If the splendid cinematic tradition of LA-based movies has taught us anything in the past century, it is that everyone hopes for something grand in the perennially sunny City of Dreams. Hope is no different, after years of building a reliable stable of beauty and wellness clientele in her image-obsessed city of bare-midriffed hikers and aspiring screen sirens. But on the verge of her big launch, she is short on cash (though still inexplicably generous with those full-sized product samples she dishes out to everyone in her orbit), in trouble with her landlord, and increasingly intimidated by that brand-new beauty parlor that opens up right across the street from her shop. Its owner, Angel Vergara (a spirited Gerardo Méndez), seems nice enough at first. But how dare he steal her clients and parking spots and claim something even more miraculous with his products: not just to battle but to reverse the signs of aging on one’s skin.
Steadily, writer-director Peters (along with his co-writers Sam Freilich and Deering Regan) dial up the film’s sunny noir intentions. Once Hope receives a random text message one day (of a video filmed by someone spying on her), you might wonder if something akin to Michael Haneke’s “Cache”—a paranoid thriller with a quiet register—is in the cards. Then, Peters reveals he has something else in mind. This lighter psychological Los Angeles caper proves its maker has seen and genuinely internalized some of the greats of cinema with a proud La La Land backdrop where the city plays itself, from “Sunset Boulevard” to “Mulholland Drive.”
To be clear, the contemporary pleasures of “Skincare” don’t claim to be on par with these all-timers. But Peters is nonetheless here to show everyone a good time at the movies, whether you’re a fellow lover (and experienced cynic) of the vast and sparkling movie town he knows like the back of his hand or someone who just grasps that crime stories that track inexperienced criminals with no good options (think, “Fargo”) will always yield to something wild and compelling. It’s truly impressive how Peters braids together all the components that make LA great, unique, and sometimes despicable enough to shatter one’s dreams. For every wide-open vista, there is a claustrophobic corner in “Skincare.” For every aggressively sunny day, there is a dark and dingy room with a window placed so high on a wall that it reinforces a sunken feel. And for every wealthy enclave with smooth surfaces, there are those left alone to brave their own wrinkles.