Paramedic student Holly (Abigail Hardingham) would like to be “dark”. She thinks she is, but as her boyfriend goodnaturedly dumps her the excuse he uses is that she is too “vanilla”, just too nice for him, and she is mortally offended. She makes up her mind to be more serious, to embrace the grimmer side of life, and to do so her eyes alight on a co-worker at the supermarket, Rob (Cian Barry), who has recently suffered a bereavement so tragic that he tried to commit suicide rather than live with the guilt. He was driving, there was a road accident, and his girlfriend Nina (Fiona O'Shaughnessy) was killed, and now he doesn’t want to be around anyone, simply working to dully exist. Perfect, thinks Holly…
Nina Forever was the debut cinema feature for directing brothers Ben Blaine and Chris Blaine, and had the ill fortune to be released at about the same time as Joe Dante’s considerably more lighthearted dead girlfriend comes back to life horror Burying the Ex; on the other hand, that wasn’t too well received, while the Blaines’ effort was judged to be rather more interesting, as instead of implementing comedy to tell their story, they went the dramatic route. That’s not to say there were no chuckles, for with this material the potential for black farce was not too far away, but they managed to keep their tone reserved and contemplative, as one would be when undergoing the grieving process.
Rob’s reaction to his crushing shame is an extreme one, yet oddly this didn’t feel like an extreme movie, even with the sexual scenes stained with blood. Why is that? As Holly discovers when she finally gets her man back to his place and into bed, Nina hasn’t been biding her time in the afterlife simply to have this usurper muscle in on her act, so makes a surprise appearance at the crucial moment and joins her bereaved ex and his new girlfriend between the sheets. The fact that her body still shows the effects of a recent car crash doesn’t seem to have crossed her mind, she’s actually very calm and measured about her reluctance to leave, and that makes her strange and creepy.
Well, even more strange and creepy, as if not getting the hint that death brings, telling her she really should be heading off to pastures new rather than hanging around whenever Rob has sex with Holly. The new girl is remarkably accommodating, though not after a stretch where both living members of this trio have to come to terms with what they’ve seen. Again, this was a pretty good approximation of grief in that should you be enduring it, a major event in your life will have changed your perspective yet it’s not something that’s affecting everyone in the world, it’s very personal, so you feel out of sorts to say the least when there has been a seismic shift in your experience but you may find it difficult to share, as Rob does.
He is still in touch with Nina’s parents (David Troughton and Elizabeth Elvin) who are mutually helping each other through this difficult time, though may not be as helpful as they would hope, but taking into account that he is still regularly witnessing her resurrection at what is an intimate moment he is understandably troubled further. However, he wasn’t the main character: Holly was, and her wish to be gloomy and interesting rather than sunny and uncomplicated backfires hugely when she realises it isn’t Rob’s emotions that have brought Nina back, but her own naïve sense of what being complex involves. It had to be said the Blaines aimed for a tone veering between the grim and the erotic, and didn’t wholly succeed at the latter when the former was so emphasised (unless the sight of fake blood turns you on), but as a warning to those who envy the mentally stressed and tumultuous in this world, it was both pointed and unexpectedly intelligent for what could have been absurd and jokey.
[Studio Canal's DVD has a short featurette, deleted scenes with commentary from the directors and a few extraneous bits and bobs as extras.]
