This is the public-facing rhetorical move par excellence of the radical academic theorist: revel in your radicalism in the seminar room and peer-reviewed journals, but describe your program in the most bland, banal, who-could-possibly-object way for general audiences. Did you know that Marxism is “a refusal to take things for granted”? Why not “follow your dreams” while we’re at it? Never mind the part where “[w]e shall put you in front of a good wall and shoot you,” to quote a poem of Brecht’s. You see this today, too, with the left-identitarians, thinkers who have a nihilistically extensive critique of liberal society—who posit in fact the urgent need to destroy this society—and then, when queried by the public or its representatives, will reply that it’s just about treating people fairly, dude.
But to give the formulation its due, if you truly take nothing for granted, if you never silence the critical intellect, you will in your own mind delegitimize your state and every state, the lives of your neighbors and then your very own life, and you will shoot yourself in the head, as in the aforementioned fictional case of Leo Naphta and the nonfictional one of Mitchell Heisman, possibly after you’ve shot some others à la Brecht or Naptha’s model Lukács, because the critical intellect left to its own devices will annul first the world and then itself. Which is why the profoundest thinkers, i.e., novelists and poets and playwrights, have always suggested a plunge into contact with reality to arrest deconstructive thought processes, from Hamlet to Herzog. Make art, make crafts, have sex, have a child, take a walk, take a drink, dig a garden, plant a tree, get revenge, get a cat—anything at all to remind you that the critical intellect allows itself to be annihilatingly disappointed at the world’s corruption only because it has lost touch with it, literally, and that criticism’s proper service to humanity is as guide and guardrail to action, not as universal solvent.
(Note the details of Hamlet’s example: he only had to kill one person, but deconstructive thought processes made him responsible in whole or part for at least four other deaths and made him suicidal as well; only when he resolved to “let be” could he strike his sole legitimate target, but by then the collateral damage was so great that he forfeited his own life and his country was conquered. A parable for the would-be revolutionary.)
Deconstruction at its best reminded us of these truths, as implied by the quotation from Montaigne that introduces Derrida’s epochal essay on “Structure, Sign, and Play,” but because it was premised on the very purity it set out to debunk—the centered structure organized by neat binary oppositions—it became a very purist argument for impurity. There’s always another binary to undermine over the horizon, always something else and more you could be doing to decenter; so deconstruction finally lent itself to the deranged purity spirals that have marred intellectual life recently. What deconstruction says about strong texts’ essential non-essentialism is basically right, but strong texts achieve this irreducible complexity on tides of emotion that criticism of all sorts has always been bad at capturing, making them elements of reality as well as interpretations of it.
I append all of the above to Leo Robson’s excellent essay-obituary for J. Hillis Miller, from which I draw the opening quotation. This witty catalogue is my favorite paragraph in the piece:
You might say that the effect of deconstruction, in its literary-critical mode, was to augment a presiding canon of largely B-writers (Baudelaire, Benjamin, Borges, Blanchot, etc) with a group of H-figures (Hölderlin, Hegel, Heidegger, Hopkins, to some degree Hawthorne and Hardy), and to replace a set of keywords beginning ‘s’ – structure, sign, signifier, signified, semiotics, the Symbolic, syntagm, Saussure – with a vocabulary based around the letter ‘d’: decentring, displacement, dislocation, discontinuity, dedoublement, dissemination, difference and deferral (Derrida’s coinage ‘différance’ being intended to encompass both). And there was also a growing role for ‘r’: Rousseau, rhetoric, Romanticism (one of de Man’s books was The Rhetoric of Romanticism), Rilke, and above all reading, a word that appeared, as noun and participle, in titles of books by de Man, Hartman, and most prominently Miller: The Ethics of Reading, Reading Narrative, Reading for Our Time, Reading Conrad.
Also this fun fact: “as late as 2012, [Miller] had never read anything by Samuel Richardson.” I am always fascinated by the gaps in brilliant scholars’ reading, and the more time I spent in academe the more I noticed how large the gaps really were. A generalist-dilettante, I try to read a little bit of everything and am consequently bad at being a completist of any one subject or author that a scholar necessarily is. I’ve read Pamela but not Clarissa; for that matter, I’ve read around in Derrida and De Man but, except for his rather psychedelic 2002 primer On Literature, not so much in the late and lamented J. Hillis Miller.
Further reading: my short story, “White Girl,” a dramatization of deconstructive thought processes in action, partially inspired by what I was seeing right here on Tumblr a little less than a decade ago.
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I remain semi-convinced that fictions are uniquely well-equipped to avoid the binarisms and bipolarity of an age, retain even now faith in the bit in Lady Chatterley’s Lover where Lawrence or his narrator says that “the vast importance of the novel, properly handled,” is that it can “lead into new places the flow of our sympathetic consciousness,” or, better still, William Empson saying that the function of imaginative literature is to put you in touch with the “basic fact” that there are people who live by codes, customs, morals, and values different from one’s own.
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Edge of Doom (Mark Robson, 1950).
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wuthering heights (1939)
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The responses to this prompt at Bookforum are worth reading. Most of the contributors blessedly nixed the “activism” idea—just become a social worker already and leave poor art alone, for Christ’s sake—and no one more forcefully than Ottessa Moshfegh:
I wish that future novelists would reject the pressure to write for the betterment of society. Art is not media. A novel is not an “afternoon special” or fodder for the Twittersphere or material for journalists to make neat generalizations about culture. A novel is not BuzzFeed or NPR or Instagram or even Hollywood. Let’s get clear about that. A novel is a literary work of art meant to expand consciousness. We need novels that live in an amoral universe, past the political agenda described on social media. We have imaginations for a reason. Novels like American Psycho and Lolita did not poison culture. Murderous corporations and exploitive industries did. We need characters in novels to be free to range into the dark and wrong. How else will we understand ourselves?
I admire Ottessa Moshfegh’s presence on the literary landscape—the New Yorker profile of her from a few years back was fun, and I remember that it ruffled the smug Twitterati—so I wish I liked her actual writing more, but three quarters of Eileen, one quarter of My Year of Rest and Relaxation, and a handful of short stories didn’t do much for me: gratuitously unpleasant subject matter written up in indifferent prose, I thought. A certain style of dirtbag edginess has always bored me when it was the preserve of white men or at least “white ethnic” men—Miller, Kerouac, Bukowski—and doesn’t bore me any less now that it’s not. I do appreciate, however, Moshfegh’s sharp sense that this aesthetic, among others, is only possible for anyone if writers at large stand down the shrieking moralists.
Kahan Marajan asks for “a white novelist [to] honestly address the experience of being racist, of having racist thoughts and feelings.” Honesty, however, demands this answer: we can either live in a world where such a novel can be written and published or we can live in a world where authors are “held accountable” for “harmful representations,” with “harmful” defined at the whim of aroused social media mobs and timid media monopolies, but we can’t live in both at the same time.
Among other notable responses, Merve Emre’s call for a renewed language-level avant-gardism leaves me cold—language-level avant-gardisms rarely go anywhere and usually survive, if at all, only as academic curios—and Leo Robson’s somewhat cryptically expressed denunciation of
the manner in which earlier breakthroughs in thought or social progress are now taken for granted or worse, not so much the baby thrown out with the bathwater as a garlanded (and often feminist) adult
leaves me puzzled. He might mean that earlier generations of writers now thought “problematic” were actually at the vanguard of artistic and social progress in their own time and at some cost to themselves. This is true, except that the very problem throws the idea of linear progress into question, doesn’t it? (Also, what “garlanded [and often feminist] adult” could he mean? Surely not J. K. Rowling, so I suppose it must be the author whose name concludes his entry, Joyce Carol Oates.) I am encouraged by Michelle Orange’s statement,
If I have shared Rachel Cusk’s aversion to the “fake and embarrassing” contrivances of fiction—plot, character, world-building—my aversion to that aversion is gaining ground
and by Julian Lucas’s related call for American novelists to relearn how to make a novelistic plot.
While I was reading through these responses, my finger strayed up to the Alexa toggle in my browser and I clicked out of curiosity. I’ve never known how far Alexa rankings should be trusted, but if they can be trusted, then this very Tumblr blog, Grand Hotel Abyss itself, has a larger audience than Bookforum, or at least than Bookforum’s website, for which I am thankful to you, dear reader. And I have to wonder if more mainstream institutions are not losing their market share to independent writers precisely because of corporate fiction’s flaws, as observed by the respondents to the above prompt: it is moralistic, narcissistic, plotless, and all-around unexciting. It doesn’t, per Christine Smallwood, leave its readers “shaking, sputtering, like [they] had just (barely) survived a car accident.”
I don’t know if they’ll make you “sputter” exactly, and I do hope to inspire as much thought as feeling, but I’ve been told that Portraits and Ashes and The Quarantine of St. Sebastian House have left their readers with indelible images of intensity. They also have plots, and they are not about my boring life. They are about the moral and political quandary of what means to be alive, yet they aren’t moral tracts or political activism. They will leave you free to form your own judgments of our common dilemma, which I have recreated with all the inventiveness in my power.
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The Seventh Victim (1943) – Episode 97 – Decades of Horror: The Classic Era
"I run to death, and death meets me as fast, and all my pleasures are like yesterday." Join this episode’s Grue-Crew - Whitney Collazo, Chad Hunt, Daphne Monary-Ernsdorff, Joseph Perry, and Jeff Mohr - as they journey once more to the dark world of Val Lewton with The Seventh Victim (1943).
Decades of Horror: The Classic Era
Episode 97 – The Seventh Victim (1943)
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A woman in search of her missing sister uncovers a Satanic cult in New York's Greenwich Village, and finds that they may have something to do with her sibling's random disappearance.
Director: Mark Robson
Writers: Charles O'Neal, DeWitt Bodeen
Cinematographer: Nicholas Musuraca
Producer: Val Lewton
Kim Hunter as Mary Gibson
Tom Conway as Doctor Louis Judd
Jean Brooks as Jacqueline Gibson
Isabel Jewell as Frances Fallon
Hugh Beaumont as Gregory Ward
Erford Gage as Jason Hoag
Lou Lubin as Private Detective Irving August (uncredited)
Chef Milani as Mr. Giacomo Romari
Marguerita Sylva as Mrs. Bella Romari
Evelyn Brent as Natalie Cortez
Ben Bard as Mr. Brun
Mary Newton as Esther Redi
Elizabeth Russell as Mimi (uncredited)
Wally Brown as Durk (uncredited)
Feodor Chaliapin Jr. as Leo (uncredited)
William Halligan as Paul Radeaux (uncredited)
Eve March as Mildred Gilchrist (uncredited)
Dewey Robinson as Conductor (uncredited)
Barbara Hale as Subway Passenger (uncredited)
The fourth of nine budget “horror” films produced by Val Lewton for RKO Radio Pictures, The Seventh Victim falls squarely in the atmospheric subgenre of horror film noir. Joseph expresses his love for Val Lewton, film noir, and horror, calling The Seventh Victim a great combination of the three. Whitney appreciates stories with multiple relationships between characters who have more to offer than what is on the surface, and finds such a story in The Seventh Victim. The stunning visuals filled with shadow and unusual camera angles are what captured Daphne’s attention, and, of course, she loved seeing a younger version of the Beav’s dad (Hugh Beaumont). “Pure Lewton” is what Chad calls this amazing example of noir filmmaking, with it’s great mixture of horror and film noir style. Jeff loves how the story puts a naive and innocent main character in a world where everything seems cryptic and no one seems to say what they really mean.
Of course, the Classic Era Grue-Crew gives The Seventh Victim a hearty recommendation. As of this writing, The Seventh Victim can be streamed from Shudder. Other Lewton-RKO films currently on Shudder are Cat People (1942), I Walked with a Zombie (1943), The Leopard Man (1943), Curse of the Cat People (1944), The Body Snatcher (1945), and Isle of the Dead (1945).
If you’re interested, the Classic Era Grue Crew has covered two other Lewton produced films:
Cat People (1942) – Episode 37
The Body Snatcher (1945) – Episode 66
Gruesome Magazine’s Decades of Horror: The Classic Era records a new episode every two weeks. In the next episode, they will discuss a movie chosen by Chad, Island of Lost Souls (1932), based on H.G. Wells’ The Island of Dr. Moreau (1896). “Are we not men?”
Please let them know how they’re doing! They want to hear from you – the coolest, grooviest fans: leave them a message or leave a comment on the site or email the Decades of Horror: The Classic Era podcast hosts at firstname.lastname@example.org
To each of you from each of us, “Thank you so much for listening!”
Check out this episode!
For the last decade, I’ve been writing reviews and then condensing those to create <100 word summaries that I added to my reading record and, in recent years, also posted here. It’s an oddly satisfying process, but it’s time consuming.
So I’m experimenting with just copying across the key sentence(s) from each of my reviews instead.
Reread: Beginner’s Luck by Kate Clayborn, The Flatshare by Beth O'Leary and Act Like It by Lucy Parker.
Total: thirteen novels (including two audiobooks and three rereads), one novella (audiobook), and one comic volume.
Cover thoughts: The cover for After the War is Over caught my attention.
Still haven’t finished: Between Silk and Cyanide by Leo Marks or Or What You Will by Jo Walton.
Next up: Pawn in Frankincense by Dorothy Dunnett.
My full reviews are on Dreamwidth and LibraryThing.
The Disorderly Knights by Dorothy Dunnett (narrated by David Monteath): Historical, set in 1550s in Scotland and Malta (etc). Sequel to The Game of Kings and Queen’s Play.
Intense and compelling, and… wow. 4½ ★
Love Her or Lose Her by Tessa Bailey: Contemporary romance.
I think I’d like to read a romance which portrays going to counselling more seriously? This was interesting enough to finish but not really my thing.
A Most Improper Magic by Stephanie Burgis: Regency-era children’s fantasy.
Kat, a feisty twelve year old, attends a houseparty with her older sisters; various hijinks ensure. Charming. I intend to read the sequels. 3 ★
Rachel’s Secret by BJ Hoff: Amish romance, set in 1850s.
If this hadn’t been a gift from a relative, I might have felt able to donate it to a secondhand store without reading it first. I liked the initial situation – an Amish widow looks after a critically-injured riverboat captain – but became a bit frustrated as the story progressed. 2½ ★
Goodnight From London by Jennifer Robson (narrated by Saskia Maarleveld): Historical, set in London during WWII.
Ruby, a young American journalist, is sent to work for a London magazine. Occasionally I wished for more poetic prose, witty dialogue or nuanced characters – but most of the time I was too caught up in the story to be critical. 3 ★
The Fall of Ile-Rien trilogy by Martha Wells: Fantasy, parallels worlds. A generation after The Death of the Necromancer, Ile-Rien is at war.
The Wizard Hunters:
This was unexpectedly reminiscent of Wells’ Books of the Raksura – the action-driven pace of the story; the personalities and group dynamics, and especially the imaginative worldbuilding. It took a few chapters but I became completely engrossed. 3½ ★
The Ships of Air:
Much of this takes place on a 1930s-eque ocean liner, a unique setting for a fantasy. I kept expecting something more from the personal developments but still found the story engrossing and read the third book straightaway. 3 ★
The Gate of Gods:
As if it had heard my small grumbles about the previous book, this felt a lot more personal. A tense and satisfying conclusion. 3½ ★
Runaways: But You Can’t Hide (volume 4) by Rainbow Rowell and Andrés Genolet: Marvel superhero comics. Sequel to Find Your Way Home, Best Friends Forever and But That Was Yesterday.
I enjoyed this, especially the found-family and moments of reflection, but came away thinking Oh, is that all? Six issues only allows for so much to happen! 3 ★
Across the Green Grass Fields by Seanan McGuire (narrated by Annamarie Carlson): Coming-of-age portal fantasy. Standalone in the Wayward Children series.
Ten year old Reagan steps through a doorway by the river – and finds herself in the Hooflands, where everyone assumes it must be her destiny to save the world. The ending is a little abrupt but otherwise this is quite satisfactory. 3 ★
After the War is Over by Jennifer Robson: Historical, set England in 1919, with flashbacks. Not officially a sequel but features characters from Somewhere in France (which I haven’t read).
A series of snapshots of the life of Charlotte Brown, an educated unmarried woman of thirty-three, living and working in Liverpool. Interesting and enjoyable, but I was aware of definite tendency for things to be resolved neatly. Because with so much going on, there wasn’t room for exploring complexities? 3 ★
Their Finest Hour and a Half by Lissa Evans: Historical, set in England during WWII.
This is about making a British propaganda film during WWII, an aspect of history I hadn’t seen addressed in fiction before! That was satisfying and fascinating. And as if it had heard my criticisms of the novel I’d read the day before, very little is readily resolved! I mostly liked the ending and certainly don’t regret reading this – I read it all in an afternoon! – but I came away feeling a bit flat. 3½ ★
List of OCs
*Artwork by me unless artist is specified
Holly Frye née Robson (she/her)
Jacob's wife, baker in Victorian London
Art by @val-wywh
Knitting Old Lady (she/her)
Friendly progressive neighbour to @straight-into-the-animus' Alex
Mae Rosabelle Bennett (she/her)
Jacob's love interest, works in her family's bookstore in Victorian London
Nana Gwen (she/her)
Jacob and Evie's maternal grandmother from Rhondda Valley, Wales
Fairy Tail wizard who summons demon maids with a deck of cards
Game of Thrones
Fiyonna Storm of House Elksworth (she/her)
Bastard child of the late Stag King, Robert of the House Baratheon, founder of the noble House Elksworth, whose words are "the stag is kin"
Art by @the-purple-rook
Leopold "Leo" Oscar Daisybloom (he/him or they/them)
Young wizard attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in 1996
Unnamed Pain Eater (she/her)
Vex's love interest, Light Fae who works in the human profession of nursing, using her powers to take the pain away from her patients and unknowingly ending their lives in the process
Non-verbal genderless mental state
The Child (she/her)
A timid and afraid little girl, hides behind tears, hair and sleeves
Mamura (it/its or they/them)
A genderless robot adopted by an old lady living on a cliff
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January’s over so here are a few of my fav first watches from this month! (not in any particular order)
1. Multiple Maniacs dir. John Waters (1970)
2. Rocco and His Brothers dir. Luchino Visconti (1960)
3. Make Way for Tomorrow dir. Leo McCarey (1937)
4. It Happened One Night dir. Frank Capra (1934)
5. The Seventh Victim dir. Mark Robson (1943)
6. Rafiki dir. Wanuri Kahiu (2018)
7. Things to Come dir. Mia Hansen-Løve (2016)
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- A Brother's Loyalty, de Theodore Wharton (1913)
- What's the Matter with Father? (1913)
- Mr. Rhye Reforms (1913)
- Rescuing Dave (1913)
- Love Incognito (1913)
- Their Waterloo (1913)
- Day by Day (1913)
- Dollars, Pounds, Sense (1913)
- No. 28, Diplomat (1914)
- Nuestros superiores, de George Cukor (1933)
- The Pursuit of Happiness, de Alexander Hall (1934)
- Charlie Chan in Paris, de Lewis Seiler y Hamilton MacFadden (1935)
- Age of Indiscretion, de Edward Ludwig (1935)
- The Woman I Love, de Anatole Litvak (1937)
- Dead End, de William Wyler (1937)
- That Certain Woman, de Edmund Goulding (1937)
- Navy Blue and Gold, de Sam Wood (1937)
- Forja de hombres, de Norman Taurog (1938)
- Espíritu de conquista, de Fritz Lang (1941)
- Moon Over Miami, de Walter Lang (1941)
- Murieron con las botas puestas, de Raoul Walsh (1941)
- Woman of the Year, de George Stevens (1942)
- Kings Row, de Sam Wood (1942)
- Yanqui Dandy, de Michael Curtiz (1942)
- The Big Shot, de Lewis Seiler (1942)
- Gentleman Jim, de Raoul Walsh (1942)
- Princess O'Rourke, de Norman Krasna (1943)
- Guadalcanal Story, de Lewis Seiler (1943)
- God Is My Co-Pilot, de Robert Florey (1945)
- You Came Along, de John Farrow (1945)
- The Thin Man Goes Home, de Richard Thorpe (1945)
- Boys' Ranch, de Roy Rowland (1946)
- Courage of Lassie, de Fred M. Wilcox (1946)
- A Southern Yankee, de Edward Sedgwick (1948)
- Más allá del bosque, de King Vidor (1949)
- The File on Thelma Jordon, de Robert Siodmak (1950)
- Mister 880, de Edmund Goulding (1950)
- The Jackie Robinson Story, de Alfred E. Green (1950)
- As Young As You Feel, de Harmon Jones (1951)
- Bright Victory, de Mark Robson (1951)
- Little Egypt, de Frederick De Cordova (1951)
- My Son John, de Leo McCarey (1952)
- Untamed Frontier, de Hugo Fregonese (1952)
- The Star, de Stuart Heisler (1952)
- Roar of the Crowd, de William Beaudine (1953)
- Ten Wanted Men, de H. Bruce Humberstone (1955)
- The Rawhide Years, de Rudolph Maté (1955)
- Trapecio, de Carol Reed (1956)
- The Ambassador's Daughter, de Norman Krasna (1956).
Créditos: Tomado de Wikipedia
Under the Skin is a 2013 science fiction art film directed by Jonathan Glazer and written by Glazer and Walter Campbell, loosely based on the 2000 novel by Michel Faber. It stars Scarlett Johansson as an otherworldly woman who preys on men in Scotland. The film premiered at Telluride Film Festival on 29 August 2013. It was released in the United Kingdom on 14 March 2014, North America on 4 April 2014, Switzerland on 23 July 2014, and worldwide on 10 August 2014
Glazer developed Under the Skin for over a decade; he and co-screenwriter Walter Campbell pared it back from an elaborate, special effects-heavy concept to a sparse story focusing on an alien perspective of the human world. Most of the cast was chosen from applicants without previous acting experience, and many scenes were filmed with hidden cameras.
Under the Skin received acclaim for Johansson's performance, Glazer's direction, and Mica Levi's score. It received numerous accolades and awards; it was named the best film of the year by various critics and publications, was included in many best-of-the-decade lists, and was ranked 61st on the BBC's 100 Greatest Films of the 21st Century list. However, it is considered a box office failure, having grossed just over $7 million on a budget of $13.3 million.
In Glasgow, a motorcyclist retrieves an inert young woman from the roadside and places her in the back of a van, where a naked woman dons her clothes. After buying clothes and make-up at a shopping centre, the woman drives the van from town to town, picking up men. She lures a man into a dilapidated house. As he undresses, following the woman into a void, he is submerged in a liquid abyss.
At a beach, the woman attempts to pick up a swimmer, but is interrupted by the cries of a drowning couple. The swimmer rescues the husband, but the husband rushes back into the water to save his wife and both drown. As the swimmer lies exhausted on the beach, the woman strikes his head with a rock, drags him to the van, and drives away, ignoring the couple's distraught baby. Later that night, the motorcyclist retrieves the swimmer's belongings, ignoring the baby, who is still on the beach.
The woman visits a nightclub and picks up another man. At the house, he follows her into the void and is submerged in the liquid. Suspended beneath the surface, he sees the swimmer floating naked beside him, alive but bloated and almost immobile. When he reaches to touch him, the swimmer's body collapses and a red mass empties through a trough.
The next day, the woman receives a rose from a street vendor, purchased from another man in traffic. She then listens to a radio report about the missing family from the beach. The woman then seduces a lonely man with facial disfigurement but lets him leave after examining herself in a mirror. The motorcyclist intercepts the man and bundles him into a car, then sets out in pursuit of the woman with three other motorcyclists.
In the Scottish Highlands, the woman abandons the van in the fog. She walks to a restaurant and attempts to eat cake, but retches and spits it out. At a bus stop, she meets a man who offers to help her. At his house, he prepares a meal for her and they watch television. Alone in her room, she examines her body in a mirror. They visit a ruined castle, where the man carries her over a puddle and helps her down some steps. At his house, they kiss and begin to have sex, but the woman stops and examines her genitals.
Wandering in a forest, the woman meets a commercial logger and shelters in a bothy. She wakes up to find the logger molesting her. She runs into the wilderness but he catches and attempts to rape her; he tears her skin, revealing a black, featureless body. As the woman extricates herself from her skin, the man douses her in fuel and burns her alive. Elsewhere, the motorcyclist stands on a mountaintop and looks out across a snowy field.
Writing for the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, Duane Dudek speculated that Johansson's character assumes a human identity to collect information about humans as an alien intelligence might, inducing an identity crisis causing her to "spin out of control like a broken machine". He wrote that the motorcyclist can be interpreted as a companion, enabler, or pursuer, and that the "tar-dark world" where the woman submerges her victims may be a nest, a web, another planet or dimension, or a visual representation of how sex feels to her or them. In the Guardian, Leo Robson wrote that Under the Skin deals with race and immigration. He interpreted Johansson's character as a "kind of immigrant", and that the film's title "seems like part of an anti-racial slogan, a reminder that despite our racial or ethnic differences we share some basic components".
Though Glazer said he wanted to make a film "more about a human experience than a gender experience", several critics identified feminist and gender themes. The Economist wrote that "there is some aggressive sexuality in the film: women seem very vulnerable but then men’s desires are punished." In The Mary Sue, Kristy Puchko wrote that Under the Skin "creates a reverse of contemporary rape culture where violence against women is so common that women are casually warned to be ever alert for those who might harm them ... By and large men don't worry about their safety in the same way when walking home late at night. But in the world of Under the Skin, they absolutely should."
Robson wrote that Johansson's character is "both a watcher and predator of men. In the society she enters, and to which she brings nothing besides a body, [she] is a sex object, in dress and demeanour a kind of sex toy; she might have come to Earth to prove a point about male expectations of women ... If Under the Skin communicates any gender-politics message, it does so through the disparity in excitement between the male characters' reaction to [Johansson] and that of the camera." Noah Gittell, discussing in The Atlantic the scene in which Johansson's character undresses before a mirror, wrote: "You would think the first nude scene by a Hollywood star whose body has been the subject of such intense scrutiny would be big news. But the way the film frames it — with Johansson having removed almost all of her personality from the character — it doesn’t play as even remotely sexual, and the scene, remarkably, barely attracted any hype."
Royal Blood - Out of The Black �⛄️�❤️� from David Wilson on Vimeo.
Directed by David Wilson & Christy Karacas
Production Company: Colonel Blimp
Head of Music Videos: Nathan James
Producer: Corin Taylor
Exec. Producer: Paul Weston
Service Company: The Directors Bureau
Line Producer: Benjamin Gilovitz
Director of Photography: Michael Berlucchi
1st AD: Mike Hart
Steadicam Operator: Ari Robbins
Production Designer: Greg Allen Lang
Stylist: Francis & Pereira
Editor: Max Windows
Editing Company: Stitch
Post Company: Finish
Colourist: Julien Biard
Flame: Judy Roberts and Andy Copping
Nuke: Kayley Fernandes
Post Producer: Cheryl Payne
Animation: Mike Carlo, Ian Miller, Yuri Fain, Sachio Cook, Alex Kwan, Sam Marlo
Backgrounds: Sam Marlo & Rachel Gitlevich
Color/ Clean Up: Josh Howell & Justin Irizarry
After Effects Editor: David Eber
Sound Engineers: Sam Robson & James Cobbold at 750MPH
Commissioner: Sam Seager
Label: Warner Music
Gas Station Attendant: Mac Hines
Bunny Mascot: Aaron Groben and John Lyke
Snowman Mascot: John Lyke
Ice-Cream Mascot: Kyle Garrity
Heart Mascot: Mark Rosen
Pumpkin Mascot: Mike Dempsey
Customer 1: Sue Yeon Ahn
Customer 2: Billy Chew
Special Agent: Leo Matchett
Special Agent: Jeremy Lingvall
Special Agent: Andy Price
Special Agent: Kent McGuire
Dead Girl: Stephania Silveira
Police Officer: Ace Underhill
Police Officer: Heather Charles
Police Officer: Bruce Van Patten
Directed by David Wilson & Christy Karacas Production Company: Colonel Blimp Head of Music Videos: Nathan James Producer: Corin Taylor Exec. Producer: Paul Weston Service Company: The Directors Bureau Line Producer: Benjamin Gilovitz Director of Photography: Michael Berlucchi 1st AD: Mike Hart Steadicam Operator: Ari Robbins Production Designer: Greg Allen Lang Stylist: Francis & Pereira Editor: Max Windows Editing Company: Stitch Post Company: Finish Colourist: Julien Biard Flame: Judy Roberts and Andy Copping Nuke: Kayley Fernandes Post Producer: Cheryl Payne Animation: Mike Carlo, Ian Miller, Yuri Fain, Sachio Cook, Alex Kwan, Sam Marlo Backgrounds: Sam Marlo & Rachel Gitlevich Color/ Clean Up: Josh Howell & Justin Irizarry After Effects Editor: David Eber Sound Engineers: Sam Robson & James Cobbold at 750MPH Commissioner: Sam Seager Label: Warner Music Cast: Gas Station Attendant: Mac Hines Bunny Mascot: Aaron Groben and John Lyke Snowman Mascot: John Lyke Ice-Cream Mascot: Kyle Garrity Heart Mascot: Mark Rosen Pumpkin Mascot: Mike Dempsey Customer 1: Sue Yeon Ahn Customer 2: Billy Chew Special Agent: Leo Matchett Special Agent: Jeremy Lingvall Special Agent: Andy Price Special Agent: Kent McGuire Dead Girl: Stephania Silveira Police Officer: Ace Underhill Police Officer: Heather Charles Police Officer: Bruce Van Patten