Borderline Review
For all the sensationalism of the title and the anarchic set-pieces, I wasn’t a fan of Cocaine Bear, Jimmy Warden’s previous script. There was something deeply unpalatable about the mix of flippant, mean-spirited humour and paper-thin characterisation that personified the film. Warden’s directorial debut, Borderline, is a small but marked improvement, a flamboyant, self-consciously wacky mixture of Misery and Funny Games that packs in the irreverent humour, even as the plot gets more and more muddled.
At the centre of Borderline is a particularly unhinged performance from Ray Nicholson (son of Jack) as Paul Duerson, a delusional superfan of singer-turned-actress Sofia (Samara Weaving) who is convinced that the two are engaged to be married. After assaulting her bodyguard, Bell (Eric Dane) in a creepy opening scene, Duerson is imprisoned in a psychiatric facility, only to break out six months later with two accomplices – intent on picking up where he left off.
The film’s first half is excellent, setting up the premise and characters in a concise, stylish way. The script is witty and unpredictable, and interesting in the way the characters are often more than they appear – it feels like Warden isn’t interested in superficial stock characters. He also makes striking use of vivid lighting, an eclectic soundtrack and non-linear editing, punctuating his quieter moments with abrupt cuts that act as short, sharp shocks for the audience.
The performances are pretty strong across the board. Nicholson is full of mad energy as the Annie Wilkes stand-in; his manic Cheshire Cat smile, inherited from his father, is wonderfully manic, and he constantly seems like he is on the verge of either floods of tears or a full psychotic break. Samara Weaving is also great in a less showy way as the object of his affections – her reactions to being once more plunged into the nightmare she lived through already is one of the few believable moments in the film, and it’s genuinely chilling – the touch with the jigsaw piece is a creepy little flourish too.
Weaving isn’t particularly convincing as a popstar, though – curiously, we only ever hear her sing in one impromptu scene, and never really get an idea of her as a celebrity. She’s also, crucially, never really that sympathetic – it emerges early on that her management has pushed for her to get in a relationship with new boyfriend Rhodes (an under-utilised Jimmy Fails,) something he rightly calls out as being messed up. Most impressive of all is Alba Baptista as Duerson’s gleefully psychotic accomplice, Penny. She’s unpredictable, volatile and scary in a way that feels much more discomfiting than Nicholson’s over-the-top performance.
Baptista is responsible for a handful of the film’s most memorable moments – in particular the impromptu duet of It’s All Coming Back To Me, a sequence that is at once funny, surreal and deliriously violent. Less successful is Eric Dane, who plays the bodyguard with a bland disinterest, which would be ok, but he winds up as almost the lead role for a time, and he’s just not interesting enough. This points to an issue with the script, though, which is that it’s never entirely clear just who the protagonist is.
Unfortunately, it all falls apart as the pieces start to come together. Borderline doesn’t so much build to its final confrontation as just shuffle aimlessly towards it. From the halfway point to the end, the pacing is frustratingly static, with little to no sense of progression or building of tension, meaning the finale can’t help but feel anticlimactic.
Tonally, it’s all over the shop, and the approach to Duerson’s mania is muddled and confused. The issue is not so much Nicholson, who gives a decent portrayal of insanity; the problem is the lack of any kind of explanation for his actions aside from a brief reference to past trauma. There’s not a hint of the real person beneath the psychosis. Warden seems to want to have his cake and eat it, showing sensitivity to those suffering from mental disorders, but also plainly wanting to direct a schlocky horror film. As such, it winds up trivialising the mental health concerns it portrays. The film can’t decide if it wants us to understand Duerson or be scared of him, and rather than play with the dichotomy of that, or do anything interesting, it feels like a superficial half step in two directions at once.
Borderline is a definite step up from Cocaine Bear, but it still suffers from some of the same issues – it’s self-indulgent, and the many irreverent diversions, fun at first, become tiresome as the film goes on. It’s not funny enough to be a comedy, and not scary enough to be a straight horror. Warden leans into comedy when it’s clear that the dramatic beats are what work best – the moments of genuine tension and suspense are well directed but constantly undermined by a punchline. Weaving, Nicholson and Baptista give great performances, but you get the sense that anything memorable they brought to the characters themselves, rather than anything that is in the script. A confused film with flashes of brilliance, Borderline is a film of two halves – one of which is vibrant and exciting, the other plodding and too messy to fully resonate.
On digital download from September 8th / Ray Nicholson, Samara Weaving, Eric Dane, Alba Baptista, Jimmie Fails / Dir: Jimmy Warden / Strike Media / 15
Discover more from
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
About the Author
