In many instances, this phenomenon does a quiet disservice to the original creative works. Selective digital editing and out-of-context sharing inevitably strip away deeper thematic meanings, reducing complex storytelling to a single modular tile in the ever-expanding mosaic of online discourse.
Jonathan Glazer’s 2014 psychological science-fiction film Under the Skin stands as a prime example of this cultural flattening. Widely recognized by critics as one of the most chilling and unsettling motion pictures of the twenty-first century, the film has consistently earned spots on numerous prestigious "best films of the century" lists and garnered critical acclaim worldwide. Yet, within mainstream internet culture, it is primarily remembered and referenced because its lead star, Scarlett Johansson, spends a significant portion of the runtime in various states of undress. Consequently, while brief, out-of-context clips and imagery from Under the Skin circulate widely across the web, a relatively small percentage of internet users have actually experienced the film in its entirety.
Fortunately, overcoming that barrier is now easier than ever. Under the Skin is currently available to stream for free across multiple digital platforms, granting contemporary audiences a seamless opportunity to witness the entire cinematic journey for themselves without a paid subscription.
What is Under the Skin about?
In Under the Skin, Scarlett Johansson portrays an unnamed, enigmatic woman who traverses the gloomy, atmospheric landscapes of Scotland, explicitly targeting the lost, isolated, and vulnerable inhabitants of urban environments. When she successfully identifies a prospective victim, she uses a seductive facade to lure them to an isolated, seemingly abandoned location, where they vanish entirely from the world.
For those familiar with Michel Faber’s 2000 novel of the same name, upon which the film is loosely based, the narrative premise carries far less ambiguity. In the original text, the protagonist—named Isserley—serves as a calculated piece of bait within a grim extraterrestrial operation, abducting human beings so they can be processed and sold as an expensive, exotic delicacy for an alien civilization light-years away.
Conversely, the cinematic adaptation directed by Jonathan Glazer takes a far more impressionistic, Lynchian approach, resulting in an ambiguous narrative that invites a wide spectrum of critical interpretations. On a surface level, the film functions almost as an arthouse deconstruction or high-concept remake of traditional sci-fi thrillers like Species, featuring a female protagonist whose sole apparent directive is to systematically eliminate human targets who will not be immediately missed by society. There are no frantic government agents, skeptical law enforcement officers, or conspiracy theorists to neatly explain the underlying mechanics of the plot; the entirety of the exposition provided to the audience comes directly from Johansson’s enigmatic character, and that information is sparse at best.
Delving deeper into its thematic layers, the film transforms into a surreal exploration of an extraterrestrial entity experiencing the foundational stages of human existence, a stark cultural commentary on modern society, or an extended, unsettling metaphor for human sexuality and desire. Throughout the narrative, Johansson’s character frequently displays a detached, almost hypnotic fascination with the most mundane elements of her terrestrial environment, ranging from crawling ants and everyday passersby to the mechanics of her own physical form. Even when she is actively leading unsuspecting men to their gruesome demises, her demeanor lacks any sense of malice or personal vindication; the acts are executed with a chilling, clinical routine, as though she is merely fulfilling a biological or logistical necessity.
This pervasive sense of the impersonal extends deeply into the movie’s overarching aesthetic and directorial style. The film maintains an intentional, agonizing silence for nearly fourteen minutes before any character speaks a single word aloud, with Mica Levi’s discordant, avant-garde musical score frequently replacing traditional dialogue and exposition. Furthermore, many of the most striking sequences were filmed using hidden, concealed cameras capturing spontaneous reactions from everyday people on the streets, and the vast majority of the supporting cast consists of amateur actors and newcomers rather than seasoned professionals. Combined, these deliberate production choices make Under the Skin feel less like a conventional narrative thriller and more like an observational, alien documentary broadcast from an alternate reality.
It is hardly surprising that the film initially struggled at the box office and remained relatively obscure outside of cinephile circles. Under the Skin feels profoundly unsettling and disorienting almost from its opening frames, favoring prolonged still shots and deliberate pacing that evoke the atmosphere of an uncompromising experimental art project. Yet, for viewers willing to surrender to its hypnotic rhythm, the film leaves an indelible impression, featuring visual compositions and sequences that linger in the mind long after the credits roll.
In retrospect, Under the Skin can also be viewed as the concluding chapter of an unofficial trilogy of films starring Scarlett Johansson, all of which toyed directly with her public persona and celebrity status. At the time of its release, Johansson had been working in the film industry since childhood, transitioning into a household name as a teenager following her breakout performance in Sofia Coppola’s Lost in Translation, and was freshly cemented as a global megastar through her role as Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow in Marvel Studios’ massive blockbuster The Avengers.
Just prior to Under the Skin, Johansson starred in Spike Jonze’s 2014 romance Her, lending her voice to Samantha, an advanced, artificial intelligence operating system that functions as a literal emotional and psychological commodity for its user. She followed that performance with Luc Besson’s 2014 action sci-fi film Lucy, in which her titular character evolves from a marginalized and abused courier into an all-powerful, omnipresent entity transcending human limitations. Under the Skin completes this thematic trio by casting Johansson as a predatory entity hidden in plain sight—operating like a trapdoor spider disguised in the skin of a global icon.
All three projects presented unconventional, high-risk casting choices for an actor operating at the absolute peak of her mainstream blockbuster fame, and each functions as a sharp, self-aware commentary on the very nature of modern celebrity. Together, they form what could be described as Johansson’s informal product trilogy: exploring the concept of the performer not merely as an artist, but as an engineered image presented to the public, complete with hidden complexities beneath the surface.
Under the Skin is now streaming for free on Tubi, Pluto TV, the Roku Channel, Plex, Fandango, and Xumo Play, and is also available to subscribers on Netflix.
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