If I wanted a lecture in metaphors and symbolism I would attend an English class. I would not waste an hour and a half of my life on a movie that made me want to punch the TV screen, or ponder if our generation is completely doomed. I would rather have had my hair set on fire (at least that would’ve been entertaining) than to have watched this movie. If the devil was going to spawn a movie, “Under the Skin” would be it.
“Under the Skin” is a movie that you cannot begin to explain. Watch the trailer. It sums up the entire movie. Some dimwitted promiscuous girl drives around in a van picking up guys to lead them back to her lair in hopes of something that is over the level of PG-13. She leads them through her house, stripping as they follow her sinking into some sort of liquid.
And that’s it. That is the entire movie right there. The dialog of the movie probably consisted of less than 200 words. The rest is watching a girl act like a bimbo and guys getting sudden urges of lust.
Let’s wake up and smell the coffee here. I know I’m not a professional movie critic, but heck I was lying in bed, hair in a messy bun wearing the same pajamas I had for three days straight and I still wasn’t amused. Watching the National Chess finals was more exciting than this movie could ever dream of being.
Face it, people watch movies because we are lazy. We want fast information or entertainment without much effort. I don’t want to watch a long movie about nothing, and then later analyze it to find out what it really means. Were they making a statement about how women are more than their bodies? Or that men can be victims of heartbreak as well? I don’t care.
If I wanted to further my education on how women are discriminated against, or how men can also experience pain, I would read a Cosmo magazine. I would not scroll through the horror section on Nexflix.
If you really feel the need to see the movie watch the trailer. Save yourself 88 minutes.