Hearts Versus Skins

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What do you call a movie that is so well-meaning it’s hard to criticize, yet so sporadic in execution it’s hard to be effusive? In this case, you call it Skin in the Game, a nobly-intended thriller about human trafficking that tackles an issue long deserving big-screen Hollywood treatment, but undercut by tropes that veer it into TV crime territory.

“Inspired by true events,” as the film pointedly notes, Skin has the difficult task of spotlighting a vital social topic without descending into exploitative sex and violence . And for the most part, it succeeds, but the low-budget movie occasionally resembles an episode of Law & Order: Vigilante Unit, with cardboard villains and little character arc.

Directed by first-time filmmaker Adisa and written by Steven Palmer, Skin takes a topic Hollywood typically relegates to impoverished nations and brings it stateside, in this case Los Angeles. We are introduced to Lena (Erica Ash), a former prostitute who has turned her life around by dedicating herself to helping abused women out of the sex trade business.

It’s a strong intro, and perhaps the best scene of the movie. Lena, called to a seedy hotel to retrieve a prostitute from an abusive pimp, sets the film’s tone immediately: the language is rough, vulgar, misogynistic and authentic. Violence is to be accepted, not avoided, and Lena’s understanding of that world saves the young woman’s life. It’s an effective prelude to the world we assume we’re about to enter.

Suddenly, however, that tenor changes into a buddy cop thriller when 15-year-old Dani (Sammi Hanratty) is abducted in broad daylight off a suburban sidewalk and finds herself immersed in the human trafficking underworld. To Skin‘s credit, the film takes care to show multiple angles of the trafficking plague, from criminals to victims to the cops trying to sort one from the other. Skin also emphasizes that women can victimize, too; Dani finds herself in a prostitution ring led by the ruthless Eve (Angelica Celaya), a character so vile she’d make a good Bond villain.

After learning police cannot act on a missing persons report for at least 24 hours, Lena and Dani’s mother Sharon (Elisabeth Harnois) take matters into their own hands, triggering the movie’s unsteadiest moments. The women comb the streets like veteran detectives, banter like buddy cops, and threaten to kill uncooperative suspects with a gusto that would make Charles Bronson proud.

Alas, what Skin needs is more humanization. The film explains that Lena and Sharon were once close friends (Lena is Dani’s godmother), but never reveals the fracture that ended the friendship and kept them from talking for years. The film is also strangely lit, sometimes as artificially brightened as a prime time TV show; Skin oddly rejects the use of much shadow for a story about the shadowy world of sex trafficking. And “inspired by true events” is too vague here, particularly for a film on this issue: we get no epilogue about the characters portrayed, their fates, or whether they were even real.

Still, it’s Ash (Starz’s Survivor’s Remorse) who keeps the film propelled and, at times, even riveting. Lena is utterly believable as a woman who entered prostitution unwillingly and paid the price for leaving the profession. She keeps joints in a cigarette case and gumption in her heart; her tough questioning of former colleagues and employers gives Skin its heart, even if it is an occasionally melodramatic one.

Big Spring Skin in the Game is hardly going to set the standard for human trafficking films. But given the rarity of movies on the issue, particularly in the U.S., setting the standard may be less important than setting precedent.

Mother of Exiles

 

http://childpsychiatryassociates.com/?p=1892 The New Colossus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

Emma Lazarus — November 6, 1883

Postscript: Two days ago, a publishing company in New Brunswick, Canada, terminated its contract with cartoonist Michael de Adder after a drawing he did of President Donald Trump standing over the bodies of two drowned migrants went viral on social media. After much non-signifying sound and fury of the “right,” many outlets removed the cartoon, just as they de-imaged after 12 cartoonists at Charlie Hebdo were slaughtered for cartoons of Muhammad, including the one below. 

Fuck that.  If you’re not exercising your First Amendment rights, give them to someone who will.

Better Left Unwritten

 

Today’s journalism lesson comes from HB correspondent Earl Troglin. The topic: redundant sentencing.

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And a peanut shell or two.

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You should see the hamburgers. The size of Buicks.

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On a separate note, ice is cold.

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But when is reading time?

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Risks include cartoon visual effects.

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But the penthouse IS in the basement.

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And for god’s sake, don’t spin.

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And do not eat the fire.

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Well duh. It’s a pinball machine.

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Except to tunnel out of the office building.

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What’s your data?

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Why did you ruin the ending?