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Jonathan Glazer’s creepy, disturbing science-fiction film, starring Scarlett Johansson as an alien embodiment of a Venus flytrap, is hauntingly meaningless; a circuitous journey of a lusciously robotic fake -female, as she victimizes real men in her quest to adapt to an unfamiliar world.

Johansson has the attributes and uses them skillfully: cultured English accent paired with barely distinguishable Scottish brogues; a borrowed facade that intrigues her when confronted with a mirror; unflinching, barely blinking she epitomizes a being with no cognizance of the human condition. There is a harrowing scene in which she observes a drowning; a solitary, howling child on a desolate shore is left, as insignificant as a grain of sand.

At times blazingly beautiful;  Scotland’s undulating countryside, the astral descent of the alien; slick, black, obliterating void; reminiscent of the glorious cinematography in Terrence Malick’s “Tree of Life”; regardless the film is cold, enervating, insignificant.

Eventually what is “under the skin” is revealed;  the revelation was not worth the price of admission.



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  1. I saw this last night – you’re dead on in your assessment of the film. The baby on the beach at high and higher tide stayed with me, and indeed, framed the whole film for me. (not to mention giving me nightmares). To be truly human, one has to care. She learned fear, but apparently the film wasn’t long enough for her to learn compassion.

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