Under the Skin | Jonathan Glazers Alien Look at Humanity

In August 2013 Scarlett Johansson arrived at the Venice Film Festival for the premiere of her latest film; right off the high of 2012’s The Avengers she was one of Hollywood's untouchables, however this premiere was not set to be a celebration of her stardom but a stark reminder of the divisive nature of art. As the credits rolled on Under the Skin a smattering of boos began. Festival director Alberto Barrerra described it as the ‘worst premiere’ in the festival's history and it almost brought Johansson to tears, but Barrera understood that not all was lost. In this low moment he turned to Johansson and whispered ‘don’t worry, in time the film will be recognised’ and, in time, it was. 

Under the Skin is a masterpiece of science fiction,  a modern classic written and directed by Jonathan Glazer and loosely adapted from Michael Faber's book of the same name. The film follows an alien, Laura (Johansson) as she prowls the streets of Glasgow searching for single men, observing humanity coolly from a distance. The film can be uncomfortable, it is bizarrely, disquietingly real, the subject matter is dark and the ending is brutally abrupt. It was controversial for a reason and, for many, the initial reaction to the film would be disheartening but for Glazer, who admires the controversial works of Kubrick and Bunel, it was ideal. He allegedly said of the boos at the Venice Film Festival ‘that was the most amazing sound I’ve ever heard’, upon the realisation that he’d achieved the same degree of controversial notoriety of his idols. Interestingly enough, Johansson compared the film’s initial reaction to the feeling she had watching Stanley Kubrick's polarising masterpiece Eyes Wide Shut for the first time, a film she initially disliked but eventually fell for. 

If you look beyond the controversy however, in Under the Skin you will find a truly poignant exploration of humanity: beautiful, dark and tragic. It has become a classic for a reason, it’s a brilliant work of fiction and one of the 21st centuries most singular films, it is central to understanding Glazer as a filmmaker, both in his early work and in the themes and motifs that would go on to define his next feature film, The Zone of Interest, 10 years later. Like that film, Under the Skin opens in darkness, a black screen with a stressful symphony of high strings playing in the background, a distant bright light slowly growing in the darkness. What follows is truly one of the most mesmerising scenes ever which Glazer called an homage to the ‘established language of Sci-fi’. It’s a stunning work of visual effects; Laura’s birth is pictured in a way as terrifying, beautiful and abstract as the film itself. It sets the tone for the entire film, setting the mood with its abstraction and unnerving sound design (always a focus in Glazers films). 

Whilst Under the Skin is clearly in conversation with science fiction of the past, what really sets it apart is the unique approach to realism it takes. It deals with many recognisable themes but the actual ‘alien’ elements are fairly brief, as Laura’s alien form is only truly seen in the film's final moments. Though there are moments of hallucinogenic surrealism, a lot of the time Glazer opts for uncomfortable realism. The audience is trapped in the alien's predatory gaze - like he would later do with The Zone of Interest, Glazer uses multiple cameras hidden inside Laura’s van to create a kind of unobtrusive reality, for many of these scenes (which at times were filmed with unaware extras) it feels like you’re watching something almost documentary-like in style. A lot of the scenes fall completely into darkness with nighttime shots often lit with only natural sodium-vapour street lights, as Glazer wanted the set to feel ‘unadorned’. You feel like you’re prowling the streets with Laura, watching each passerby on a long lens which functions as her point of view, one wide angle shot looking out from behind the van’s windshield has your eyes searching through the frame gazing out at potential victims just as Laura does. 

Her gaze is cool, patient and distant - it is entirely alien. This perspective is best reflected in the film's chilling beach scene. Laura watches as a couple flounder in the waves, a husband trying to desperately save his wife from drowning, leaving their young child alone on the shore. The camera watches from a distance on a long lens, holding long on wide shots that very bluntly portray the horror, the perspective is bleak and uncompromising. Laura shows no remorse, just observational curiosity, she does not intervene - the audience is made to watch. The wife dies and the husband is washed ashore. It’s challenging and heart wrenching and, as Laura kills the husband with a rock, brutal. It’s the ultimate display of the aliens' omniscient evil and a portrayal of just how bleak and unfair the human world is: a family is torn apart and a child left alone to suffer. 

However, as the film progresses the camera's gaze starts changing. Laura begins to desire a human life, no longer existing at a distance but instead looking closer and more intimately at the world around her. This change is first shown in a deceptively simple scene that sees Laura trip over on the street, falling flat on the ground as she’s helped up by unassuming Glaswegians who in their response (that is truly genuine given the people had no idea they were on camera) shows Laura true human kindness. She begins to appreciate humanity's beauty, she looks in the mirror at her own body, at her own face and she begins to appreciate it, to see the beauty in it, the distant long lens of the beach scene is replaced with a close, intimate glance in the mirror, the lighting warmer, the scene calmer. 

Laura looks in the mirror and sees humanity reflected in her adopted form. In this moment she decides to let her latest victim, a deformed and sorrowful soul, go free. The film shows humanity in a refreshingly honest way and Glazer's decision to hide many of the cameras allows for an almost entirely truthful observation - Under the Skin has the power to show us ourselves in a rare and refreshing way; through the eyes of an outsider, one who comes to understand us for our beauty and our pain. She is taken in by a man with whom she eventually desires a sexual connection, as she desires to be truly human. However, the film's ending rips life away from her, a brutal and abrupt reminder of the cruelty humanity is capable of. Her desire for humanity was her undoing, just like it was for the alien seductress before her who died with a single tear frozen on her cheek. 

Under the Skin’s style feels alien itself, it is no surprise it was so controversial. It is very minimalist and often light on dialogue, but it has moments of truly inventive surrealism with its use of stunning effects and crossfades. It can be uncomfortable and tense and the material is certainly not the most palatable. It was a risk for all involved, it was the culmination of 10 years of Jonathan Glazer’s career and a truly unique departure from Johansson’s usual movie roles. Financially it was not a risk that entirely paid off, bringing in a total of $7.2 million internationally off of a $13.3 million production budget. However, this does little to hurt the film's legacy as despite its small fan base the film is still critically respected to this day. In 2019 (6 years after its release) the Guardian named it the fourth best film since the year 2000, and it is still discussed and discovered by cult film enthusiasts. Under the Skin is a truly remarkable, divisive and strangely beloved film that has more than cemented itself as a modern cult classic.    

Written by Jonah Prisk | IG: @jonahprisk