La piel que habito

Un tema psicológicamente fuerte e irritante, presentado como un arte cinematográfico noble e sin emociones. El impacto en el espectador, su percepción de la historia y el posterior descarrilamiento psicológico, por lo tanto, no se producen, y permanece «apenas» el entusiasmo por el admirable perfeccionismo y la elegancia cinematográfica. Banderas como un doctor oscuro sin una pizca de ética médica o humana es brillante, Elena Anaya es hermosa. Una obra notable, en cierto modo excepcional. (17.10.2011)

Pořádně ujetý psychothriller, ¡pero también increíblemente bien hecho! Antonio Banderas en un papel bastante inusual y me parece que Elena Anaya solo quiere desnudarse y pinchar sin parar, o los directores se lo exigen, preferentemente con algún matiz triste o cruel. Muy buena, pero loca diversión cinematográfica con un componente musical muy bonito. (02.12.2016)

Pedro Almodóvar, a rebel who sowed his wild oats long ago and who emerged from the Madrid underground into the festival sunlight, allowed himself to be a bit more eccentric than in his previous film, this time taking literally Barbara Creed’s idea (from the book The Monstrous-Feminine) about women as horror-movie monsters.  As befits a post-modern artist, few things are unambiguous, least of all who will ultimately win this multi-genre battle of (with) the sexes. The Skin I Live In is an excellent example of an open text. Some questions are left without answers, while others are answered with such straightforwardness that they raise suspicion. The film veers from the serious topics of voyeurism and self-identification to shallow viewer attractions known from Italian giallo films (whose visual opulence Almodóvar’s work always most closely resembles). The narrative is much more muted than the characters’ behaviour and, as a whole, The Skin I Live In comes across as surprisingly balanced and coherent, without room for truly disturbing content, which is also due to the “gentle” transitions between scenes of radically different content and the relaxed pace of the narrative. Unfortunately, there is also no room for enabling us to delve into the characters in order to determine who deserves to suffer and how much they deserve it. It remains up to us who we will feel sorry for, which can be part of a game without clear rules. But it doesn’t have to be. 80% (12.10.2012)

Another Pedro gender transgression permeated with distilled melodrama and flamboyant visual pose. I was bored to death with one of his films for the first time and left with the hollow feeling that, after excellent self-reflection in the form of Broken Embraces, Almodóvar once again falls into his obsession with empty poses and fetishes, which are interesting in and of themselves, but in terms of any reflection they are mined only by their flamboyant otherness and exaggeration. I understand that this theatrical image of a man's desire for a non-existent perfect body and the flow of sexual desire may theoretically be impressive, but it completely missed the mark for me. (04.07.2011)

An exploitation horror premise in the hands of an arthouse director. The result is a remarkable film that took me from mild cringe to absolute enthusiasm. Beautifully shot, very smart in the way it doses the information (for a moment I was afraid that what was clear already from the middle of the movie would be revealed as a shocking twist by the end, but Almodóvar fortunately doesn’t underestimate his audience), and arousing a whole range of emotions. It’s been long since I saw a film where genres alternate and blend so smoothly and lightly. From The Skin I Live In you could easily cut a trailer for horror, comedy, drama, science fiction and even a romantic film, and I’m sure it won’t take long for something like that to appear on YouTube. PS: If you want to watch an underground horror take of the same premise, have a go at Victim, but not before watching The Skin I Live In, otherwise you’ll ruin the experience). (09.09.2011)