Director: Kristoffer Borgli
Writer: Kristoffer Borgli
Stars: Kristine Kujath Thorp, Eirik Sæther, Fanny Vaager
Synopsis: Increasingly overshadowed by her boyfriend’s recent rise to fame as a contemporary artist creating sculptures from stolen furniture, Signe hatches a vicious plan to reclaim her rightfully deserved attention within the milieu of Oslo’s cultural elite.
With a more profound aggravating touch to his usual acerbic comedic sensibilities and a great “down for anything” performance by on-the-rise talent Kristine Kujath Thorp, Kristoffer Borgli satirically (and equally frustratingly) depicts the toxicity of competitive narcissism, egotistical sympathy, and victim mentality in our modern times with his latest work, Sick of Myself (Syk Pike).
Norwegian filmmaker Kristoffer Borgli has been interested in creating outlandish yet intriguing movies that cause significant reactions from the audience. His approach to filmmaking is somewhat absurdist, but not in the way of Quentin Dupieux or Leos Carax because he adds meta-commentative humor into his works, as seen in his 2017 mockumentary, Drib. Although that film was relatively lackluster and didn’t manage to achieve its full potential, many of us were intrigued by what he would do next. With his first film in five years, Borgli ups the ante, both for better and worse – mainly for the former. Titled Sick of Myself (Syk Pike), Borgli wants to take on, satirically, the obsessive narcissism that spreads like a virus among influencers and people obsessed with social media. And he does capture that feeling of competitive self-admiration, all through hilarious and annoying dialogue and scenarios that make and break the film. So is it worth indulging in the vanity of this farcical story? For the most part, yes!
Sick of Myself begins with a birthday celebration at a restaurant, where we meet our two unlikable young protagonists, Signe (Kristine Kujath Thorp) and Thomas (Eirik Sæther). Thomas wants to impress her by buying a two-thousand-dollar bottle of wine – the most expensive one in the locale. They both laugh at the absurdity of consuming such pricey liquor, pouring their glasses as if they have all the money in the world. Signe states that everyone is looking at her, even though most people eating there aren’t. These are the first signs of self-obsession and narcissism Borgli puts in the film, and there are many more where that came from. However, something peculiar is about to happen. Thomas asks Signe to go outside and pick up her phone. In my short experience as a waiter, this scene definitely frustrates me as I know exactly what is about to happen – I know of such incidents firsthand (I’m looking at you, the couple at table three). As she lights a cigarette in the street, Thomas runs away with the bottle; the waiter chases him to ensure he pays for his actions.
Immediately after, Signe delivers the quote that cements the film’s crux: “Narcissists are the ones who make it… combined with talent, it’s a plus.” Signe sure is narcissistic, but she lacks the talent to pull it off. Instead, she depends on desperation to acquire her daily dosage of conceit. The young couple lives in a stylish apartment with colorful paintings and a hodgepodge of stolen furniture. While the film’s introductory scene might present that their relationship is intact, the reality is the opposite. Toxicity runs through the longevity of their romance. Together they are amorously unhealthy; if you put them apart, you begin to notice that, in a way, they are meant for each other. The two of them constantly fight for attention wherever they go, whether at dinner with friends or parties in their apartment. When Thomas is headed for fame with his artistic work, Signe becomes bitter about it. So, Signe decides that she needs to fight for eyes to see her every move.
At first, it is minor, yet distasteful; lies about being attacked by a dog or having a nut allergy in front of Thomas’ dinner guests. Yet, later on in the narrative, her yearning for attention causes Signe to make very drastic decisions. She indulges in some illegal Russian drugs with a side-effect that triggers an allergic reaction — a rare skin disease that scars your face. Because she’s frantic enough to do engage in such actions that might jeopardize her health, Signe swallows one pill after another as if it was candy; her skin slowly breaking out to the point where she needs to be hospitalized due to her infection. And that’s precisely what she wants; with that hospitalization, Signe gets the egotistical sympathy that fuels her daily living. At this point in the story, many viewers will find themselves either annoyed or engaged with the film due to the excessive and tongue-in-cheek satire delivered by Borgli. When the Munchausen syndrome comes into play, that division between annoyance and entertainment will make or break the viewing experience for many.
Although I found some scenes rightfully annoying, I was intrigued by Sick of Myself’s satirical exploration of the modern-day pursuit of fame or being recognized, as well as tainted relationships. The characters in this film, largely the unhealthy pairing of our “protagonists”, are sick of one having more attention than the other, to the point where one decides to become ill to fuel the fire of their crumbling partnership. Borgli doesn’t want to let any of them off the hook for their actions, creating various brutal scenarios for them to cross paths into. But, of course, the person we see suffer the most, at least on the outside, is Signe, played by a fiery Kristine Kujath Thorp. Thorp is just having a blast with the material she’s been given. This performance demands a lot from her since it is a balancing act of making the audience disgusted by the character’s cruel decisions and care about her simultaneously – understanding why Signe is a manipulator and frequent liar.
Because Thorp is such a talented actress, you want to keep watching what other outrageous things her character will do next, even if it is morally repugnant or just plain erroneous. Borgli doesn’t shy away from showing us her transformation into a solipsistic monster. He implements elements in the story that both figuratively and literally shine a light on the different aspects of the main character’s victimhood and egocentricity. The main two are the clever script by the Norwegian director and the fantastic makeup work by Dimitra Drakopoulou and Izzi Galindo. The script focuses more on exploring how Signe has used her own suffering and illness as a tool (or sport) for her pleasures, as well as how Thomas’ antagonistic approach to their relationship served as a trigger for her downward path to self-destruction. Meanwhile, the highly well-crafted practical effects and makeup show the literal impact of her compulsive “look at me” mania.
There are gags in the movie that feel short-sighted, placed to create a reaction rather than to amplify the project’s themes. But, for the most part, Sick of Myself is pretty entertaining and witty. This film and Ruben Östlund’s Palme d’Or-winning Triangle of Sadness enjoy seeing people in pain and suffering because of their rash and questionable decisions. And honestly, I do too. There’s a magnetic feeling in seeing these satirical scenarios become more insane and corrupt by the minute. It is also hilarious that Sick of Myself was brought to us by the same people who made Joachim Trier’s Oscar-nominated film, The Worst Person in the World, because there is no close comparison between Renate Reinsve’s Julie and Kristine Kujath Thorp’s Signe. The former feels like she is the worst person in the entire world on the inside, while the latter is the pure definition of such a description. I’m definitely looking forward to Kristoffer Borgli’s next film, the Nicolas Cage-starring and A24-backed Dream Scenario.
Grade: B
