The rapid rise of AI has focused much attention on the practice of creating "deepfake" nudes by digitally adding someone's (predominantly a woman's) face to the body of a porn star or nude model. One of the first cases to bring the threat of deepfakes to light came in 2014 when celebrity skincare specialist Dawn DaLuise was accused of plotting to kill professional rival Gabriel Suarez, who had opened a skincare clinic in the same commercial block as her own. DaLuise claimed that Suarez had attempted to destroy her life and business by flooding the internet with fake images of her face grafted onto pornographic pictures. DaLuise asked a former NFL player to murder Suarez, but was acquitted after spending 10 months in jail when no evidence was uncovered of anyone actually putting her plot in motion.
Austin Peters' directorial debut Skincare opens with text describing it as a "fictional story based on true events." It never actually references the DaLuise case, and even its lead actress Elizabeth Banks claims she was unware of its influence, but it's very much based on that case nonetheless. So much so that you should avoid reading the full details of the case before watching Skincare, as it will spoil some of the film's twists.
Banks plays Hope Goldman, who has spent two decades building up her reputation as one of Hollywood's most sought after skincare specialists. Despite this, she's struggling financially, with her clinic under threat due to unpaid rent. Hope has bet everything on her business being saved by the imminent launch of her new line of skincare products. She tapes a segment on a morning TV chat show which is set to air in a few days' time, giving the launch a much needed media boost.
Hope's world begins to collapse when the vacant property across from her clinic becomes home to "Shimmer by Angel," a similar clinic run by rising skincare star Angel Vergara (Luis Gerardo Méndez). When Hope's email is hacked, sending explicit messages to her entire contacts list, she immediately suspects it's the work of Angel, believing him desperate to ruin her business. The fake messages are simply the beginning however, as deepfake nudes of Hope begin to appear online, and her morning show segment is dropped and replaced with an interview with... yep, Angel. Determined to expose Angel and met with general disinterest from the police, Hope enlists the aid of Jordan (Lewis Pullman), a self-described "life coach" who claims he can solve anyone's problems.
Skincare is something of a cousin of films like To Die For and I, Tonya, in which attractive blonde women take sinister action to get ahead in their professions. The difference here is that Hope is far from ruthless in her ambitions. If anything she's rather passive in how she promotes herself, relying on her natural charm and likeable nature rather than any under-handed tactics. But there's something about Angel that sets her down a dark path. Akin to how some women will take an immediate and irrational dislike to a new co-worker, Hope convinces herself that Angel is the enemy, despite no evidence to support this theory. She finds herself amid an increasingly violent escalation simply by the company she keeps, falling under the influence of the sinister Jordan and a smitten mechanic (Erik Palladino) who would do "anything" for her. The ruthless Jordan is almost a physical manifestation of the dark side she has long kept suppressed.
Banks has a range that allows her to excel in comedic and dramatic roles, to play loveable heroines and bitchy villains with equal conviction. It's a talent that makes her ideal casting in the role of Hope, who is outwardly a ditzy blonde caricature but knows how to manipulate people, especially men, when she needs to. The role never fully plays to her strengths though, and despite its blackly comic undercurrent there's scant opportunity for Banks to unleash her unique human Miss Piggy persona. Despite her life crumbling around her, Hope never quite seems as angry as she should be given the circumstances. As both the film's victim and villain, we can never quite empathise with Hope as much as the narrative requires us to, and so Skincare becomes something of a passive experience as we resign ourselves to sitting back and seeing where it goes next.
Peters and cinematographer Christopher Ripley do a fine job of painting Los Angeles as a glossy wonderland with a dark undercurrent, all shimmering surfaces casting unflattering reflections. A city of excess, LA has always felt stuck in the 1980s, and Skincare looks as though it's set in the same world and era as something like Paul Schrader's American Gigolo. The more blackly comic crime fiction of writers like Carl Hiaasen and Elmore Leonard appears to be an influence too, especially in the roster of quirky but dangerous supporting characters, all of whom are desperate to fulfil ambitions of their own. But evoking prior works of American fiction isn't enough to make Skincare stand on its own, and we're left to settle for surface thrills as the film never quite explores its characters or themes with enough depth to make it anything more than a mildly entertaining time-passer. Ironically, Skincare is as superficial as the service its anti-heroine provides her image-obsessed clients.
Directed by: Austin Peters
Starring: Elizabeth Banks, Lewis Pullman, Luis Gerardo Méndez, Michaela Jaé (MJ) Rodriguez, Nathan Fillion
