Film Review: 'Under the Skin'

It's not very often that a commercial film has a strong impact on me, especially a sci-fi film. Jonathan Glazer's 'Under the Skin,' however, was a rare exception.

It's been several days since I went to see the film, which had its U.S. release on April 4th, and it is still reverberating in my mind. Sparse dialogue, arthouse shots, and Mica Levi's eerie, electronic soundtrack all serve to make the film poignant and unnerving.

If you were simply hoping to see Scar Jo in the buff, you might be disappointed; despite the fact that Scarlett Johansson is naked, or close to naked for most of the film, 'Under the Skin' is more unsettling than sexy.

Harsh, unflattering lighting, Johansson's stoic facial expressions, and the underlying dread that marks each sexual interaction.

'Under the Skin,' which is adapted from Michael Faber's 2000 sci-fi novel of the same name, tells the story of an alien who lands in Scotland. Taking the guise of an attractive young woman (played by Scarlett Johansson), the alien scours the streets of Glasgow in a white van, seeking out victims--specifically young, lonely males--and enticing them with the promise of sex.

With the help of her motorcycle-riding cohort, she leads these men to their demise, luring them into a mysterious body of liquid which preserves their bodies so she can, presumably, harvest parts of them later.

The early half of the film is a mind-numbing repetition of charm and capture, punctuated by little snippets of Glasgow life; we follow Johannson's character around the city as she takes in the mundane scenes with a mixture of bemusement and detachment.

Looking out at the passing world through her eyes, whether it be while walking down a crowded street or peering out through the van's misty windows, one cannot help but feel like an outsider them self.

The film is intentionally slow paced, so viewers can fully experience the transformation which Johansson's character undergoes. In the beginning of the film, she is remorseless when it comes to collecting her victims; during a particularly disturbing scene on a beach, she drags off a surfer after beating him unconscious, leaving a screaming baby to fend for itself.

All the while, she appears wholly unaffected by its cries. The more time she spends in the world and exposes herself to these men, however, the more human she starts to become.

Her curiosity gets the best of her and we witness a gradual awakening of humanity--or something like it--within her.

This awakening takes form in a number of way: when she takes pity on her disfigured victim and lets him go, when she becomes physically intimate with the man that takes her in, when she self-consciously studies her reflection in the mirror, when she orders a piece of cake at a restaurant (and immediately spits it out after).

Once she begins to open herself up to human feelings and experiences, she inevitably becomes more vulnerable.

Not only does she become the victim of her own new and conflicting emotions, but she herself becomes the target of another's ill intentions.

Without revealing too much, I can say that Johansson's character is forced to let down her defenses and shed her guise in a symbolic act of rebirth into the human world.

Unfamiliar with Faber's novel, I can't say exactly how much Glazer's version actually leaves out, but I can say that the film benefits from its lack of a conventional plot or extraneous information. Glazer doesn't want viewers to focus on the alien planet Johansson's character derives from or the extent of the mission she has been sent to execute. He wants them to focus on Earth.

More specifically, he wants them to focus on what it means to be human---the pleasure, the pain, the beauty, and triviality of it all. Unexpectedly poetic for a film about an alien invasion.

If you haven't already seen it, I suggest you do so before it leaves theaters. And if you have, I suggest you give it some time to digest and then go see it again.