Within the sub-genre of body-swap films, more often than not, the ‘swaps’ (themselves usually occurring after some mythical hoopla, the fundamentals of their existence exposited to audiences cheaply) are often used to illustrate the same idea: the phrase “walk a mile in someone else’s shoes”. The term indicates an idea of perspective; having gone through whatever shenanigans the body-swap film has put them through, the swapped parties usually come out having understood the other perspective. However, in Alex Schaad’s SKIN DEEP, there’s a palpable lack of understanding between the swapped parties, rendering the whole ordeal a rote analogy for body dysmorphia.
Arriving on a mysterious island of their own volition, manic depressive Leyla (Mala Emde) and placid boyfriend Tristan (Jonas Dassler) find themselves in a commune led by Leyla’s friend Stella (Edgar Selge) and her father’s partner Roman (Thomas Wodianka). However, the mind of Stella is no longer in her own body and is instead trapped inside her father’s. In a distressing cold open, we’re shown that her father’s mind died of an aneurysm while in Stella’s body (why remains unexplored), rendering them unable to switch back. No time is wasted on the minutiae of the swap’s mechanics: a form of crushed-up drug, engineered perhaps by Stella’s brain scientist father and ingested before a ritualistic cleansing.
The concept peddled within the cult-like island is the chance for couples to switch bodies with another couple. For two weeks, with the caveat that anyone within the quartet can ‘withdraw’ from the process at any time, they get the chance to work through whatever they need to. For Leyla and Tristan, it’s to help work through their relationship problems stemming from ex-dancer Leyla’s depression, where she’s no longer dancing but drowning – literally, in her ravishingly shot dreams – in her inability to find happiness. They switch bodies with fellow couple Fabienne (Maryam Zaree) – an ex of Roman’s – and oafish brute Mo (Dimitirij Schaad). For the Mo and Fabienne partnership, their motivations differ. While Fabienne wants to understand her partner, Mo believes this will be a sex-fuelled two-week orgy, crudely telling Tristan that he should “clean the pipe” every day he’s in Mo’s body. This level is about as far as Schaad takes the motivations of his characters, with their flaccid characterisation deemed superfluous by the third act and disappearing entirely from the picture.
“Schaad faces a distinct problem when discussing gender and sexual fluidity, as each element of an idea is presented while nothing is fleshed out. Schaad seems to want to speak on body dysmorphia, but by swapping bodies, he’s failing to navigate what it means for both parties.”
Schaad faces a distinct problem when discussing gender and sexual fluidity, as each element of an idea is presented while nothing is fleshed out. Schaad seems to want to speak on body dysmorphia, but by swapping bodies, he’s failing to navigate what it means for both parties. There is no second party for people with body dysmorphia; Schaad posits that they would be happier outside their body while confining others to it. Sure, Leyla is happier and full of life when outside of her own confining shell, which would indicate her body is the problem, but Tristan isn’t satisfied with the experiment. So when Tristan decides to end the experience quickly after they are sexually assaulted, Leyla is bitter over it and is angry to be back in her own body. It comes across as selfish rather than desperation to be out of her body once again. Schaad also has the film feel indifferent to the assault experienced by someone outside their own body, as it’s seemingly played for laughs. There are also some prickly connotations in showing a body-swapped individual committing assault.
For all the thorny discussion it wants to make, the characters remain tone-deaf to one another throughout. There’s no understanding between them all, a particular problem for a body-swap film. However, an interesting point is made during the characters’ swap: Tristan notes that Mo is going deaf, which is why he’s always so loud. It’s one of the few times another perspective is brought up – a small note is made about Mo’s belly in contrast to Tristan’s slim physique – but it’s thrown away far too quickly as it returns to a flat commentary on dysmorphia.
“…muddled logic indicates the script cannot provide anything beyond superficial concepts.”
The film has elements that would work more effectively in the context of clinical depression. For instance, when occupying Leyla’s body, someone experiences her depression. While dysmorphia tends to focus on the flaws of the body, the film frequently speaks about the mind, with next to no visual language contributing to depicting any real-world experience of dysmorphia. When Schaad introduces Roman’s story, the script proposes that he got clean from drugs and alcohol by switching bodies with Stella’s father. It’s an intriguing idea, but audiences are left perplexed about how that would work. If the film proposes addiction as only mental, did Roman continue craving? This muddled logic indicates the script cannot provide anything beyond superficial concepts.
The film is handsomely shot, wearing its MIDSOMMAR inspirations on its sleeve and stunning with the dreamscapes that Leyla enters. However, there’s an unfortunate scarcity of finesse to this analogy. SKIN DEEP has high ambitions but is too unfocused, and a lack of attention in navigating the finer elements of body dysmorphia squanders the film’s intriguing premise.