When it comes to satirical dark comedy/thrillers, I’m the kind of person who will always be on board for the outlandish nature and commitment to the gimmick. But what happens when a dark comedy/thriller satire fails to commit to either genre? The answer is Skincare—a film that stumbles in both its satire and its commentary, ultimately becoming one of 2024’s most disappointing outings.
How did we get here? The intrigue surrounding Skincare began with a tantalizing poster reminiscent of 1989’s Society and a promising trailer that hinted at a descent into absurdity. The premise follows Hope Goldman, a skincare entrepreneur whose latest product launch is threatened by new competition in town, compounded by a damaging email sent from her account. This email sets Hope on a journey to uncover the saboteur and put an end to the chaos.
Co-written by Sam Frelich and Deering Regan and directed by Austin Peters, Skincare‘s screenplay suffers from an identity crisis. The first half of the film hints at satirical vibes but then awkwardly shifts into dark thriller territory. Instead of fully embracing the campiness of its premise, the screenplay and Peters’ direction feel as though they’re channeling a dour Michael Mann crime thriller, rather than leaning into a candy-colored, visually pleasing aesthetic with a killer synth score to match.
Skincare also struggles with pacing. Despite its 97-minute runtime, the film often feels like it’s dragging on for 180 minutes. Compounding the pacing issues is the predictability, which doesn’t do the film any favors. Predictability can be forgiven if executed well, but Skincare offers no twists or turns, and its ultimate reveal falls flat, adhering to tired genre tropes.
On the performance front, there’s no denying Elizabeth Banks brings her A-game. While her comedic talents aren’t fully explored as one might hope, Banks still delivers a commanding and engaging performance. On the supporting side, it’s always great to see Lewis Pullman on screen, but his character is saddled with generic stereotypes—the happy wanderer trope—that don’t give him much to work with. Ultimately, Pullman’s talents are wasted.
Sure, the final act takes an interesting turn with its homage to Sunset Boulevard, but by the time that moment arrives, it’s too little, too late. Skincare has already settled into a level of disappointment that’s hard to overcome.
The most frustrating aspect of Skincare is its wasted potential. On paper, this premise should have been a home run for Austin Peters. Unfortunately, the film’s mundane pacing and aforementioned identity crisis leave you longing for dark comedy satires done better.
