Skinner

You wouldn't normally associate Ricki Lake with Traci Lords, but they have actually appeared in two films together.  First, they played cool "'drapes" in Cry-Baby (man, I want to be in an awesome gang).  Then they starred in 1993's Skinner.  Traci Lords.  Really, just...I want to talk about Traci Lords.  I mean, I can review Skinner if you want, but Traci Lords.  Back in the 90's (my favorite decade), she might have been the hottest human to have ever existed.  Is beauty in the eye of the beholder or am I right here, you guys?  She's currently 52, and I would still bang her bathtub.  Remember that mediocre industrial rock record she released in 1995?  That was weird, huh?

So Traci Lords.  Goddamn it, no!  I'm going to discuss Skinner now.  Besides, that's why I summoned you to this unsettled, far-flung alcazar of substantial enormity.  Pay no mind to the miniature coffins.  Anyway, this is a sleazeball slasher that finds Ted Raimi flaying all manner of prostitutes.  I should mention that Raimi is playing a character named Dennis, not himself.  It's a compelling performance.  The script attempts to be an abstruse, intellectual study of psychosomatic maladies, but despite admirable efforts, it doesn't know how to carry its own thematic weight.

Let's be honest.  Horror hounds only rented this tape to see estuaries (or tributaries, if you prefer) of blood and acres of female flesh.  To Skinner's credit, it does yield a surplus of both elements.  Lords holds fast to her articles of clothing, and yet, it didn't bother me.  The woman is a work of art, whether she's nude or not.  She fares well as Heidi, a disturbed, deformed lady in black who seems to be stalking Dennis.  Hmm?  It's not as intriguing as it sounds.  She swears to get revenge on the unglued schizoid, but she wastes a zillion opportunities to hack the fucker to pieces.  Does that constitute a spoiler?  I promise that you don't care.

For a movie that didn't leave indissoluble indentations in my seat of affections, Skinner was well-manicured.  Props to director Ivan Nagy for making everything easy to ogle.  He uses jazzy, chromatic filters for nighttime exteriors, and it helps mundane sets pop.  Of course, I don't know if he used filters.  I'm a buffoon when it comes to the technical side of filmmaking, but ah, I know when colors are pretty.  I'm basically an expert.  As I was expertly saying, Skinner isn't too shabby.  The cast is committed, the KNB effects are grotesque, and I suppose I wanted to learn how the plot resolved itself.  That isn't quite the same as being hooked, though.

I wasn't stupefied by anything that this film was offering.  Was it overtly, hawkishly crummy?  No.  My rating is somewhat altruistic because, y'know, Traci Lords.  Traci Lords.