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This is undoubtedly the darkest of all Almodovar. Here, the director abandons almost completely melodramatic speech devoted to him and dives deeply into a realm of more psychological approach than usual, full of nuances and shocking. Proof that he is able to get out of your comfort zone and venture into original productions.
Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of The Skin I Live In is a confused gender identity built upon the character Vicente/Vera. Robert Ledgard, responsible for the handling, believes, like all good stuff, we're just skin we inhabit. Thus, he believes to be carrying the most severe punishment to the rapist of his daughter, as irreversible as death would be a life of shame and humiliation a female body as despised by Vincent (played by an excellent Jan Cornet).
However, the plot takes unexpected directions when confronted the viewer with the past of Dr Ledgard, plagued not only by the rape (and then suicide) of her daughter, but also by the death of his wife. What should be only a quest for revenge becomes a quest for resurrection of lost love. Vincent gets a face almost identical to the deceased wife of a surgeon and extra protection against burns, skin highly resistant. Robert arrives to declare for their creation transsexual she "never has been burned again". There had been a necrophiliac transfer morbid personality, like the classic Hitchcock film "Vertigo".
Dr Ledgard, by this time had forgotten the whole accident why would continue that crazy saga, but not Vincent. This was still a little about himself alive, a "soul" that overlaps the whole matter that lived there, however modified and tangible (a fact that triggered the tragic end). Thus, it is possible to say that the greatest message of Almodóvar is that no matter where we are or how the body we have modified, our essence will always remain and will overcome (message that can be taken both as an ode to the human soul and beauty inside and a heavy critique of contemporary exaggerations in plastic interventions).
The art direction is tremendous: the colors of Almodovar almost disappeared, giving way to a cold surgical practice, but not so barren (by contrast, is required for immersion and psychological tension voyeuristic). The picture is flawless, the soundtrack by Alberto Iglesias is one of the best by the Spanish and filmography of the performances leave nothing to be desired. Highlights also include the excellent script and the sober direction. Through The Skin I Live In, Pedro Almodovar shows the world that can escape the commonplace that gave him fame and, thus, stands as one of the greatest filmmakers of our time.
