Borderline is the directorial debut of Cocaine Bear writer, and Samara Weaving’s husband, Jimmy Warden. Like that film, it has a really strange sense of humor but also suffers from tonal confusion and a script that could have used a few more revisions.
A comedy-thriller on paper, Borderline partially follows a mentally unstable fan who invades the home of a pop star, convinced they are destined to marry. And the reason I say “partially follows” is because the film is so unfocused that it’s difficult to pinpoint who the actual protagonist is. Multiple subplots and ideas fight for attention, making the film feel mostly aimless.
The performances are a mixed bag, with the script often undermining the actors’ efforts. Weaving is, as always, reliable, but her intentionally shallow character makes it hard for us to root for her. Ray Nicholson (son of Jack Nicholson) plays the delusional admirer, leaning so heavily on his father’s signature mannerisms that it results in an uncanny imitation, he’s so focused on the impression that the character lacks menace. He was far more effective in Smile 2 and Novocaine, where he was able to carve out his own creepy identity. Eric Dane and Jimmie Fails are fine in their respective roles, but the standout, and by far the film’s most memorable element, is Alba Baptista’s performance as Penny, a truly unhinged character full of surprises.
What makes Borderline weaker than Cocaine Bear isn’t just the less clever premise but also the direction. That film, for all its chaos, was helmed with confidence, while this one bears all the signs of a debut filmmaker. Interesting ideas, like questioning the perceived worth of a bodyguard’s life versus that of a celebrity, are lost in the shuffle. Scenes drag, and Warden has a habit of repeating jokes that were funny the first time but quickly wear out their welcome. Take, for instance, the film’s standout moment: a duet between Alba Baptista’s Penny and Weaving’s Sofia. The first time Sofia is caught off guard by Penny’s unexpectedly strong vocals, it’s a genuinely funny surprise. But when the joke is repeated a minute later, it feels like the film doesn’t trust the audience to “get it” the first time. Similarly, Warden lingers too long on unnecessary visual gags, like holding a shot on a bizarre statue of a boy urinating, dragging out a dance rehearsal sequence, and paralleling a physical confrontation involving Penny with Sofia kicking her boyfriend out. These flourishes aren’t dealbreakers on their own, but they serve little purpose and keep the film at a distance. A more disciplined approach, cutting down on repeated gags and streamlining the character focus, could have helped sharpen both the comedy and tension.
The bigger issue, however, is how Borderline treats Duerson’s instability as a gimmick. His actions are predictable, he’s never truly menacing, and the film doesn’t explore his obsession beyond surface-level madness. The only reason he’s able to accomplish anything is that people feel bad for him, which removes any real sense of threat. Since Sofia is vapid by design and Duerson is a one-note caricature, attempts to inject heart through side characters (like Eric Dane’s Bell or Jimmie Fails’ Rhodes) feel too underdeveloped and unfocused to make an impact.
Whatever fun Borderline could have had with its solid premise is undone by uneven execution. It fails to work as a thriller, comedy, or character study. In the end, it’s not just borderline, it’s bad.