SKIN DEEP (2024) - Mark Reviews Movies

Skin Deep, Kino Lorber

Follow on Facebook | Follow on Twitter | Become a Patron

Review by Mark Dujsik | February 1, 2024

Fraternal co-writers Dimitrij and Alex Schaad (The latter also directed) take a gimmicky premise with Skin Deep and turn it into something deeper than one might expect. The story involves a mysterious, unexplained process of body-swapping, wherein some strange tower in the middle of nowhere allows people to exchange consciousnesses between their bodies. The screenwriters accept this as a fact, ignore any of the spiritual or magical or technological mechanics of the process, and put a seemingly happy couple through the psychological wringer of the consequences.

That couple is made up of Leyla (Mala Emde) and Tristan (Jonas Dassler), who look to be in love and content with each other. It's pretty clear that Tristan, a classical guitar player, is more content than his partner in general, though, because Leyla just has the heavy visage and quiet demeanor of someone going through something or other. Despite the high-concept setup of this story, the mysteries of these characters are far more important to the filmmakers than anything else.

The plan is simple—or at least as simple as this odd metaphysical procedure can be. Along with a group of other folks gathered at some remote lodge in the country, Leyla and Tristan will change bodies with another couple, chosen at random by lottery. Leyla knows of this secretive group and gathering on account of an old college friend, who's currently inhabiting the body of her late father.

Well, the body of Stella (Edgar Selge) is technically the deceased, but her mind, her self, her soul, or her consciousness—whatever it is that makes a person an individual entity beyond the physical limitations of the body—is in the father's body. The father's mind, self, etc. died when an aneurysm ruptured in her brain, and once that's established later, the opening scene, which shows Stella discovering both her dead father and her own dead body, takes on a haunting quality that's difficult to fully process.

The whole film offers a series of tricky existential and moral conundrums and paradoxes with which to deal. First, there's that initial swap, when our main couple is paired with Mo (the non-directing Schaad brother) and Fabienne (Maryam Zaree). These two are about as unlike Tristan and Leyla as possible. Mo is loud, openly narcissistic, and friendly in a way that can quickly become grating, and Fabienne is much better at putting on a brave and smiling face against her uncertainties and doubts.

The two couples swap, with Tristan's mind inhabiting Mo's body and Leyla's entering Fabienne's (and vice versa on both counts). Tristan-as-Mo is quite miserable, because Mo's body is out-of-shape, his hands and fingers aren't as dexterous in handling the guitar, and there's just some kind of inexplicable mood that makes it difficult for Tristan to get this body out of bed, let alone go outside and mingle. Meanwhile, there's a particularly uncomfortable punch line to the flip side of the transfer, when Mo reveals just how self-involved he really is.

As for Leyla, Fabienne's body lets her exercise and just makes her feel good for the first time in a long time. Sitting and talking with Stella, the friend reminds her that much of any person's self is at least partially defined by the hormonal and other chemical balance—or imbalance, as is likely the case with Leyla based on the evidence presented—of the individual's body, so of course her mind is going to feel different when it's occupying a different physiology.

These are the discussions the characters have here, and such are the ideas the material presents. The premise might be a familiar gimmick, but there's nothing gimmicky about the way the Schaads develop this story. There are expected complications, such as when Fabienne-as-Leyla and Tristan-as-Mo find themselves together, but even those take on a more complex air.

What does it say about these two that they're almost intrinsically attracted to the mere appearance of their respective partners, despite knowing that the partner's mind isn't actually present in that body? One of Leyla's complaints about Tristan as a partner is that he doesn't seem to make the effort to understand how she's feeling, and paired with the scenes with Fabienne-as-Leyla and a later scene in which Leyla takes on a new form, does that make Tristan selfish and/or superficial? Does it also say something that Tristan can only explain the multiple scars on Leyla's arm as something that happened before he came into the picture? If something like this process were possible, could most of us actually see what's beneath and inside the external form of someone we know and love when it's inside a completely different shell?

The film doesn't have answers, of course, but it explores and examines such questions through the drama, which is thoughtful, intelligent, and performed with considerable skill (All of the actors are quite convincing in playing multiple roles, imitating at least one other co-star's character in recognizable ways). It keeps expanding, too, refusing to settle for one mere set of swaps when Tristan realizes this little experiment isn't for him. The resulting body-swap really puts the main couple's relationship to the test, because we already know the guy is shallow and close-minded to at least some degree.

Skin Deep focuses exclusively on what matters—the characters, the questions presented by this premise, the ways in which the body influences the mind and the mind can be a prisoner to the restrictions of experience. It's all quite thought-provoking, even beyond the scope of this story.

Back to Home

Buy Related Products