The Reflecting Skin

I want you to close your eyes for a moment and picture, if you can, a film that captures the spirit of American Gothic, the famous painting by Grant Wood. Now imagine the near fetishistic fascination with wheat fields swaying in the breeze, as lensed by Terrence Malick, with the horror-stricken awe and fascination with 1950s nostalgia that David Lynch captures in his films. Then, and only then, do you begin to have the vaguest sort of inkling of what kind of movie The Reflecting Skin truly is.

In Anywhere, USA, somewhere in an idealized midwestern United States where everyone lives on a farm and has a deep, dark secret, trouble is afoot. Children are disappearing and then wind up dead days later. Young Seth Dove (Jeremy Cooper) thinks it’s the work of his neighbor, Dolphin Blue (Lindsay Duncan), who he believes may be a vampire, draining young boys of their life force to keep her alive.

The local law enforcement, including a sheriff who lost a hand, eye, and half an ear in the line of duty to various animals, believes it’s Seth’s own father. His father can’t live with the accusation, false as it may be, and the stain against his reputation, or potentially being killed for crimes he didn’t commit, and immolates himself using a gas pump and a book of matches. After his death and funeral, Seth’s brother Cameron (Viggo Mortensen) comes back home to take care of the family during their time of crisis. He’s a good man but damaged from his tour of duty in the Pacific Theater of Operations in WWII, having witnessed one island after another of human misery. He’s quick to outbursts and rash decisions. He begins an affair with Dolphin and Seth believes she’s draining him, too, the way he believes she drained the young boys who wound up dead.

Seth finds a fetus in a barn, buried and wrapped in newspaper. The film never says who or where it came from, but Seth believes it’s an angel. He takes it home and talks to it, befriends it. If all this sounds like a lot to take in, it is. But I never found it to be exploitative. I referenced David Lynch before, but it really does feel similar to Blue Velvet, in which very real horrors—just, unimaginable horrors that happen every day on this planet—are contrasted with a dreamy slice of America that only exists in popular culture. The façade isn’t the horrors of stillborn children, it’s the picture-perfect happiness that’s the illusion.

Director Philip Ridley eschews a lot of narrative rules in favor of a plot that progresses organically and unpredictably, based on the whims of its characters. In a way, Ridley feels like an observer, allowing his plot to unfold based on what Seth, Cameron, or Dolphin decide to do next. All damaged souls, they often do things that make us shift uncomfortably, or wince in bemusement, so strange is their behavior… but, sadly, is also relatable to a degree. We’ve all craved destruction for the sake of destruction, for no other reason than it makes us feel better to see something destroyed.

Near the end, when Seth lets out a blood-curdling cry, emptying everything of himself into a void, it’s a wonderful, heartbreaking moment because he realizes, as we all do at some point in our lives, that there are no monsters. Only humans. And humanity itself can be unspeakably monstrous.

Vital Disc Stats: The Blu-ray
Film Movement brings The Reflecting Skin to Blu-ray in a single-disc release housed in a standard case. Included is a 20-page booklet with a short note from director Philip Ridley regarding the video transfer for this release, and writing from Travis Crawford and Heather Hyche.

In The Reflecting Skin, sunlight is treated with fear and oppression, the way we fear the dark in any other story of horror, highlighting Seth's fear of his neighbor being a vampire in disguise. And while The Reflecting Skin isn’t outright horror (it defies easy classification), it toes the line. The muted sepia tones, contrasted with the nearly nuclear gleam of sunlight, give the film a unique look, one that had a difficult history on home video. In a quick blurb in the booklet that accompanies the film’s release on Blu-ray, the director talks a bit about previous releases looking a bit off, or not having the correct color timing… until now. Presented in 1080p high-definition video, it is free of dirt and debris, with vibrant colors in the blue of the sky and the red of blood. The rest is bathed in harsh, unforgiving sunlight in gold, yellows and amber. Meanwhile, the select few scenes that take place at night are comforting, calm and soothing. Dick Pope’s cinematography is meticulous in colorization and in the way houses are symmetrically framed to get it that “American Gothic” feel.

Only one sound mix is available for the Blu-ray release of The Reflecting Skin, which is 2.0 LPCM stereo. This will be a front-only mix on the soundstage, but it’s mixed very well. Dialogue comes through clear and favored, while the classical, symphonic and stringed score from Nick Bicat swells in all the right places. Ambient effects add a richness to the atmosphere, like buzzing insects, the rumbling motor of a car far off in the distance or a wind gently blowing as stalks of wheat sway in it. NOTE: The website and other details list that the film’s audio mix is encoded in DTS-HD MA, but after testing it on a few different players and systems, it repeatedly told me that it was actually LPCM. No complaints, the mix was very well-balanced, I just want to correct this bit of information.

Outside of a trailer for the film, and other similar titles released by Film Movement, there are really only two special features to be found on the disc: A making-of and an audio commentary by the writer/direct Philip Ridley. While small in number, these are decent features, along with an incredible video transfer and a booklet included within.

• Audio Commentary – Writer/director Philip Ridley
• Angles & Atom Bombs: The Making of The Reflecting Skin (HD 43:42)
• Trailers
• Booklet – Containing writing from Philip Ridley, Travis Crawford and Heather Hyche.

The Reflecting Skin is a challenging film… which is pretentious critic-speak for a movie that not everyone is going to like. It explores some very dark themes and, in its exploration, comes up with some disturbing answers about humanity as a whole. It doesn’t wallow in misery, though, and seems genuinely fascinated with its subject. It’s closer to a work of art than a traditional narrative film. Folks who like it will likely love it. Everyone else may want to take a hot shower. No matter how you feel about the film itself, Film Movement’s work is truly exceptional, boasting a terrific video transfer, great sound, and some decent supplements. The Reflecting Skin on Blu-ray is Recommended, for film buffs and the artistically curious alike.