The Big Picture
- Sick of Myself is a dark comedy that satirizes the human desire for attention and sympathy, focusing on a narcissistic couple engaged in a competition to outdo each other.
- The film serves as a biting examination of narcissistic tendencies and the desperate need for attention in the digital age, with a particular focus on the influence of social media.
- Sick of Myself has received praise from filmmakers Ari Aster and John Waters, who commend its bold and judgmental approach, captivating performances, and well-crafted dark comedy. The film is worth watching before diving into Borgli’s upcoming Dream Scenario.
Of the many, many weird things that the upcoming Dream Scenario promises, the inclusion of a Nicolas Cage in everyone’s is one of the most excitingly strange. Fans of writer/director Kristoffer Borgli‘s previous work, though, know they’re in for so much more. Crafting a pretty impressive string of short films that combine wry social commentary with some of that delicious weirdness that the often-exuberant Nic Cage is likely to feel at home in, Borgli has been steadily making a name for himself as a singular voice that absolutely demands to be heard. Before diving into his A24-produced Dream Scenario, though, viewers should get a taste of his style with his first feature, the Norwegian film Sick of Myself.
A black comedy that wears its satirical overtones on its sleeve, Sick of Myself turns its gaze towards the human desire for sympathy and attention. It follows a couple (Kristine Kujath Thorp & Eirik Sæther) with some serious cases of MCS—that is, Main Character Syndrome. In a devious competition to claim the social spotlight, Signe (Thorp) and Thomas (Sæther) become obsessed with finding ways of catching the attention of others, eventually through extreme methods. With the very exciting Dream Scenario on its way for an acclaimed release, there’s no better time than now to check out Borgli’s darkly comic debut feature.
What Is ‘Sick of Myself’ About?
As previously mentioned, Sick of Myself centers around a narcissistic couple who are locked in a continuous game to outdo each other to garner attention from outsiders, whether it be admiration, sympathy, or curiosity. We first meet them over an extravagant meal at a restaurant somewhere in Norway. They’re sharing a $2,000 bottle of wine like it’s nothing, and we quickly realize they can’t afford it when Thomas tells Signe to take a call outside, then snatches the bottle off the table and runs out into the street without paying the bill. It’s merely the start of a risky theft habit that he builds up, and when he brags about the ingenious heist later to a group of friends, Signe looks on the praise laid upon her boyfriend with poisonous jealousy. She must find a way to outdo this stunt, to bask in that type of captivated attention that it conjured out from their social group.
From here, things only continue to escalate. The pair becomes obsessed with upping each other. If there’s a way to get somebody, anybody, to pay attention to them, they’ll find it, and before long their behavior becomes dangerous. Signe sees the utter panic of passersby when a woman gets viciously attacked by a dog, so she tries to instigate a comparable attack. She sticks her face near a leashed-up German Shepherd, barking at it in an attempt to provoke it. When the owner returns and berates Signe, the young woman retreats in embarrassment. Thomas, meanwhile, becomes involved in creating an art exhibit based entirely around stolen furniture. It’s a huge hit, and he becomes a minor celebrity. Signe’s not having it. Desperate and un-mauled, she becomes intrigued by a controversial recalled Russian drug that’s made its way on the news for causing intense skin deformations in those that take it.
‘Sick of Myself’ Is a Dark Comedic Take on Influencer Culture
Fans of Greek cinema might be recalled to Babis Makridis‘s bone-dry Pity, a film that finds a man addicted to the sympathy of others, though Sick of Myself sets its sights much wider than its Greek counterpart. At its best, Sick of Myself isn’t just a character study of a truly deranged protagonist but also a vicious examination of narcissistic tendencies. It all makes for one of the great social satires of the digital age. On an allegorical level, the film skewers the concept of the desperate need for attention bred by the omnipresence of social media. Though the lengths Signe and Thomas go to are undoubtedly extreme (it is a comedy, after all), much of the movie’s darkness comes from the reality it represents. Borgli has discussed how the origins of the characters can be found in regular strangers he bumped into during his time in Los Angeles, telling Filmmaker Magazine, “the personal traits of her being hugely ambitious, opportunistic and maybe even a little bit of a narcissist were things I bumped into more frequently [in LA] than I did in Norway”.
Thorp plays the role with a complete commitment to the joke. Her character—a caricature of selfie-obsessed quasi-influencers, taken to a self-destructive extreme—is made simultaneously absurd and tragic by Thorp’s magnetic presence. As a great performer, she knows that the joke has to be on her character, but not so much that she becomes excruciating. No, Thorp rather lends a vulnerability to the character that makes her quest for attention as pitiful as it is comic. Sæther, meanwhile, plays his role with an arrogant unapproachability that pairs perfectly poorly with Signe. The success that he finds feel as natural as his own skin, and he carries around a sort of pseudo-intellectualism that comes undone should anyone tug firmly enough at its threads.
It also helps that the film is shot beautifully on 35mm with the sort of tasteful arthouse cinematography prime for screenshotting. Borgli, along with cinematographer Benjamin Loeb, presents a knack for creating impactful images that serve as more than just postcard-like stills. Tight close-ups on Signe’s furrowed brows not only nearly perfectly express the character’s fluctuating sense of dismay, but also works to paint a transitioning landscape of a face slowly overtaken by a dangerous skin disease. On a technical level, Sick of Myself is an adeptly crafted dark comedy with commited, captivating performances, slick cinematography, and confident direction.
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Ari Aster and John Waters Are Among ‘Sick of Myself’s Biggest Fans
If you aren’t sold on Sick of Myself, how about a solid endorsement from Ari Aster and John Waters, among others? Waters included the movie on his list of Top 10 from 2022, calling it “just as nuts” as Female Trouble, which, you’ll know if you’re familiar with Waters’s filmography, is really goddamn saying something. It’s not hard to see the parallels between Borgli’s picture and Waters’s best work. Both center around delusional, often narcissistic characters who treat those around them abysmally for no reason other than the fact that it makes them feel good. Sure, Sick of Myself never reaches the unfathomable height of shock value that the Prince of Filth’s admirable Pink Flamingos, but it lands safely among some of Waters’s more refined work.
Aster, meanwhile, who is no stranger to writing bizarre if disturbing character dynamics, called the film “the work of a demonic parodist with chutzpah and judgment to spare”, according to the movie’s official website. He’s right. Throughout the picture, Borgli unravels the shimmering veneer of the technological era and shows the grimacing self-obsession that lays underneath. It’s an unsubtle work, for sure, and it comes undeniably from a point of judgment, but never does Sick of Myself feel unreasonably preachy. It’s all too well done, too believably acted (Kristine Kujath Thorp is electrifying and impossible to look away from) to feel like a condescending moral tale. Borgli is always committed to the joke, recalling the absurdist bits in 2022’s uproarious Triangle of Sadness.
Michael Cera, who has a crucial role in Borgli’s Dream Scenario, praised the film and said that the movie made him “reflective and standoffish for a short while”. It does that. Even at Signe’s most dramatic lengths to get attention, there’s some truth hidden within her provocative behavior. Borgli said that he often heard American audiences relating to Signe, overhearing viewers stating “she’s so me”. While the later half of the film indulges in some extreme behaviors, the characterization is fleshed out in such a way that it rarely if ever feels unbelievable. Instead, it feels like a damning reflection of one’s own self-indulgences, a stark (and hilarious) reminder that the human ego is a hard thing to shed. Such praise from Aster and Waters, both accomplished filmmakers with singular visions of their own, is quite the selling point, and Sick of Myself is completely worthy.
Just as Borgli’s early shorts, namely the grotesque Eer, clearly prepared Borgli for Sick of Myself, his first feature made his filming of Dream Scenario more attainable. Borgli said that “making a somewhat smaller movie in Norway first made a lot of sense. The process does feel very similar.” Judging by its absolutely crazy trailer, Dream Scenario looks like a pretty sizable step up in terms of production and scale. The dream sequences look extravagant and richly realized, and Nicolas Cage’s performance appears to be the most delightful kind of batshit insane. Sick of Myself has some great prosthetic work that transforms Kristine Kujath Thorp into a nearly unrecognizable face, but for the most part, it’s pretty laid back.
Before you dive into the magnificent weirdness of Dream Scenario, check out Sick of Myself. It’s a lean and wicked little satire that recalls some of the best dark comedies out there. It’s a magnificent work that serves as a mirror reflecting our own self-involved tendencies—and a wonderful premonition of what Borgli has in store for us.
Sick of Myself is available to stream on Paramount+ in the US.
Watch on Paramount+
