Wednesday, March 7, 2012

REVIEW: The Skin I Live In (2011)

Pedro Almodóvar has been in a rut for the past few films: the skills were still there, but all you need to do is go back to his 80s work to feel that his latest pictures have been low on energy and a bit forgettable. To break the routine, he gets back in touch with his dark and kinky side (as well as Antonio Banderas, whose career he launched) for this truly twisted thriller-horror-melodrama. As with all Almodóvar films, synopsis should be kept at a minimum, so you can enjoy the next sharp right turn without any warning. Suffice it to say that it combines obsession, revenge, and medical experimentation into one diabolical corkscrew of a plot. No one could ever call it forgettable—in fact, it may make you long for the safety of Blue Velvet—and it’s likely to leave many viewers in a state of revulsion. But stick with it, and you may find that this is a very rich and knowing film whose horror comes from provocative points about the gap between outward appearance and inner identity—and how we’re forced to live with one even if it doesn’t fit with the other. In other words, it’s a gender studies horror movie in the same way Peeping Tom is a media theory horror movie, and I expect many college papers will be written accordingly. Tread carefully, and for god’s sake, don’t bring a date.

4 out of 5 stars.

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The Skin I Live In is out on DVD this week from Sony Pictures.

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