO SUM UP…

Sick of Myself is an uncomfortably cruel Norwegian dark comedy that may test audiences’ patience with its grotesquely narcissistic lead characters, and leaves things on an empty note, but a solid pitch-black sense of humour and a fearless, and ironically ego-free, lead turn by Kristine Kujath Thorp manage to hold your interest against your better judgement.

Sick of Myself is showing in cinemas from

Friday 21st April 2023

Click here to find showtimes near you!