Three rapists, a vengeful surgeon, two victims and a web of grotesque relationships
The Skin I Live In is yet another twist in celebrity entitlement. It
seems that when directors achieve world-wide recognition for their considerable
talents, they feel entitled to push the limits of their art, and when they do,
they push it right in the face of the captive audience that has come to see
their work. Pedro Almodovar
has made many fine movies (All About My Mother and Volver among
many.) Over the years he has become a darling of the New York Film Festival that
chose this film to open their 2011festival, and this past summer it was a big
hit in Cannes.
On such
occasions the entertainment press tends to massage its ego by applauding
anything that offends ordinary movie goers. Although others may interpret this
movie in ways different from mine, the truth of it is that I saw only depravity,
sadism, and brutality. Some, by a long stretch of the imagination, might find
the humor and fright we see in the old but famous Frankenstein. But this
one is too rooted in reality to take flight.
Avoiding
specifics - in case you choose to see it - here's the general drift. Robert
Ledgard (Antonio Banderas) is an accomplished surgeon who has a fully equipped
surgical clinic in a mansion run to perfection by Marilla (Marisa Paredes.) The
clinic exists for Robert to indulge his surgical fantasies. He has imprisoned
Vera (Elena Anaya) in basement isolation where her necessities arrive via
dumbwaiter. He is using her as the guinea pig for the new surgical skin he has
developed in reaction to the virtual incineration of his wife in a car
accident..
When Robert's
daughter Norma (Blanca Suarez) is raped by a young fellow named Vicente (Jan
Cornet), the good doctor kidnaps, beats, and starves the boy before bringing him
to the clinic for ruthless surgery. Here you will also meet Zeca (Robert Alamo),
another repulsive rapist with a past. All told, we now have three rapists, a
vengeful surgeon, two victims, and a convoluted web of grotesque relationships.
I won't ruin an already bad thing for you by explaining the relationships. Just
be assured that you will see all of these monsters at work.
There is no
denying the visual impact of both Almodovar's
outstanding filming and the production details, but his skill can't lift the
film beyond its subject and characters. These are people ensnared in the sick
thoughts of a doctor who has both the imagination and the tools to implement his
impulses. This is a lushly crafted film about a madman with the physical power -
as in guns, chains, straps, starvation, and medical procedures - to indulge his
hideous fantasies. The director has rekindled thoughts of Joseph Mengele, the
Nazi medical experimenter, and this is certainly not something most people want
to revisit as entertainment - even in the hands of the talented Pedro Almodovar.
Why, I wonder, has he invited audiences into this nightmare?
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