'Fingernails' Movie Review

Fingernails: Exploring Love, Compatibility, and Existential Dread

Love is pain in several ways in “Fingernails.” In the near future of Christos Nikou’s dystopian sci-fi film, they’ve gotten compatibility down to a science. To measure your affection, you and your partner can each have a fingernail pulled, which will then be put into a machine, testing whether either, neither, or both of you are truly in love. While Nikou never gives us the exact science behind this testing or why a scientist couldn’t think of a less invasive or agonizing way of measuring whether this is just a fling, the existential panic felt by the inhabitants of this world is enough to pull you along.

Fingernails — Official Trailer

Anna, portrayed by Jessie Buckley, ardently believes in the concept of true love. As an unemployed schoolteacher, she embarks on a new career as an instructor at the Love Institute, an establishment established by the enigmatic yet tormented Dunan, played by Luke Wilson, just less than a year ago. The institute’s unconventional methods involve shock therapy and underwater exercises to prepare individuals for the ultimate test of love. Anna, an idealist, eagerly joins forces with the institute’s most accomplished instructor, the reserved and melancholic Amir, portrayed by Riz Ahmed, to guide and counsel couples undergoing the institute’s unique training.

While working closely together, a subtle but profound connection blossoms between Anna and Amir. Each exchanged glance between them deepens Anna’s doubts about her marriage to Ryan, played by Jeremy Allen White. This sudden and perplexing development is confounding, as Anna and Ryan successfully underwent the fingernail test three years ago, affirming their perfect compatibility. Yet, Anna finds herself increasingly drawn to Amir, leading her to question the foundation of her relationship with Ryan.

Nikou’s subsequent work to ‘Apples,’ a film that also delves into the abrupt dissolution of personal truths, aligns harmoniously with the cinematic style of Greek director Yorgos Lanthimos in ‘The Lobster.’ Both directors employ a shared language of dry humor and constrained displays of emotion to scrutinize the lengths people are willing to go for the sake of love. However, in ‘Fingernails,’ Nikou subverts the conventional idea of monogamy and enduring relationships. The prevailing anxiety in this narrative emerges from the apprehension of investing time in a partnership that may not thrive, simply because it conforms to the societal expectations and commitments associated with marriage.

It’s a captivating blend of emotions that leaves you yearning for Nikou to explore even further. Among the dozen or so couples who pass through the institute, there’s a noticeable dearth of diversity, particularly with just one same-sex couple represented, presenting a somewhat limited, heteronormative perspective on relationships. Nikou also pays scant attention to socioeconomic disparities. It’s hinted through conversations that the test comes at a considerable cost. This raises questions about whether a significant portion of the population is excluded due to the financial barrier. Furthermore, it prompts curiosity about whether prominent figures, including political leaders, subject themselves to the fingernail test.

While Nikou’s initial focus on Anna and Amir creates an intimate connection with the audience, it tends to become somewhat narrow in scope as the story unfolds, leaving us yearning for a more comprehensive exploration of the broader societal implications.

Fortunately, in this deliberately paced film, Riz Ahmed and Jessie Buckley shine. Their dynamic brings out the best in each other, allowing Buckley to reveal a vulnerability seldom glimpsed in her typically more flamboyant roles. Adding to their allure is the masterful touch of cinematographer Marcell Rév, who has a profound affection for Ahmed and Buckley’s visages. He accentuates Ahmed’s chiseled features and the captivating interplay between Buckley’s enigmatic smile and her neckline, bathing both actors in a warm, radiant palette of maroons, blues, and violets. It’s a refreshing departure from the tendency of many filmmakers to overlook the art of capturing attractive individuals in an appealing light, a shortcoming that can detract from a film’s intended romance. In ‘Fingernails,’ every drawn-out moment that keeps these two charismatic figures apart is keenly felt.

Indeed, while watching Nikou’s film, my thoughts invariably drifted toward Celine Song’s equally intricate narrative of star-crossed lovers in “Past Lives.” Both films share a profound fascination with the intersection of fate and love, focusing on the delicate equilibrium within a love triangle where no true villain exists. In “Past Lives,” some of my colleagues voiced reservations about how Song’s story avoids the dramatic complications that might have arisen if the two protagonists had physically consummated their attraction. I find it challenging to entirely align with this criticism, primarily because in real life, the narrative often concludes once that moment occurs—unless one wishes to plunge into full-blown melodrama, a tonal opposite of “Past Lives.” “Fingernails” grapples with a similar crossroads involving its central characters, and the choice made by Nikou’s film is equally insightful in its recognition of the complexities a relationship can endure.

In this regard, “Fingernails” could readily be labeled as anti-climactic. The anticipated body horror of fingernail extraction is depicted in a surprisingly subtle and tasteful manner, leaving the audience perturbed by what remains unseen rather than the explicit visuals. The understated depth of emotion conveyed by Buckley, Ahmed, and White enriches the film, creating a cinematic experience characterized by a deliberate pace that lingers in the mind, delving into the intricacies of love, desire, and yearning, with haunting resonance rather than sensational shocks.

This review was submitted during the 2023 Chicago International Film Festival. “Fingernails” is scheduled to premiere in limited release and on Apple TV+ on November 3rd.