On the list of worst movie ex-girlfriends Nina, the undead spirit which haunts young lovers Holly and Rob in directing brothers Ben and Chris Blaine’s feature debut Nina Forever, would rank pretty close to the top. A blood-covered wrath, Nina is the catch-all symbol of the unresolved grief, sexual frustration and PTSD with which the characters in this off-kilter horror romance struggle to live. On paper, the premise for Nina Forever sounds like it might be a comedy: A man’s late ex-girlfriend appears anytime he tries to have sex with his new girlfriend. However in practice the story is far from funny, opting more for a dark and demure approach to the subject matter which alternatively fascinates and frustrates.
The film stars Abigail Hardingham as Holly, a Wednesday Adams type who works as a teller at a big box grocery store and takes paramedics courses in the evening. Holly is teased by her co-workers because she is fascinated by the brooding shop boy Rob (Cian Barry). Rob is struggling to cope after the death of his long time girlfriend Nina in a motorcycle crash. A quiet loner, Rob’s only friends are Nina’s grieving parents, and this relationship seems to be extending everyone’s sorrow rather than healing it. In addition, Rob has abandoned a PHD in Mathematics in favour of mindlessly stocking shelves at the grocery store where Holly works.
After messily sharing a pomegranate one afternoon, Rob and Holly begin to see each other. It isn’t long before – thanks to some slightly sadistic seduction work by Holly – they’re back at Rob’s place hopping into the sack. That’s when things take a turn. Nina oozes up through the mattress beside them, covered in blood and none-too-pleased that her former boyfriend is easing his aching heart with the help of a younger woman. Cracked and contorted by her fatal car crash, she spits sardonic venom at Holly while reminding Rob that just because she’s dead doesn’t mean they’re on a break.
After the initial shock, the pair attempt counter-measures, changing the bed sheets and trying their coupling in other locations, but wherever they go, Nina appears. Despite the spectre of Nina haunting their bedroom however, the relationship grows more serious. Holly, to her credit, even attempts to include Nina in the bedroom, much to Nina’s chagrin. As the relationship deepens and – as often happens – grows a little stale, the question of who exactly Nina is haunting and why becomes murkier, especially as Rob begins to move on from his grief.
Nina Forever is a bit of a head scratcher, largely thanks to a constant battle of tones and the ambiguous logic of Nina’s appearances. In some ways she acts as a horror monster should, appearing at the scariest moments, and always covered in blood and gore. However whenever she does, the reaction of the characters is never of fear, but rather boredom. And really, she does get boring. As much as the image of O’Shaughnessy naked and blood-soaked slithering across a bed is unsettling at first, after the third or fourth time it becomes kind of routine. The same goes for Rob’s interactions with Nina’s parents. Grief stricken and unable to talk to each other, they cling to Rob with an intensity that borders on creepy. But after the second or third dinner, you just end up saying to yourself “these people need help.”
Clearly produced on a lean budget, the film is set in the gloomy grey English suburbs which, while not visually interesting, helps maintain a certain unsettling mood throughout. Slowly paced, the film sometimes feels like it’s stretching to get to feature length, especially once the shock of Nina’s appearances has worn off. The only brightness and energy comes from the surprisingly upbeat soundtrack, which is often at odds with the events taking place on screen. Neverthless, the great work put in by the actors, especially Hardingham and O’Shaughnessy, keep most scenes at least moderately interesting.
The almost dead serious tone in the face of the absurdity of the film’s premise makes me wonder whether we need Nina at all. This film almost feels like a Dardennes drama with a blood-soaked chunk of symbolism thrown in for flare. I found myself breathing a sigh of relief when Nina Forever came to a close. And while that’s never a good sign, I can’t deny that the film lingered in my thoughts long after I watched it. What the heck was this thing all about? Partly a discourse on the importance of sharing your grief, partly a look at power dynamics in relationships, partly a “different strokes for different folks” sexual morality tale, it’s certainly not your typical horror movie fare, but it is something. Like the characters in the film, it leaves you searching for some closure that’s never going to come.
Reviewed by Evan Arppe.
