Filmmakers directing their wives is nothing new, but it can be a minefield: For every Paul W.S. Anderson, who spends his career creating charming homages to Milla Jovovich’s statuesque beauty and ass-kicking star presence, you get a Ben Falcone, who can’t seem to capture the blistering comic appeal of his wife, Melissa McCarthy, in any of his efforts for her. Then there’s “Borderline,” the pitch-black horror comedy from first-time director Jimmy Warden, the writer of “Cocaine Bear” and the second “Babysitter” movie, a poisoned love letter to his wife and star, Samara Weaving. But much like those prior scripts, what promises to be a droll mixture of off-kilter laughs and bloody mayhem turns into a confounding tonal mess.
The premise is a kind of grab bag of home invasion thriller, celebrity stalker horror flick, and “Ready or Not”-style slasher comedy: In the opening minutes, we’re introduced to Paul Duerson (Ray Nicholson, still practicing the Cheshire-cat grin and twitchy unpredictability of his dad Jack), a certified psycho who’s landed on pop star-turned-actress Sofia (Weaving) as the object of his obsession despite them never having met. After a quick-and-dirty prologue in which he shivs Sofia’s hulking, protective bodyguard, Bell (Eric Dane), and dances around, “Risky Business”-style, in her home, we cut to six months later; Sofia’s dating an NBA player (“The Last Black Man in San Francisco” star Jimmie Fails, tragically wasted here), the latest in a string of vapid celebrity relationships, and Bell is still getting back on his feet on the job.
But one fateful night, Paul busts out of the mental institution with a few sycophants he’s picked up in the funny farm, and is on his way to finish their nuptials, whether she likes it or not.
Problem is, by the time “Borderline” finally cuts to the chase, with Paul and his mad crew of crazies (including a Harley Quinn-like moll named Penny, played by a delightfully daffy Yasmeen Kelders) invading Sofia’s home and putting their bonkers wedding ceremony together, Warden has shuffled us through a grab bag of subplots and tertiary characters that keep what should be the central dynamic: the push and pull between Nicholson’s demented, but devoted lunatic and Weaving’s resourceful starlet. A good half of the ninety-minute runtime is eaten up by prologue, between gags about jigsaw puzzles based on the Arnold Schwarzenegger-Danny DeVito comedy “Junior” (the film is set in “1990-Something”) and the nagging sense that Dane’s level-headed bodyguard is the film’s true protagonist. He’s the Dr. Loomis to Weaving’s Laurie Strode; while she’s just trying to survive, it’s up to him to actually solve the problem.
The scattershot tone occasionally brings up some genuine chuckles: Warden will take pit stops from the driving action to turn his camera to an LA cop practicing his musical audition on the street, choreography and all, or have Penny force Sofia to duet Celine Dion’s “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now,” complete with comical unmotivated spotlight. But the breathless pace, and all these jagged tonal asides, can leave you feeling more than a little disoriented, especially as they drag Warden further from the toxic romance that’s supposed to undergird “Borderline”‘s central story.
When we do settle in with our stalker and his prey, though, “Borderline” contains some beautiful moments of levity. Nicholson’s hammy turn doesn’t have the same kind of layering that, say, Jack could bring to it, but there’s a shambling, pathetic quality he brings to the ever-grinning Paul. He’s constantly dressed in a too-baggy tuxedo, dopey mustache bordering the rectangular grin that gives him that family resemblance (and which he deploys to delirious effect); he plays the role with nary a wink, even when his missing marbles makes him confuse numerous other characters—mostly men—for Sofia herself. He knows just how to make lovesick giddiness feel so very, very dangerous.
As for Weaving, she acquits herself gamely enough, especially when Sofia gets to play Final Girl in the back half. I just wish Warden had given his muse a bit more to play beyond the vapid starlet who doesn’t appreciate her life. A few places in the script tease at something more intriguing for Sofia to work through (Paul may be crazy, but at least he loves her?), but Warden undercuts with a joke too frequently to give these interesting ideas air. The whole thing feels as eager to please as Paul is, and just as unpredictably frenetic.
It may not be quite as entertaining as the last time Weaving ended up in a murderous melee after a wedding ceremony. But there’s a least a few bits and bobs to keep “Borderline” from borderline failing.
