Good morning, House of Madness witch doctors:
They say revenge is a dish best served cold, and I agree. Immediately kicking the shit out of your best friend after learning he's been playing 'stinky finger' with your girlfriend may seem like it's the most satisfying and natural retribution, but perhaps biding your time while playing the 'long game' by withholding the knowledge of her tarantula collection, whilst knowing just the thought of anything arachnid related will literally give him a bout of the terror shits. That clown that just stole your parking spot? Why get into a public confrontation, when you can just as easily wait for them to go inside to do their perusing in the time it takes you to build a fortress made of shopping carts surrounding their vehicle entirely? Even better if it's raining and you can build a moat. That neighbour that lets their dog shit freely in your yard pretending that the instant the turd hits the turf, it magically disintegrates into the dimension of fantasy feces? Why complain straight away, when you can collect their precious gifts in a thoughtful reliquary to be anonymously presented back to them later? Yes, revenge is best served ice fucking cold for maximum satisfaction.
Christine (Eva Green) is a children's fashion designer who spends her days pitching business proposals, attending photo shoots and fashion shows, and being a mom to her daughter Bobs (Billie Gadsdon) with the help of frequent traveling husband Felix (Mark Strong). While attending a photo shoot, Christine receives a disturbing phone call, and as she's by herself in the adjacent room, she sees a rabid dog in the corner, and he only seems to have eyes for her. Christine is frozen as the infected animal inches closer, and just when she expects it to pounce, the dog shakes as if it's just gotten out of the bath, covering her with ticks; one of which plunges head first into the back of her neck. Gross.
Fast forward eight months, and Christine is doing horribly; she often has episodes of 'the shakes' which almost completely incapacitate her, and she also has terrible aches and pains that come and go, all while dealing with a memory that's about as reliable as Cosmo Kramer. One day while Felix is away on business, Christine is interrupted by her doorbell, and upon answering is greeted by a Filipino woman named Diana (Chai Fonacier) who insists she was hired by Christine herself to help along with the daily routines. Not only has this new employee taken Christine aback with her newfound job title, but Diana also has all of her belongings in a suitcase, ready to be shown which room she will be staying in. After complaining that she hasn't prepared a room as of yet, Christine manages to choose one in their humble abode containing 56,000 bedrooms. As Diana is settling in, Felix returns home and is completely blindsided by Diana's presence as this is the first he's heard of it, and is none too happy with his wife's decision making skills even though she doesn't remember making them.
Diana not only impresses the family with the deliciousness of her native cuisine, but she is also a godsend in the department of holistic medicine, helping with all sorts of Christine's maladies. After each healing procedure, Diana informs Christine "They're not forever though", which Christine semi-acknowledges, but is too busy enjoying her newfound medical miracles to consider there might just be a price to pay, even though Diana refuses monetary compensation for her extra duties as a healer. This is when the film starts to turn on its head, and delves back into Christine's past to help us understand her present. Are Christine's medical circumstances entirely legitimate, or is there a nocebo in effect as the title states, and if so, why or who would anyone want to get even with Christine, when she doesn't have the recollection or the physical evidence to explain her menacing predicament?
"Nocebo" doesn't excel in any one aspect, but it does do everything quite well as it delivers its message through telling multiple stories at once, while never leaving us confused or frustrated in its character shifting narrative. What begins and mostly upholds as sympathy, quickly turns to disgust and contempt, and the reversal of protagonist alliance feels natural as you grieve with the film's true victim. Now that's revenge served cold. Ice fucking cold.
Madness Meter: 6.3/10
NB
