Borderline (2023)

Rating: C+

Dir: Rich Mallery
Star: Kate Lý Johnston, Kylee Michael, Irmon Hill, Quentin Boyer

I never want to see this film again. To be clear, that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. There are a few movies where I have to respect their intensity, which succeeds to such a degree, the experience simply isn’t one I want to repeat. The grand-daddy of all “that’s enough cinema for me” movies is Grave of the Fireflies, but the nearest parallel here would be Requiem for a Dream. This shares a similarly unflinching depiction of the downside of drug addiction, albeit not quite packing the same wallop. As an effective, “Just Say No” message though, this has to be considered successful, beyond the dreams of Nancy Reagan and Mr T.

Right from the start, we’re dropped into the personal hell of Charli (Johnston), as she alternately berates, cajoles, threatens and wheedles $300 out of her mother, in order to pay for drugs. This is depicted in a single unbroken shot of her screaming through a locked door for several minutes, and very effectively conveys the idea that Charli is Not A Nice Person. Much of what we see over the following hour and forty minutes confirms this. She works as a nurse, largely for the perk of pharmaceutical access, partly facilitated by her whoring herself out to a doctor with a foot fetish (Quentin Tarantino Boyer). Her boyfriend, Kyle (Hill), similarly seems to be kept around, largely for the pipeline he provides to a neighbourhood dealer, and she spurns his declarations of affection: “You know, I’m gonna hurt you.”

She’s not wrong, as Charli’s addiction spins increasingly out of control, and she’s forced to more extreme measures to feed the monster. Not helping matters is her BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder), though it’s a moot point whether her mental issues causes the drug dependency, or are in response to it. The only somewhat stabilizing influence in her life is room-mate Zee (Michael), who harbours ambitions of becoming an artist. Even she is arguably as much an enabler of Charlie’s self-destructive habits, and ends up dragged along on the resulting downward spiral. Like Requiem, there’s not a lot of light relief, or even hope. Things start off badly for the central character, and it’s almost entirely downhill from there.

It makes for uncomfortable, sometimes unpleasant viewing, and it’s kinda one-sided, in that the appeal of drugs is entirely obscured. Trainspotting, this is definitely not. There are times when it does teeter almost into self-parody, although Johnston’s strong central performance manages to pull it back. Yet her depiction of a manipulative and angry junkie may be too effective, in that I was left with only the vaguest feelings of sympathy. Charli made bad choices, continues to make them, and drives away just about everyone who cares about her as a result of these. By the time of the final, ominous knock on her apartment door, I’d probably had enough of her as well.

[At time of writing, the film is available exclusively on Tubi, but should now be on Cable and Digital VOD, including Prime Video.]