In 1996, a violent man was convicted and sentenced to ten years for stalking and threatening the life of pop legend Madonna, with the man reportedly telling her bodyguard that he intended to slit her throat if she didn’t marry him. That man would later escape the mental hospital but was quickly apprehended again before […]
Meanwhile, her close-knit and cherished bodyguard Bell (Eric Dane) is gently turning away an obsessive fan, Paul Duerson (Smile 2‘s Ray Nicholson), for the umpteenth time from Sofia’s home, only to meet the sharp end of a knife for his troubles. Cut to months later, where a healed Bell and Sofia are ready to move forward and leave that troubling moment behind. That’s when Paul escapes his psychiatric facility with dangerous patient Penny (Warrior Nun‘s Alba Baptista) to invade Sofia’s home under the elaborate delusion that they’ll get married.
Photo courtesy of Magnet Releasing.
Borderline assumes that the Madonna connections will be obvious enough to viewers to bypass fleshing out any of its characters, especially Sofia. Samara Weaving’s energetic spark and natural charisma carry her through Sofia’s more self-absorbed tendencies, and Warden’s script offers enough clues that signal there’s a caring person behind the aloof diva persona, though fleeting. That’s helped greatly by her caring bodyguard, Bell, and his family, who get roped into Paul’s demented scheme. The film’s only fully realized character is Rhodes. Jimmie Fails infuses the star athlete with affecting vulnerability and intelligent pathos that steals any and all rooting interest right out from Sofia and Bell. In a film where everyone behaves irrationally, stuck high in the clouds in their self-centered bubbles, Rhodes- and Bell, to a lesser extent- offer a reprieve from the increasingly grating insanity.
Ray Nicholson’s Paul is a cheerful, bubbly romantic whose violence comes with calm yet unpredictable swiftness, a byproduct of his all-consuming delusions. That’s largely where the cracks form in Borderline‘s confused personality, as infectious as Nicholson’s portrayal can be. Warden seems uncertain whether Paul should be villainized for his mental illness, toggling between a confused romantic comedy lead and a violent home-invading antagonist, frequently underplaying and undercutting the latter. Instead, it’s up to Baptista to escalate the tension and body count to a cartoonish degree that culminates in a bizarre Celine Dion duet, followed by a prolonged, lethal brawl. Penny’s particular brand of nasty violence gets doled out with an aww shucks form of cliched and aimless psychosis that’s representative of Borderline as a whole.
Photo courtesy of Magnet Releasing.
Warden reimagines Madonna’s life in the ’90s and her harrowing brush with death as a whimsical comedy wholly untethered from logic or reality. It’s a version of Hollywood where the cops ride bicycles and rehearse for acting gigs instead of taking threats seriously. Where personal assistants proudly offer up puzzles of 1994’s Junior because the ’90s were hilarious, right? Like Paul, Borderline winds up confused about its identity, more of a scattershot of jokes and ideas that never congeal in any meaningful or entertaining way, despite a few jokes that do land in the climax. Its true story origins feel too heavy in subject matter and far more grounded than, say, a bear overdosing on cocaine, for Warden’s zany approach, further trivialized by disjointed storytelling. In its bid to present an alternate reality filled with empty-headed caricatures, it winds up directionless to the point where, like Madonna’s song, its grating silliness feels designed to make you lose your mind.
Borderline releases in theaters and on digital on March 14, 2025.
