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Surgeon Robert Ledgard is successful in cultivating artificial skin burns and insect bites resistant, yet he said he has been tested on mice, which he called 'GAL'. He presented his results in a medical symposium, but he was forbidden to continue his studies.
These are questions one is left with -- and that's not an entirely satisfying feeling. Yet it's hard not to be drawn into the story, and even more, into the gorgeous storytelling.
November 04, 2011
Deadspin
This is a lush, deeply pleasurable film to experience on a sensory level; Almodovar couldn't produce a boring frame if he left the lens cap on.
In Almodovar's world, the flesh is deception, the comedy dark, the sex weird and the tears real; this time, however, the director just wasn't able to pull off all of these elements.
There are few filmmakers -- David Lynch comes to mind, Woody Allen -- who have a completely unique way of imprinting a film. Nobody but Pedro Almodóvar could have made The Skin I Live In. And that's high compliment.
Despite the typically invigorating sense of line and framing, The Skin I Live In withholds the director's customary satisfactions and affirmations. The result is a saga of obsession that, in its saturnine undertone, maintains a hard-to-enjoy integrity.