Under the Skin

Under the Skin, in all its sinister grace, is most extraordinary in that it is capable of evoking physical responses from its audience. My skin prickled at many a moment, I was short of breath at other points and my fingernails dug deep into skin as I clenched my fists involuntarily from the sheer suspense. The piece is a refreshing, revolutionary, entirely bizarre take on on the tired alien science fiction genre. It burns the trademark disturbing images deep into our minds, not by force but by art. Under the Skin transcends a twisted, cold beauty, stepping deeply into a subversive Stanley-Kubrick-style vision. What director Jonathan Glazer crafts expertly with a clear aesthetic precision in each and every scene, is the eerie atmosphere. At many points, together with otherworldly high-pitched sound effects, the solemn heavy drum beat and sharp, shocking visuals the film borders on pure horror. 

An alien, in the form of a mysterious, attractive young woman, (Scarlett Johanson) roams through Scotland in search of vulnerable, isolated men. She entices them away where they are met with an ominous, perplexing fate: their bodies are absorbed into a thick black liquid where eventually they are sucked away into a strange red light leaving only their skin behind. However, the alien begins to become increasingly self-aware of the humanity of her disguise and seeks to understand it. 

The true merit of Under the Skin lies in the grandiose observations it makes about our existence, about humanity. The film provokes much discussion into human interactions, seduction, trust and the contentious power of women over men and men over women. It explores the subtle dominance of women, from the command of sexual allure and captivation, and the subsequent appeal on men. All of this can be construed from the understated, eerie fashion in which each event is portrayed. Quiet, beautiful statements are made as our alien seductress experiences life as one of us. She's an observer, a hidden witness whom becomes increasingly engaged with the collective encounter of humanity. 

The flaws of Under the Skin are primarily stylistic ones. An intriguing, utterly bewildering introduction gives way to a slightly repetitive sequence when our female alien goes hunting - she's driving and driving, luring and luring, they're sinking and sinking. But the story finally takes hold of its audience when variations come to play - unexpected events provoking a response from Johansson's character. We encounter an eerie, troubling scene on an isolated beach, sympathy is felt by our alien creature and something of a rebellion ensues. 

The cinematography crafted by Daniel Landin may be considered a special treasure within the film. Landin works hard to fashion the easy and believable horizon we call society, from the eyes of a foreign being. The driving shots are effective, the seaside frames of wind blowing water off water stun and final views of rising smoke, ethereal yet wholly unnerving. First-time film composer Mica Levi's effort is magnificent - that tune, that melody, that sharp cord that really creeps deep Under the Skin, and tells more of the story than it really should. 

The disquieting splendour of the feature is centred on Scarlett Johansson. The emotional range of the character experiences continuous growth throughout the film - the cold creature evolves before our eyes: we see pity, bewilderment, fear, horror, insecurity and the odd spot of happiness. Each sentiment is effortlessly facilitated by Johansson whose transition between each is more than flawless - it is a marvel to watch.

The fluid, ambiguous and sinister spectacle Under the Skin establishes director Jonathon Grazer as a shrewd, enterprising type of filmmaker - constantly searching for ways to mesmerise his audience with the hypnotic concoction of movement and sound. To call him "visionary" would be ill-suffice; the man not only sees but is a master of conveying, of showing, of beguiling presentation.  

84/100