Study of Body Image in the film The Skin I Live In

Kratika Joshi

Student Number: 22316322

Course Name: Cinema Now: Current Trends in Contemporary Film

April 24, 2023

The Skin I Live In is a 2011 Spanish film that delves into the complicated and often disturbing

relationship between power, abuse, and revenge. Directed by Pedro Almodóvar and adapted

from the book Mygale, written by Pedro Almodóvar and Augustin Almodóvar, this film

follows the story of Vera, a young woman who is imprisoned in a large mansion by a doctor

who experiments on her to create indestructible skin that still feels like skin. Vivian

Sobchack’s insights provide a useful framework for analyzing the film's themes and motifs.

She argues that our bodies have become increasingly distanced and alienated in contemporary

society, with a growing emphasis on viewing them as resources to be seen, managed, and

mastered. Sobchack’s book on the body as a home and the objectification of the body are key

concepts that inform the essay's discussion of the film's portrayal of bodies and identities as

resources that become separated from the self. Through the use of extreme violence, spaces,

and art, The Skin I Live In exemplifies the distancing of the body and its transformation into

an object. This essay aims to explore these themes and the film's use of cinematic techniques

to portray the body as a resource and the role of the spectator in viewing these bodies.

The film opens in the El Cigarral and transitions to a barred window where we see a

blurred vision of a woman, then a camera fitted inside her room, and then a woman, who at

first seemed to be fully naked, but is wearing a skin-tight stocking covering her whole body

excluding the face. In a rather chaotic and abstract manner, she tears pieces from the fabric

that closely resembles the skin she is wearing and affixes them to a mannequin's head. She

then selects one of the torn dresses from her wardrobe, wears it and cuts a piece of the fabric.

This opening scene can be interpreted as a captive's refusal to accept the body and image that

has been imposed on them. It depicts Vera's self-mutilation as a means of assuming control of

her own skin. The opening scene is pivotal in comprehending Vera's attitude towards the body

that she possesses or has been assigned, as well as her response to it.

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 Vera's struggle and persistence to dominate her body and skin align with Jean Baudrillard's

statement, as cited by Sobchack, “So it is not: I exist, I am here! but rather: I am visible, I am

an image—look! look! This is not even narcissism, merely an extraversion without depth, a

sort of self-promoting ingenuousness whereby everyone becomes the manager of their own

appearance.”1. Although Jean and Sobchack reference this idea in the context of a

performance that contemporary society imposes on individuals, in this case, Vera can be

viewed as a product of modern society, who has been disfigured and scrutinized and strives to

take charge of her body and skin through her artistic expression. This is Vera’s struggle and

persistence to become the controller of the body and skin. Tarja Laine in her article describes

Vera’s actions as a way to abandon the outer reality forced upon her, and to give expression to

her traumatic inner reality.’2 Therefore, through Sobchack's notion of contemporary society

rendering bodies manageable, Vera utilizes this to keep in touch with and create her own

body, as Vicente, which is hers to manage.

The film incorporates several reproductions of significant artworks, including Venus of

Urbino (1538) and Venus and Music (1547) by Titan, as well as Dionisios encuentra a

Ariadna en Naxos (2008) by Guillermo Perez Villalta. In the film, Dr Robert Ledgard

perceives Vera as his masterpiece, a work of art that he endeavours to perfect continuously.

The presence of these paintings in the film is highly deliberate on the part of Almodóvar, as

shown by the comparison of Figure 1 and Figure 2. It is evident that Almodóvar deliberately

1
Sobchack, Vivian Carol. “In Any Body Home?” in Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving Image
Culture. Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving Image Culture (Berkeley: University of California
Press. P.181)

2
Laine, T. (2014) 'Art as a guaranty of sanity: The Skin I Live In', (Alphaville: Journal of Film and
Screen Media, 7, pp. 24–38. https://doi.org/10.33178/alpha.7.02.)

2
portrays Dr Robert as someone who gazes at his work of art in a lustful manner. Vera is

depicted as Venus, reclining on her bed, purposefully avoiding the lecherous gaze.

Figure 1. Venus and Musician

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Figure 2. Dr Robert gazing at Vera the same way the Musician gazes at Venus.

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 Figure 3. Bacchus and Ariadne by Guido Reni (1619-1620)

Figure 6 is an artwork that draws inspiration from the tale of Dionysus and Ariadne

depicted in Figure 3, where Dionysus encounters Ariadne while she is sleeping, and the

narrative suggests that he fell in love with her while she was unconscious. The theme of

women being objectified and viewed without agency over their bodies is carried forward in

both figures. In Figure 7, Dr Robert is shown gazing at Vera's nude body, which bears a

striking resemblance to the painting he stands before in Figure 6. The camera lingers on

Vera's unclothed body, emphasizing the effect of Robert's gaze, and implicating the viewer in

this gaze.

When discussing the participation of the audience in the gaze, an important moment

occurs in the film as Ledgard is about to leave Vera’s room when she talks about ‘living as

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equals’ Vera runs up to Ledgard and tells him, breaking the fourth wall looking straight into

the camera saying, “I know you look at me”, This is exemplified in the scene where Ledgard

is about to leave Vera's room after discussing the concept of "living as equals," and Vera

confronts him, directly addressing the camera and stating, "I know you look at me." This

gesture by Vera serves to make the audience aware that they too are participating in Ledgard's

exploitation of her body. Almodóvar employs this technique intentionally to bring attention to

the fact that the audience is actively participating in the mistreatment of one human being by

another for their own gratification and are using Vera as a mere object. Ledgard's subsequent

reaction to being caught looking at Vera in this scene, as depicted in Figure 5, further

underscores the self-awareness that Almodóvar seeks to bring to the audience's attention. In

this way, Almodóvar's use of breaking the fourth wall serves as a powerful device to

implicate the audience in the film's commentary on the exploitation of vulnerable individuals.

Figure 4. Vera breaks the fourth wall

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 Figure 5. Ledgard breaks the fourth wall

In addition, before the scene mentioned above, Ledgard sees Vera’s nude body as in Figure

7, and assuming that Vera is asleep, Dr Robert proceeds to retrieve his cigar box and enters

her room, only to find that she has fainted due to self-injury. This event becomes another

manifestation of Vera's self-mutilation, which she employs as a means of gaining control over

her own body. This act can be interpreted as Vera's rejection of the role of the passive

onlooker, instead asserting her autonomy and refusing to submit to Dr Robert's desires.

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Figure 6. Dionisios encuentra a Ariadna en Naxo

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 Figure 7. Dr Robert gazes at “sleeping” Vera

Through Sobchack’s argument on the tendency of women to ‘inhabit space tentatively, in a

structure of self-contradiction that is inhibiting and self-distancing’, 3 the film serves a

purpose in highlighting the complex relationship between the body and space, with the use of

these paintings. This representation reinforces the notion that women's bodies are frequently

objectified and subject to control, rather than being active agents with the agency over their

own lives. Regrettably, the women in the film do not experience any joy as they are merely

used for the gratification of the male characters. The four female characters in the film, Vera,

Marilla, Norma, and Gal, have all suffered brutalities at the hands of men in their lives.

After being captured by Ledgard and undergoing a vaginoplasty procedure, Vicente finds

himself bound to a clinic bed. In this vulnerable state, he implores Ledgard for permission to

leave, expressing a desire to return home. This concept of "home" is significant, as it

3
Sobchack, Vivian Carol. “Breadcrumbs in the Forest?” in Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving
Image Culture. Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving Image Culture (Berkeley: University of
California Press. P.33)

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represents the physical body that Vicente had previously inhabited and where his

consciousness had found a sense of comfort and familiarity. And as Sobchack observes the

body acting as a home is where ‘our consciousness “hangs its hat,” where it is concretely

spatialized and lives in a relative state of transparency, unselfconsciousness, and comfort.’, 4

had been stolen from Vicente. He was no more allowed to go back to what he knew as home

and what his consciousness could retreat back to.

In this case, Vera’s body is thus a “prison-house” 5 that confines her physical and emotional

freedom. It is interesting to note that Vera and Gal share similar relationships with their

bodies. Both characters experience a realization of their transformed bodies after examining

their reflections in the mirror. When Marilla recounts the story of Gal's accident to Vera and

the day, she threw herself out of the window, she says, “She didn’t look human”, and Vicente

realizes he is no more Vicente when he sees his body after Ledgard performs vaginoplasty on

him. Sobchack argues that “This corrective is critical to a culture in which vision dominates

our sensory access to the world and in which a discrete and reductive emphasis on visibility

and body image greatly overdetermines our more expansive possibilities for seeing and

making sense of our enworldedness.”6 This is to say that the moment both Vicente and Gal

look at their reflections in the mirror, and don’t see the versions they are used to, or the

versions that they called home, the body then thus turns into a prison and both, perform ways

to get rid of their body.

Norma, the daughter of Ledgard, played a crucial role in Vicente's capture and

transformation into Vera. At a wedding, Norma encountered Vicente and was sexually

4
Sobchack, Vivian Carol. “In Any Body Home?” in Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving Image
Culture. Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving Image Culture (Berkeley: University of California
Press. P.183)
5
Sobchack, Vivian Carol. “In Any Body Home?” in Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving Image
Culture. Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving Image Culture (Berkeley: University of California
Press. P.183)
6
Sobchack, Vivian Carol. “In Any Body Home?” in Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving Image
Culture. Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving Image Culture (Berkeley: University of California
Press. P.187)

10
assaulted by him in the backyard. Norma had suffered traumatic experiences in her youth,

having witnessed her mother's (Gal) suicide by jumping out of a window. Her resulting

psychological distress had been treated with various medications and therapies, and she had

always been under the watchful eye of her father, Ledgard. When Norma stumbled and broke

her heel, she exclaimed, "All these clothes give me claustrophobia. If I could, I’d go naked all

the time," prompting Vicente to view it as an invitation to sexually assault her. The audience

is left unaware of the specifics of Norma's emotions and motivations at that moment.

Sobchack argues that “More often than men, women are the objects of gazes that locate and

invite their bodies to live as merely material “things” immanently positioned in space rather

than as conscious subjects with the capacity to transcend their immanence and posit space.” 7,

is pertinent here. Norma's presence as a woman in that space made her vulnerable to being

viewed sexually, regardless of her intention or circumstance. Had Vicente uttered the exact

same words in the same situation, his narrative would have been perceived as intellectual and

existentialist rather than inherently erotic or sexual. This highlights the power dynamics and

gender disparities that exist within the realm of gaze and objectification.

In addition, Almodóvar also explores the idea of confinement through the spatial setting.

El Cigarral, the villa where Vera resides, is initially depicted as a spacious, luxurious dwelling

surrounded by nature, but its true nature is gradually revealed through the opening shot of the

film featuring Vera, the protagonist, trapped behind bars, setting the tone for the theme of

confinement that pervades the narrative. As Vera is served food, the camera shows her room

on a small TV in the kitchen, emphasizing her captivity and isolation from the outside world.

Vera's body becomes a spectacle, with Marilla (the housekeeper) watching over her, Dr

Robert admiring and criticizing her, and Zeca/El Tigre lusting over her. Vera’s body and El
7
Sobchack, Vivian Carol. “Breadcrumbs in the Forest?” in Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving
Image Culture. Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving Image Culture (Berkeley: University of
California Press. P.32)

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Cigarral then become, Sobchack's concept of confinement, “alien place that grounds us in

negativity and denies us access to the world in an infelicitous condition of constraint and

discipline, that locks us up in a room everyone else regards as ours but that we understand as

really belonging to “others.”8 Thus, Vera's body serves as a metaphor for imprisonment, and

El Cigarral serves as a metaphor for the illusion of freedom that reinforces confinement.

Both Vera and Marilla are constrained by the physical and symbolic space allotted to them

in the film. Marilla, as the mother of Zeca and Ledgard, occupies a specific space that is

intruded upon by her son Zeca. When Zeca, a fugitive on the run from the police, seeks

refuge in her space, Marilla resists his presence and demands his departure. Zeca seeks

Robert's assistance in altering the identifying scar on his face, but Marilla informs him that

Robert is unlikely to help, having run away with his wife Gal, who died in a car accident.

Zeca proposes kidnapping Marilla as a means of blackmailing Robert, to which she responds

by saying "I am just a servant." This serves to highlight that Zeca views Marilla as a mere

instrument to achieve his goals, disregarding the fact that she is his mother.

Marilla's body and identity are commodified by both men in the film. Although she is

aware of Ledgard's exploitation and experimentation on Vera's body, Marilla willingly

becomes an accomplice in his actions. Sobchack draws on the work of Iris Marion Young to

argue that “There is an intentional gap between the space of “here” that is the spatial

“position” I can and do occupy and the spatial “positing” of a “yonder” that I grasp in its

possibilities but, as a woman in our culture, do not quite comprehend as potentially mine.” 9.

In the film, women occupy a limited space that is controlled and manipulated by men, while

8
Sobchack, Vivian Carol. “In Any Body Home?” in Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving Image
Culture. Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving Image Culture (Berkeley: University of California
Press. P.184)
9
Sobchack, Vivian Carol. “Breadcrumbs in the Forest?” in Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving
Image Culture. Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving Image Culture (Berkeley: University of
California Press. P.33)

12
their own bodies are objectified and commodified. Marilla's space is never truly her own and

is easily invaded by Zeca, who manhandles and rapes Vera while Marilla is tied to a chair.

Thus, women are marginalized and rendered invisible within the spatial and symbolic

confines of the film.

Returning to the images portrayed in the film, it becomes evident that Ledgard's primary

objective in life is to invent an indestructible and impenetrable skin to create a version of his

deceased wife that cannot be harmed. This obsessive interest ultimately gives rise to Vera,

whom Ledgard perceives as his own creation. Dialogues such as "There's still work to do,"

when Vicente requests to go home, and "It'll also give you support and mould you," when he

makes the full body stocking for Vera, reveal Ledgard's dominant role as Vera's creator and

master. As Vera's face is complete, Ledgard even renames Vicente as Vera, seeking to see the

image of his wife in Vera. Although Ledgard only perceives the image of his wife in Vera and

not her identity, he becomes infatuated with his creation.

Despite Gal and Vera's attempts to end their lives after confronting their new bodies, Vera

miraculously survives. Throughout the process of creating Vera, Vicente never forgets about

himself, demonstrating a strong sense of identity. As the film progresses towards its mid-act

and the flashback of Ledgard and Vicente's story is shown, there is a juxtaposition of

Vicente's face next to Vera's face in Figure 8.

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 Figure 8: Vera’s Flashback

The two bodies placed side by side demonstrate that even though the body is not hers,

Vera still feels at home in her identity as Vicente.

After Ledgard successfully transforms Vicente's face into Vera's, a montage of Vera's

physical resistance is shown. She tears up all the dresses and sends back all the makeup

products, except for the eyeliner, which she uses to write on the walls. After watching a Yoga

show on the small TV in her room, she comes across a quote from the host, who says,

"There's a place where you can take refuge and place inside you, a place which no one else

has access, a place that no one can destroy." Inspired by this, Vera's scribbles on the wall

become about liberation, as she writes "Breathe, I know, I breathe" and dates the writings.

Towards the end of the film, the character Vera deceives Ledgard into believing that she

has embraced her body and identity as Vera, and then she goes downstairs to get the lube,

further solidifying the idea. Vera proceeds to place the lubricant in her handbag, alongside a

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gun and discovers a newspaper featuring a photograph of her former self as Vicente Guillen

Pineiro. Overcome with emotion, she stoops down and kisses the image of her past self.

While Sobchack has criticized the concept of visible images in contemporary society,

characterizing it as “the age of the world picture,”4 “the society of the spectacle,”5 and “the

frenzy of the visible.” The very visibility of the world and ourselves in represented images

“drives everything together in the unity of that which is thus given the character of an

object.”10 The act of Vera kissing the physical image of her past self can be interpreted as a

process of reconfiguring a lost image of Vicente. This event motivated her to take action and

return home. Therefore, the "frenzy of the visible" not only entails being under constant

surveillance and scrutiny but also serves as a marker of what our body images represent.

In conclusion, The Skin I Live In is a film that explores the themes of power, abuse, and

revenge through the lens of the body. Vivian Sobchack's insights on the objectification of the

body and the alienation of the self are useful in understanding the film's portrayal of the body

as a resource and the role of the spectator in viewing it. The film uses cinematic techniques

such as violence, spatial settings, and art to exemplify the distancing of the body and its

transformation into an object. Through the characters of Vera, Marilla, Norma, and Gal, the

film highlights the objectification and control of women's bodies. The idea of confinement is

also explored through the spatial setting, with El Cigarral serving as a metaphor for the

illusion of freedom that reinforces confinement. Overall, The Skin I Live In is a disturbing

but thought-provoking film that challenges the viewer's perspective on the body and its

relationship to power and control.

10
Sobchack, Vivian Carol. “In Any Body Home?” in Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving Image
Culture. Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving Image Culture (Berkeley: University of California
Press. P.181)

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 Bibliography

Bacchus and Ariadne, Guido Reni, between 1619-1620. Public Domain

Laine, T. (2014) 'Art as a guaranty of sanity: The Skin I Live In', (Alphaville: Journal of Film

and Screen Media, 7, pp. 24–38. https://doi.org/10.33178/alpha.7.02.)

Sobchack, Vivian Carol. “In Any Body Home?” in Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and

Moving Image Culture. Carnal Thoughts: Embodiment and Moving Image Culture

(Berkeley: University of California Press. P.181)

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