Review: Sick of Myself

In a world where 15 minutes of fame is not enough, what measures is one willing to take to get the attention they “deserve”? That’s a question director, Kristoffer Borgli explores in Sick of My Self, an Oslo based character study of a morally complicated person.

Signe, played brilliantly by Kristine Kujath Thorp, is driven by two things only, Attention and being the center of it. Pathetically comical at first, things quickly turn disastrous when in a desperate bid to overshadow her partner’s new found success as an artist, she begins taking a recalled sleeping medication for its reported side effect of inducing skin diseases.

More than just a black comedy, Sick of Myself leans into shocking elements of body horror, evoking strong feelings of disgust and a strange sense of anxiety as we watch Singe transform into an insidious pity seeker.

Facing the overload of stimulation we find ourselves with today it is easy to get lost amongst a distracted world. While Signe is a truly awful person who is hurting herself and anyone around her, we can’t help but see some of our own flaws driving her narcissistic missadventure.

Signe’s self centered lens which the film is told through allows for a lot of creative invention in its storytelling. Here Borgali dials up the absurdity presenting some shocking moments of gore only to pull the rug out underneath revealing them to be nightmares induced by the drug.

It is here where the film has the most fun, finding unique ways to torment Signe, as the film goes on some of these nightmares become true leading to an tense climax where her disfigurement inevitably becomes her undoing. 

Overall Sick of Myself is a disturbing allegory for unchecked narcissism in an individualist age. While not for the faint of heart, or stomach, it is one of the most original films in recent memory.

Sick of Myself is in cinemas now!

I urge you to catch this one with an audience.

  • Flynn