Post by StevePulaski on Mar 12, 2013 16:40:13 GMT -5
Antonio Banderas and Elena Anaya.
Rating: ★★★★
Pedro Almodóvar's The Skin I Live In (La piel que habito) possesses bizarre, disturbing, and beautiful traits that are all rolled into one film that is a work of divine art. There is so much in the film, as it merges genres, invites different subplots in, invokes debate, and disrupts conventional movie timelines that, by casual assumption, should dismantle its impact or have its effect crushed by ambition. And yet, those qualities make it masterful and poignant all the more. There is a daunting way Almodóvar captures obsession and career-consumption, and needless to say, it's consuming in itself.
It all begins with Antonio Banderas' simply electrifying performance as Dr. Robert Ledgard. Banderas knows how to liven any scene with his frightening charisma and chilling vibe, and here, he never makes a wrong move in a complex, deeply layered role. His character is a brilliant, persistent plastic surgeon, in the mix of developing a new type of skin that can resist burns and insect bites. He lives in a lavish mansion, teaching classes on anatomy, and living a seemingly quiet life, mostly closeting his ambition and drive for scientific discovery. One of the people he is experimenting on is an attractive young woman named Vera (Elena Anaya), who we see becomes engrossed in the thought of continuing/reviving a sexual relationship with him.
We center our sights on this for roughly thirty-five minutes, before flashing back six years earlier, where all the characters are brought into a totally different light. I have never seen a film introduce all the characters in one half of the film, leading us one way, than pulling a so-called "fast one" in the second half, swaying us another way. Spoiling the details would be criminal; the motivations, character thoughts, and the reveal on how this obsession with skin actually came to be is truly unforeseeable. But as strange and peculiar it may be, Almodóvar doesn't devote his energy to shocking us, nor does he devote it to being the only thing the film has going for it. He is smart by making the picture continue to run on intelligence, design, and unmistakable suspense after the twist is revealed. If a typical director picked up a pen to write a similar screenplay, likely after the big reveal would be a plodded out series of events lacking a sense of direction. This seems like a film only the person who came up with the idea could make effectively - and as luck would have it, they did.
The film is, by an unconventional definition, a horror film. The traditional definition is, "a film seeking to elicit a negative emotional reaction from viewers by playing on the audience's primal fears." I doubt a primal fear for many is what the film has in store, but the true thought of it and the process taken by the characters is what could lead to a startle or a cringe equated to in a traditional horror movie. This is one of the dozen reasons Almodóvar succeeds in his efforts to make the film work; he manipulates the audience in an assertive way, not to generate frustration, but equate it to one of an unsettling nature. The Skin I Live In bares a presence few would knowingly want to experience while watching a movie, and it's that element of surprise that is initiated to make its definition of "a horror movie" a completely valid one.
Moreover, the culture being shown here is the visceral and universal culture of career-consumption, devotion, ethics, family, and obsession, as well as revenge. For Spanish cinema, this is truly is a strong work, showing that eerie and affecting stories can range from all over the world. Pedro Almodóvar has become one of the most renowned Spanish filmmakers in history for good reason. While picking a very eclectic and freakish subject matter to focus on, he beautifully illustrates the effects that family have on one's mindset, the importance of finding a distinct identity, and carrying out a true passion in a way that makes one feel useful and productive, but could also channel unwanted, suppressed feelings that shouldn't see the light of day. Not only is this a film that can go down as one that depicts culture well, but it offers an intense, fiery psychological debate as well; is Dr. Fedgard acting on his id or superego? Is the behavior he engages normal for him, or has a traumatic event lit a burning fire under his true feelings for life and biomedical research?
The Skin I Live In is a film to laud. It's intriguing, multi-layered, haunting, effecting, mesmerizing, beautifully stylistic, and a wholly immersing movie experience. Its low-key presence and looming feeling of a disturbance or an abrupt event occurring, combined with Almodóvar's keen eye for framing and atmosphere make this picture all the more enthralling and unsettling. The fact that it proposes the ideas of complex Spanish culture and psychological relevance, without focusing too much or too little on each subject, gives it even more leverage as an experience as well. It's one of the most unforgettable viewings I've had this year.
Starring: Antonio Banderas and Elena Anaya. Directed by: Pedro Almodóvar.