To die for

Under the Skin

Crit

Wow. This may or may not be the best film I see this year, but it's almost certainly the oddest; I wasn't sure until almost the end whether it's science fiction, a crime story, or pornography. And I still have no clue exactly what the unnamed character played by Scarlett Johansson does to the men she picks up in Glasgow, or how she does it, or why she does it, or who the motorcycle dude (or dudes--there seem to be 4 later on, which suggests that maybe we were seeing a different one each time earlier) is, and whether she is willingly allied with him (as she seems progressively less to be).

I am sure that I'm going to be thinking about some of the early-David Lynchesque imagery for a while, and being disturbed it. And I'm sure that Johansson, who last year gave one of her career-best performances without having access to her wonderful face, here gives another amazing performance with little access to her equally wonderful voice. This time it's all with the face, but infinitesimally subtle, the actions and reactions of . . . whatever the hell she is.

Oh, and I'm reasonably certain that the postgame Celtic crowd we see early on has been to an Old Firm match away, since one of the pedestrians asked for directions reveals that Ibrox is nearby.

Oh, and one more thing: I haven't seen any mention of Liquid Sky as a forerunner in the subgenre of alien femme fatale. So I'm mentioning it.