If you sit me down and set me up with a cocktail, I can talk to you for hours about the mid-level, female-led thrillers that were all the rage from the mid-90s through the early 2000s.  Look around my expansive library of films, and you’ll see pretty much every privileged woman in peril flick eager to hop off the shelf for a watch.  Classics like Single White Female, The Hand That Rocks the Cradle, Sleeping with the Enemy, The Net, The Rich Man’s Wife, Final Analysis, ah!  The list goes on and on, and I will never say no to a night in watching a California homemaker be terrorized by a jilted lover/babysitter/barista/dog walker.

I live for the nostalgia these glossy, easy-replay movies bring and almost joyously embrace any potential new product to add to my collection. With its slick blend of suspense and Hollywood glamour, Skincare finds its place as a worthy descendent of the genre that was always understated in its ambitions but beloved for its appealing heroines.  Boasting the same glitzy veneer and razor-sharp edges as its older siblings, Skincare taps into that same vein, delivering a ripped-from-the-headlines true-life tale that’s as much about the game of appearances as it is about the thrill of the chase. 

Elizabeth Banks (Brightburn) is Hope Goldman, a celebrity aesthetician to the stars teetering on the brink of making it big by launching her line of products (“Made it Italy!” as she is quick to point out).  She has a loyal client list, a longtime assistant (Michaela Jaé Rodriguez, tick, tick…BOOM!), and has made connections with heavy hitters like newsman Brett Wright (Nathan Fillion, The Suicide Squad), who have helped her get an expertly manicured foot in the door.  With all that overhead, she’s running behind in her monthly rent for her office space, but she needs to hang tight until her next phase begins.

Her dreams of empire-building are threatened when rival facialist Angel Vergara (Luis Gerardo Méndez, Half Brothers) sets up shop across the courtyard.  With Angel offering stiff competition, Hope’s move to solidify her place in the upper ranks of the beauty world is put on hold.  When an increasingly bizarre series of sinister events suggests someone is trying to sabotage her meticulously crafted reputation, the stakes are raised, and the tension mounts.  Enlisting the help of Jordan (Lewis Pullman, Top Gun: Maverick), a handsome referral from one of her clients, Hope strikes out to find out who is attempting to sideline her career and why.

Honestly, Skincare had me at Banks, who brings her trademark biting charm to Hope.  The character is given a believable desperation as she watches her intentionally built world starts to crumble around her.  The performance could easily have tilted toward the manic and convoluted, but Banks is too smart of an actress to let it stray too far out of her grasp.  She keeps Hope walking a dangerous tightrope between vulnerability and ruthlessness, making viewers guess Hope’s true nature until the end.  Pullman is a rising star, providing solid support and crackling chemistry with Banks. 

I wish the smaller roles were given as much of a creative freeway as Banks and Pullman, though director Austin Peters has peppered the supporting cast with actors who can figure their way out of underwritten corners.  I’d have to rewatch the movie, but I’m not sure that Rodriguez gets to stand and/or move around much.  Most of her scenes regulate her behind a desk and rarely in the same shot with her costar – as if she filmed everything after Banks had left for the day.  I never get much from Fillion as an actor, but he oozes the right amount of smarm for the duplicitous news personality he’s portraying.  I wouldn’t spoil it and say whether Méndez is the villain of the piece, but he keeps you on your toes long enough to make it interesting.

First-time feature director Peters, known for his work with musicians like Orville Peck and Diplo, thankfully doesn’t bring a music video edge to Skincare.  Opting to lean into the early 2000s visuals of California’s most exclusive luxury establishments (often innocuous storefronts), the film has a winking energy that gels with its darkly comic sensibility.  The screenplay by Sam Freilich, Deering Regan, and Peters navigates familiar dark dramedy beats that take it to the fine fringes of thriller territory. However, it never fully commits to being genuinely suspenseful.  

Produced on a modest budget, Peters has taken some lessons from the quick turnaround of music video production to stretch his money out wisely.  Angelina Vitto’s costume design is spot on, evoking the period’s aesthetic without taking a detour into parody.  The score by Fatima Al Qadiri is sleek and atmospheric, subtly enhancing the film’s mood without overshadowing the action. Liz Toonkel’s production design creates spaces that feel both luxurious and claustrophobic—perfectly mirroring the film’s themes of beauty and deception.

Skincare is not exactly a game changer, offering a slick, if somewhat predictable, ride through the cutthroat world of beauty entrepreneurship and never quite achieving the playful cattiness or deeper darkness it occasionally hints at.  It is consistently entertaining, though, and that can’t be said for many films released this summer.  For fans of pulpy thrillers, and especially Banks, this stylishly made, slightly campy romp is a no-brainer.  It hits the right notes, and while the script may be playing a familiar tune, ultimately, it offers a harmless escape to a world of beauty, betrayal, and Botox.