Under the Skin

I’m at a loss when it comes to processing UNDER THE SKIN, so writing about it is even more daunting. I suppose I could admit that it had me firmly onboard from start to finish, but that’s probably not worth much to anyone but myself. But amidst all of the visual splendor, the sustained atmosphere of complexity, and the occasional dashes of humor there were two scenes that had me considering it possibly the best horror film since Zulawski’s POSSESSION. The first scene occurs after we’ve been acquainted with the basic formula, a TROUBLE EVERY DAY-esque bait-and-switch with a beautiful alien luring unsuspecting Scotsmen to a black void where she walks safely across as they hypnotically sink and are harvested for their meat. The first scene that shook me out of my hypnosis occurs at a beach where Johansson’s alien preps a surfer for the grinder, as the ocean seems to be warning everyone and everything of her presence. While she is talking with him he/we notice a drowning dog being dragged out to sea with a woman (the dog’s owner) swimming hopelessly to rescue him. Her act of love sparks a series of snowballing tragedies, all seemingly the result of putting your heart above your mind.

Keep in mind that all human activity in UNDER THE SKIN is being watched by this extraterrestrial. All of our odd eating, socializing, recreational, and sexual habits are on display and we the audience are invited to observe our own peculiarity safely beside her. The scene at the beach is one in which we can’t quite look upon our own kind with her resolute disdain, especially as we see and hear a baby screaming helplessly and trying to escape the oncoming tide. I actually sweat during this entire sequence, I couldn’t help but think about Dean. It felt like a nightmare in its casualness. I wonder why Jonathan Glazer put it in the film. It’s obvious that he staged the entire episode, though it honestly looked and felt as though the cast and crew witnessed a horrible event and filmed it with the same detached fortitude as our alien guide. But it’s the mixture of the baby’s frightful howling with the execution of the horrible events that eventually had me in awe of this film’s focus and complexity. Once the sweat settled I was sure I was witnessing something special.

In that scene we witnessed our inherent weakness, our inability to think through situations logically, and our dwarfing in regards to greater powers such as rip currents, tides, and the unyielding rocks that they smash us against. Within that scene we saw the best and worst of what we had to offer ourselves, each other, and the impassive world that hosts us. The alien’s lack of compassion would have made for a nice dreadful night at the movies if it hadn’t been shaken up by the second scene in which her compassion is suddenly triggered.

As Johansson cruises around looking for meat she encounters a young man with his face deliberately covered. She approaches him like all of the others, but this time the bait isn’t as easily convinced of his own vanity. As he enters the car his face is revealed. He has neurofibromatosis, a disorder that causes tumors to develop on nerve tissue, in this young man’s case it’s on his face, hence why he’s out shopping at such a late hour. Adam Pearson’s performance in this scene is as genuine and human as any I’ve seen in a long time. She begins with the typical drill, trying to coax him by playing into his vanity but realizes that he won’t be so easily ensnared. She asks him if he has a girlfriend, he sits for a second and avoids any eye contact only to slowly shake his head. She then asks him if he has any friends, this time it takes longer for him to respond but he eventually shakes his head two or three times. It’s one of the most heartbreaking things I’ve ever seen in a film and it needs to be. This is the moment when this lonely being finally empathizes with something or someone on our strange planet. Like him, she would be met with similar exile if everyone knew what she really looked like. Up until this point she has only understood that men typically respond to her superficial beauty and her acknowledgment of theirs. He doesn’t believe in her advances until she talks about his hands. Glazer cuts to a shot of this young man pinching himself, so sure he must be dreaming. I felt the same way.

From this encounter the film takes on a deeper meaning once we’ve clawed past the exterior. It’s fitting that a film about the treachery of surfaces would begin with such a monotonous visual and narrative décor ripe for rupturing. I’m still trying to swallow the finale, in which our navigator encounters the worst of human narcissism and specifically what happens thereafter. It’s a harsh note to end on, and an even harder note to wake us from this wonderful dream.