Movie Review: Dans Ma Peau

I'm a big fan of gore/violence in movies. No joke. While I may cringe, or hide in my hoodie, generally it's in mock-horror. In actuality, I find gratuitous carnage entertaining, even satisfying.

However, even I have my limits and "Dans Ma Peau (In My Skin)" (2002) is the first film I've seen in a long time that went beyond them.

"Dans Ma Peau" is about a woman named Esther (played by Marina de Van) who lives an ostensibly normal life, complete with a patient, understanding boyfriend and a moderately successful career. Her choice in friends is a bit off, but otherwise, she's doing alright. But there's something amiss, some sense of dissatisfaction, or perhaps ennui, as evidenced by her impulsive 'escape' from a work party her friend drags her to. While exploring a construction site (in the dark, by the way), she trips and gashes open her leg. We're to believe that she fails to notice the cavernous wound, until several hours later when she finally has to go to the bathroom. Instead of rushing to the hospital, she goes out for drinks.

The accident inspires a sort of fascination in Esther that leads her to self-mutilation via box-cutters, hinges, and steak knifes, and culminates in self-cannibalism. At one point, she tans a strip of her own flesh out of a sort of perverse sentimentalism.

The movie itself is an interesting look at mortality and vanity, catharsis and repression, belonging and alienation, pain, love, etc., etc., blah blah blah. And perhaps it would've been more tolerable with a different leading lady, but Maria de Van was, I guess, intent on being involved with every facet of the film (she also wrote and directed it.) Short of being difficult to look at, de Van seems like a bad character actor.

I will say this for the movie: it's disturbing enough to watch a woman, supine on a cheap hotel floor, sawing chunks out of her thigh, blood dripping all over her face. Or to see her gnaw on her arm, then pause, pull a nugget of her own skin from between her teeth, look at it... THEN PUT IT BACK IN HER MOUTH AND RESUME CHEWING. But de Van shows us all of this without offering us the relief of music. It's just her, her flesh, the viewer, and the sounds of self-mutilation. It's an uncomfortable silence. It adds an intensity that I can't recall experiencing in any other movie I've recently watched. And I watch a lot of movies. I felt the need to ask Louise to hug my head at one point, because tensing up in the fetal position wasn't enough. Ryan described the movie as inciting his Cremasteric Reflex. Louise actually left the room.

It was horrifying. But not the kind of horrifying that leaves you gratified, feeling like your suffering was justified, because there's no real payoff. In the end, I just kind of felt like I'd been held at Guantanamo for eight years, just for Googling "World Trade Center."

My body hurts just thinking about it.

The Right Side.

Click Here to See Active Image

Stumbled across this via What an Errant Knave Knows, and found it interesting. The active image turns. If you see it as turning clockwise, you're using the right side of your brain. If you see it turning counterclockwise, you're using your left side. It is possible to be able to see it turning both ways, but uncommon.

According to a study at Yale University, if you can see it both ways your IQ is above 160. Which makes you a genius. Only 14% of the US population can see her move both ways.



I can only see her turn clockwise...

[UPDATE: Nevermind. It's all a load of crap.]

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On a lighter note, here're three of a thousand and one images I'd like on t-shirts. Part of Randy Reddig's design project "I Like Your Face," via Shaderlab:

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I realize that the title of this post is squandered on a non-political entry. To remedy this, I will suggest that everyone read "Sarah Palin vs. 'Sarah Palin'" by Mo Rocca. It's a smart, insightful article about how Tina Fey's characterization of Palin on SNL differs from all other political impersonations, in that Fey's "Sarah Palin" "may very well end up defining a major political figure before that figure has defined herself."

Also, Mo Rocca is incredibly attractive.

And now, I must play something, some music other than what I'm listening to in my head, wherein "Captain Jack" by Billy Joel is on repeat. While I love the Billy Joel, I'm not a huge fan of that song.

The Shit I'm Listening to This Week.

[Update: Because Ryan decided to one-up me and post a Mixwit of his own, complete with commentary, on URFCKD, I've decided to add commentary to my track listing. Here it is.]

1. "Red Apples"-Cat Power
So, the other day I was covering a radio show over at KBGA, and had one of those moments where I realized I only had 20 seconds or so to pick the next track. Frenzied, I threw on Bill Callahan ("A Man Needs a Woman or a Man to Be a Man"). The thing about Bill Callahan is, I love him, but I every time I listen to him, I remember that I would rather be listening to Chan Marshall singing Bill Callahan's songs. So, naturally, the next track was "Red Apples," which led to me listening to "Red Apples" on repeat for the rest of the afternoon. It's not new. It's not really exciting. But it's amazing, and heart-wrenching, and worth listening to again and again.
2. "Song No. 6"-Ane Brun
I have a thing for Scandinavian pop musicians. I love ABBA, even after I learned this love gives John McCain and I some common ground. Lykke Li is on my short-list for my "Best of '08" selection, and the new (or new-ish) albums from Tobias Froberg, El Perro del Mar, and Peter, Bjorn and John have all had their turn this year as my "Most Played Album for the Week." Ane Brun is no exception. While this isn't my favorite song from her new album, I think it fits nicely between Cat Power and Winterpills. The album is eerie and fun, all at the same time.
3. "Broken Arm"-Winterpills
Winterpills' Myspace describes them as sounding like "four weeks of rain, two days of sun, and the voice of someone you thought you had lost forever." I think they sound like drinking coffee and surfing the web, while listening to music on cheap headphones and wishing you were smoking. I like them.
4. "Skinny Love"-Bon Iver
Fuck. Me. I love this album. I love this song. I can't stop listening to it.
5. "Whiskey Tango"-Tanya Donnelly
Also played this one on the radio the other day. I've never heard of Tanya Donnelly, but Louise promised me it was good. Generally, though, I like anything that mentions whiskey.
6. "No One Does It Like You"-Department of Eagles
Department of Eagles makes me wish it was summer. There is something bizarre about this album, but I can't put my finger on it... It's bright and dark, bouncy and haunting, summer-y and serious all at once. It's like a fucking carnival. There's a pretty dead-on review of the album here.
7. "Working & Drinking"-Jared Mees
I'm tired of adding commentary...
8. "Ampersand"-Amanda Palmer
Lyrically, I think this is an amazing song. "I'm not going to live my life on one side of an ampersand"? Brilliant. Palmer is a master of blunt, to the point lyrics that can be simultaneously jarring and empowering. Plus, she's a kick-ass pianist, and her vocals are exactly in my range, which facilitates singing along. Loudly. On an unrelated note, Palmer occasionally is a living statue ("The Eight Foot Bride", specifically), which is a life-long dream of mine, and has worked with Neil Gaiman (whom I want to adopt me), so she gets extra points for being awesome.
9. "Colors"- Portugal, the Man
The more I listen to this album, the more impressed I am. It's growing on me like a fungus on a dead tree.
10. "Nothing Can Come Between Us"-Obi Best
Space-y and candyesque. Good filler.
11. "Atlas"-Battles
I Have Battles in My Life. Fucking Eric turned Ryan and I onto Battles, and now Battles is the soundtrack to our lives.
12. "Little Bit"-Lykke Li
See my comments on Ane Brun. I will never get sick of this song. "I could be a little bit in love with you, but only if you're a little but in love with me." Oh, Lykke Li: I'm a little bit obsessed with you. And you're a little bit obsessed with Bon Iver. So we could be very happy together.

13. "Shattered"-The Trucks
The Trucks recently announced that they are disbanding to pursue individual interests. This is my version of their swan song.
14. "The Second Line"-Clinic
Ok, I've been listening to Clinic's new album a lot lately, but haven't really listened to their older stuff (despite having four of their albums). I'm trying to remedy this.
15. "23 Years Too Late"-Wire
Wire is old news, but it's new to me. I chose the edited version of this song, because the original is like, an hour long.

Household Wildlife in Suburban Missoula.

Black Widow (Latrodectus variolus )

Can be found throughout the United States. Preys on other insects by catching and wrapping them in their webs, "then bites and envenoms its prey. The venom takes about ten minutes to take effect; in the meantime, the prey is held tightly by the spider. When movements of the prey cease, digestive enzymes are released into the wound. The black widow spider then carries its prey back to its retreat before feeding."

Extremely potent venom.

Recently sighted on my windowsill, 5:00 am.



Unannounced Guests (Randomus Unwelcomus)

Can be found throughout the world. Typically arrives at one's door with neither invitation nor warning, occasionally after years of non-communication. Often searching for the former residents of one's house. More often than not, arrives with an open liquor bottle and lit cigarette in hand, drunk, and wanting to 'catch-up.'

Dangerously verbose.

Recently sighted at my door, 3:12 am.



Plumber's Snake (Toiletus Augerus)

This flexible auger (used to remove clogs in plumbing that cannot be loosened with a plunger) inhabits domiciles with frequent plumbing problems. Typically works like a corkscrew to break up clogs in plumbing.

Occasionally gets itself turned around and stuck in the siphon of the toilet bowl.

Recently sighted corkscrewed (and very, very stuck) in my toilet bowl, 11:15 pm last night.

Yeah.

Five by Five.

New house. Stocked kitchen. Job. Potential therapy dog, the third member of The First Wives' Club. Student loans and stimulus check on the way. Internet I can scam. Camel Filters. Eddie Izzard. School: an acceptable excuse for skipping social events. The Sleep Machine I've built on the floor. Falling asleep to Eddie Izzard, Eugene Mirman, Bill Hicks and/or Patton Oswalt. Questionable Content. Having a yard. Diet Coke. Vitamins. Vitamin Water. Showering. Shaving my legs. Clean unmentionables. And clean socks. "Ghostbusters II." The stack of vintage suitcases in the corner. Piles of books. Surrounding myself with piles of books. Storage space. Knowing that a Wii is in my near future. Also knowing that my N64 will soon be back in business, and with it, "Zelda: Ocarina of Time." Being over the bullshit. Being above the bullshit. Being part of a three-typewriter-two-record-player household. Having a bazillion wine glasses. Doing dishes. Writing, near constantly, be it in Microsoft Word or the yellow legal pad I've been toting around (even if I'm not posting any of it online). The ideas. Finding my muse. Rain. An August that isn't like being trapped in a smokehouse. The Beach. "Oh! You Pretty Things" on repeat. Spray paint. Dancing like an idiot to ABBA. Potential. Not being a freshman. Distance. Perspective. Hindsight. Old postcards, letters and souvenirs. Those memories that make me laugh out loud, smile to myself. Late night Walmart trips (even if Walmart sucks.) Vinyl. Yes, of course, singing in the shower. Singing all the time. Tips. Q=tips are nice, too. Coffee in the morning. Light breeze. Sleeping under a half dozen blankets. Sleeping in. Waking up happy. Not being stressed out. Smit. The Olympics. Things getting better, just like I've been saying they would. Getting inked on Sunday. Giraffes. Wayfarers. Kissing and handcuffs. Not doing jack-shit, and feeling ok about it. Painting. Not being addled by substances. Did I mention the dog?

Life is absurd, but totally worth it.

Chaos In Action.

A few years ago, my mom's family established a new tradition: when the last weekend of July rolls around, every Cranford (or nee Cranford descendant) within an 800-mile radius treks to Tongue River, WY for a family reunion-type event masquerading as a "fun-filled weekend chock-full of water sports, near-death experiences and BBQs."

This is all well and good. Except there are a shit-load--and I do mean a shit-load-- of Cranfords within said radius. And I understand the "The More, The Merrier" philosophy that everyone I'm related to seems to buy into, but it's all just a little... well... ridiculous.

To put things in perspective, I present:

An itemized list of persons and equipment present this year.



[Note: My youngest brother, my grandmother, my grandfather and his wife, my aunt and her husband, 7 of my cousins, and my first cousin once removed were in absentia, so it wasn't as crowded as it could have been.]


I'm not even going to try and list the number of bags of chips, hot dogs or Diet Cokes consumed. Or the number of sunglasses and shoes lost, shirts ripped, or bruises acquired. Or the number of fights over whose turn it was to ride the Sea-Doo. Or the number of times I had to steal a Sea-Doo or the four-wheeler to sneak away to smoke. Or the number of times I screamed "SON OF A BITCH!" in response to being bitten by a fucking horse fly. Or how many times I had to explain my tattoos. Or the number of Nurofen I threw back in an attempt to make the experience tolerable (I will say this for my mom though: she goes to Australia and brings me back Nurofen, which is an over-the-counter/non-prescription drug there, as a souvenir. Who else can say their mom brings them codeine as a present? Who?).


When all's said and done though, the trip served its purpose. I went because I was burned out on Missoula and needed a break. But after three days with my entire family, I'm not only happy to be back in Missoula: I am fucking excited.