I’ve spent some time away from the blog as of late; I’ve been working on a project. I am writing a story in an area I’ve never explored but always wanted too. It’s a scary story and it’s been a lot of fun so far.
As part of the process, I’ve been watching scary movies, listening to scary books and, to be honest, watching some pretty terrifying documentaries. The lines between fiction and nonfiction aren’t quite as clear as I’d thought they were!
I suppose that is a story for another time, though. At the moment, we’re here because of one of the best horror movies of all time, Under The Skin. I recently watched it for perhaps the fourth time. My belief that this is one hell of an amazing movie still holds true.
If art is supposed to have an effect on you, if it’s supposed to make you feel something, then this is textbook art. It truly has a disorienting, sickening effect on its viewer. For its genre, that’s the money effect, that’s what they’re shooting for. It is a piece of art that grabs ahold of you and shakes you around a bit then starts crawling around in your head, haunting and lovely.
I should alert here that there is some spoilage ahead.
From the opening of the film, it’s obvious that we’ll be embarking on an epic journey weighed down with suspense:
From out of the black we see the blue planet. It floats, suspended in the void of space. A vulnerable pin-prick on a vast black canvas, we see Earth being approached by its predator.
The jarring, sinister hissing of violin strings builds the ominous tone that will cease to relent throughout the film. The inclining music scratches as the predator sculpts and refines its bait.
Scarlett Johanssen is of course the perfect bait, easily coaxing her prey, the lonely human male, by enticing the intrinsic, primal desire present in nearly every one. It presumes it backwards that women are the ones being exploited in an environment, such as a strip club, where they are actually earning a living from exploiting men. After all, it is the male who is being separated from his money for the opportunity to simply observe a woman’s beauty. It’s a powerful position, and the predator sees this position as the most efficient means of ensnaring its prey.
The inhumanness of the predator is ever apparent, especially illustrated in the chilling scene at the beach. It literally left me feeling nauseous. The bleakness only intensifies as we discover the ghastly manner in which the predator consumes its prey. It’s both horrifying and fascinating. Seeing the prey as they are being slowly consumed can chill the blood.
At the same time that we are being overwhelmed by darkness and terror, we are shown the exquisite beauty found within the simplicity of life on Earth. In addition to darkness, we are shown the light.
The film explores stunning and graceful events we might take for granted. Things like fog or a slice of chocolate cake become quite extraordinary through the eyes of a creature experiencing them for the first time. Tripping on the sidewalk and human relations are all suddenly intriguing mysteries begging to be solved.
The movie brilliantly presents the oddness of humanity. As people swarm abut the city like a colony of ants, bewilderment and curiosity take hold, chipping away at the hunter’s focus. Rather than a killing machine with a one track mind, the hunter becomes distracted, slightly confused. It’s almost as though the predator envies its prey.
This anomaly seems to attract the attention of the clean-up man. Who is the clean-up man? He swoops in on a motorcycle and erases any evidence strewn in the wake of the hunt; we can only assume he’s another aspect of the predatory process. This then begs the question: how complex is the killing apparatus we’re witnessing? How many tentacles does it have? How many are amongst us; how many are walking under the skin?
This itself speaks to the imagination of the filmmakers. They’ve created perhaps one of the most incomprehensible villains of all time, capturing an otherworldly perspective that can only provoke confusion.
And why shouldn’t we be confused? Most films tell their stories from a human perspective, they take place in realms that are defined by concepts we believe to be static, such as the laws of physics. They begin with concepts we can understand. There should be no assumptions that we could accurately perceive or understand an extraterrestrial presence.
What is comprehensible is the cold indifference of the villain at her pinnacle. She embodies the concept that nature is metal, unfeeling and always hungry. Is her only weakness her curiosity about the planet and the species she’s invaded? Or is she simply exhausting the lifespan of any particular facet of the predator’s feeding apparatus? As she grows weaker, herself becoming a loose end in need of cleaning, she finds the temptations of human existence all the more alluring.
By no means is this a film for everyone. Watching it will expose one to some disturbing images. It will also expose one to some stunningly beautiful ones as well. If you don’t merely tolerate, but rather appreciate very dark films with a considerable amount of nudity, this film might be for you.
If you've seen this film, love it or hate it, please let me know!
Your article encouraged me to rewatch this film. I got so much more out of "Under the Skin" the second time, thanks to you! I'm always in search for good sci fi and horror films. And here's a review about the film that I thought had a lot of interesting things to say: https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/under-the-skin-2014