The Skin I Live In

Tried to type WTF into the box, but I guess it has to be a number between 0 and 100.

I didn't know what to make of it an hour in, and it being my first descent into Almodovar's complex mindset didn't help much either. As the story remarkably unfolds, he thankfully refrains from drowning the film into melodramatic emotional trappings, shunning the temptation of being relevant by shocking the viewer into submission. This is why I love this medium, not just as a visual medium but because of its unpredictability. Recommended.

"I think we all know where this is going." - someone who has absolutely no idea where this is going.

It's Almodóvar strangest film, in which he seems to shoot not too concerned with his well-known reading of kitsch elements. Instead, I believe, he prefers to go deep into his obsessions with the female body -- and the result is so hostile and brilliant that I couldn't just look away. Despite the ordinary surprising-and-passionate-and-human-as-hell finale, this is big -- and Almodóvar knows it's big.

"Wait, so he -- oh what -- NO! WHAT?! Oh what the -- NOOO. Daaaang! Well, shit."