Your skin. It’s your largest organ, and, assuming you are not an undead Egyptian doomed to haunt natural-history museums, at least some of it is exposed for all to see.

There’s a line between “trying to look your best” and “relentlessly obsessing over every pore,” and that’s where celebrated Hollywood aesthetician and, so she hopes, soon-to-be successful businesswoman Hope Goldman (Elizabeth Banks) plans to blend herself in Skincare (in theaters August 16). All seems to be going well for Hope, a cheery but perhaps slightly arrogant gal, until, one day, and for seemingly no reason, her entire world collapses.

Hope’s small studio at the Crossroads of the World outdoor mall in Hollywood has a steady stream of high-thread-count clients, but her pricey line of products (imported at great expense from Italy) is just about to launch, and she’s lost one of her key backers.

Adding to her unease is the appearance of an energetic man named Angel (Luis Gerardo Méndez) directly across the patio, who has opened a slick new store (with neon!) that also offers facials, peels, and steams. When she complains about this proximity to the landlord (John Billingsley), she is reminded that she is, indeed, behind in the rent, and in no position to complain. (Billingsley, best known as the Denoblian Dr. Phlox to Star Trek fans, puts a neat spin on the role; it’s rare to see a landlord, that most odious of creatures, played in a somewhat sympathetic light.)

Bad vibes explode into crisis when Hope finds her email hacked and her entire client list gets a crazed and vulgar message. It gets worse when she starts appearing on message boards as someone looking for rape-fantasy hookups. Then, someone keeps sending her dick pics and short videos of her shot through windows.

By her side through all this are her assistant (Michaela Jaé Rodriguez) and a new friend, Jordan (Lewis Pullman), a young life coach who seems to have nothing but good ideas for Hope. Also in the mix is an auto mechanic with the hots for Hope (Erik Palladino) and a creepy local talk-show host (Nathan Fillion). Indeed, Hope’s nightmare turns most surreal when she tunes in to his show to watch the pre-recorded segment announcing her product line and finds herself replaced by none other than Angel, who, of course, immediately starts pilfering her clients.

Banks is an abundantly talented comic actor. (Unless I’m going crazy, she's looking more and more like Kate McKinnon every time I see her.) As such, it would be easy for her to let ‘er rip and go for broad laughs. Skincare is, on its surface level, about vain people. Instead, she (an executive producer on this independent feature) and first-time director Austin Peters (who co-wrote the screenplay with Sam Freilich and Deering Regan, all promising newcomers) decide to play it basically straight and let the absurdity of the scenario do the work for them.

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By and large, it’s a good choice, even if the more histrionic version would have been a field day for GIF farmers. Some early sequences, in which we luxuriate in the world of luxury skincare, have an ethereal, Todd Haynes-ish quality to them.

Things do get considerably less interesting, however, when we lose Hope as our anchor and start hanging out with the true villain behind this all—a twist that’s not too hard to suss out, though there are contours to it. There’s a Coen Brothers quality to watching everyone get in way over their head, plus the movie does open with a Fargo-like warning that it is based on a true story. (It kinda is, but don’t Google it, as it’ll give away the ending.) That all said, this is Diet Coen Brothers, and while certainly watchable, it never quite reaches the peaks its opening scenes promise. Not even when things turn violent is it that outrageous, at least by movie standards.

Still, Banks’s decision not to play it goofy keeps the pace moving. This is a strong first effort for Peters, whose previous work is mostly music videos, and a strong showcase for Banks while her directing career (Cocaine Bear, Charlie's Angels) continues its ascendency.