The surveillance has an insidious quality; there's a sense that Johansson is a succubus draining life from the town. The stolen shots feel like dispatches from the middle of British urban decay; fights in nightclubs, boarded-up buildings and hooded youths. Is she the reckoning? Does this degeneration lie at her feet - like the enemy within - or is she just chancing on a society slowly approaching collapse? The film is a bracing combination of social realism and heightened genre flourishes. The "feeding" scenes are opaque, impressionistic sequences that punctuate the more grounded elements. Aided by painterly compositions, they are at the heart of the film's enigma.
The events that unfold within such moments are narratively unclear, but they're rich in allegory and seeping with clinical eroticism, forming the picture's tonal backbone. The Scottish landscape unfolds in the shadow of these scenes. We begin to question our senses and surroundings; as a mist descends over the Highlands, the terrain feels alien, apocalyptic even. The simplicity of Under the Skin's narrative belies its thematic richness, with every moment freighted under the weight of potential readings. Through technical mastery and bold ambiguity, Glazer may have given us the best science fiction movie in a decade.
Under the Skin featured in CineVue's ‘Best films of 2014’ feature. You can read the full list here