In My Skin [2002]

In My Skin, or more natively Dans Ma Peau, is a brilliantly detestable French film I discovered ensuing an exploration heralded by the recent horror wave from France, captained by the likes of Inside, Martyrs and High Tension.  Not unlike numerous other shock horrors "with a catch", In My Skin tackles the "much-ta-booed-about-nothing" that is self-mutilation.  Sidenote - I've been picking scabs and harming myself via fucked up horrors since I was a kid so fuuuuuck YOU society!  

Let me set this one up fer ya.  We're introduced to Vincent and Esther - a lovely living lonely couple destined for big things in their respected careers - who enjoy socializing, smoking and not-shaving their goods.  

While out partying, Esther - an anorexicly cloned PJ Harvey, with a Christina Ricci'd forehead, sporting a Béatrice Dalle gap-toothed-ian smile, and sorta disgusting in a Winehouse kinda way - ventures outside for some fresh air and falls amongst the darkness and the usual backyard hazardous construction.  Unbeknownst to her she injures herself quite unfavourably - inevitably and surprisingly leading Esther into the wonderful world of sharp objects and bandaid de-stocking.

In My Skin is arguably as disturbing as Pasolini's Salo, as subjectively real as Kerrigan's Clean, Shaven, and as profoundly disturbing as Gummo, Aftermath and I Stand Alone. Marina de Van's directorial debut helms the chair with master-like precision; documenting the downward spiral of Esther's disorder - the disconnection with society and estrangement of the norm - without the shock value squeeze or exploitative gimmicks.  De Van is also equally capable in the lead actor role; a performance that dominates every scene and fuels every cringe.

Unfortunately the thrill ride is cut short as De Van either runs out of ideas or never envisioned a destination as the film just abruptly ends.  Maybe, and quite possibly, she just wanted to leave us hanging like one of her chewed flaps of skin...  well isn't that just artsy of her.

8/10