The Skin I Live In

Whilst Maya was off at her Homecoming dance last Saturday, watching in horror the spectacle that is ‘freak dancing’, Ted and I were at home with a DVD, watching in horror the extreme weirdness that is The Skin I Live In. Which is not to say that we didn’t like it. We both did, quite a bit. But God, it was strange, and sure left a person with some insane images. Picture Boxing Helena, but done well. (Let me stop here to say, if you’ve not seen Boxing Helena, good for you. Keep it that way. Seriously.)

In The Skin I Live In, Antonio Banderas plays a brilliant but seriously disturbed plastic surgeon, who lost his wife years ago to a fiery car crash. He is obsessed with skin, with creating a new, synthetic skin, that can withstand extreme heat (and mosquito bites!). Unbeknownst to the scientific community, he has been testing this skin, not on lab rats as he claims, but on a girl that he keeps prisoner in his house, a large mansion which includes a surgical lab and cameras everywhere. That’s it. That’s not at all it to the story, but that’s all I’m going to tell you here, because to tell you more would ruin the film. If you’re the least bit interested, don’t read more about it, because there are many twists and turns, and you don’t want to ruin it for yourself.

The film explores many themes…identity, obsession, revenge, and more. I recommend this film, but be warned. It’s weird.