Blow Yr Mind / "Heroes"

Promo poster, 2014

When I reviewed Under the Skin in March I said that much as I bought into the idea that Scarlett Johansson is a sex symbol, I wouldn't see a film with her simply on that basis. Case in point - I haven't seen any of her Marvel appearances as the Black Widow, because the omnipresent comic book films do nothing for me. I nearly passed on seeing Batman Begins in 2005 for that reason. Lucy genuinely interested me because it looked like a strong female-led action film from noted director Luc Besson. I love Besson's The Fifth Element and I increasingly like Ms. Johansson's work (perhaps save for the Israel controversy). Indeed, I've been having something of a Scarlett year and Lucy made three after watching Don Jon, and intend to continue with Her at some point. So it was that I decided to repeat my little day out in March with a strong sense of déjà vu. Not only was I riding the train to see another 'ScarJo' (urgh) film at Cineworld, I was also in a new pair of Doc Martens - replacing the pair I broke-in seeing Under The Skin. I also didn't have a date again, so that's too many coincidences.

Spoilers, duh

Frigid Spring

El juicio de Paris, Enrique de Simonet, 1904

It's a title that works on so many levels. After writing the longest string of words I've ever put together, well beyond my Buffy retrospective and edging out my criticism of Star Trek Into Damnation, part one of my Scarlett Johansson indulgence left me a bit listless. And more than a little irritated that the review's been on the front page for exactly two months and garnered precisely one view - I feel like Rivers Cuomo after Pinkerton, which I haven't heard, or Bill Murray after The Razor's Edge, which I haven't seen. Er, point made. Having readers might help. All I need is a little discourage, or perhaps as with Donnie Darko over a decade ago I'm waiting for other people to discover it so that I can refresh the tree of smugness with the blood of latecomers. I haven't been as single-minded about a film since I saw Battle Royale - I've got the Under The Skin soundtrack on vinyl, a promo ad cut out of The Guardian I read on the day I saw it, and my DVD pre-order date stamped over a month ago. Despite that, I'm still far more restrained than the individual on IMDB who declared of Ms Johansson that he would happily "drink her bathwater". People like that make fans look like obsessives and ruin my chances of ever having children with her. It's spring after all - a time of fertility and flourishing of the quick.

Human Flesh is Porky Meat (Hee Hee Hee Hee)

Under The Skin, US poster, 2014

I'm not one for hype. I'm not one for opening day screenings. And I'm on holiday, so I'm not really one for getting out of bed. Despite that, I've been waiting several months now for the release of Under The Skin. The Guardian has until recently been choked (non-erotically) with articles about Lars Von Trier's magnus trollus Nymphomaniac to the expense of every other film. With that finally out of the way I saw the low-key promotion for Under The Skin begin in the run-up to a March 14th general release. Still, why so interested? Well, my interest was piqued over two years ago when I heard parts of the film were being shot in the area. And, most obviously and honestly, it's Scarlett Johansson. Not that I would see any old tripe just cause she's in it. Undeniably, though, she is a sex symbol - and I don't say that often. I once got into a minor brawl with a friend at the age of thirteen when I dared to suggest Britney Spears was unattractive. I was engaged in a daydream two weeks ago about meeting Scarlett on set via certain connections, although I realised my connection didn't extend over that boundary line. Ahem. Nonetheless, I've always been into sci-fi cinema beyond the space-opera of Star Wars and what little I'd heard of the premise intrigued me.

Spoilers for Under The Skin inbound after several paragraphs of travelogue twaddle.