Jonathan Glazer has thus far directed four feature films, all wildly different in terms of genre, style, tone and thematic concern. According to the influential Film critic Andrew Sarris that means he would be best described as a metteur en scene – a lesser, if technically very accomplished director, although one who is incapable of stamping his (or her) personality on to the films he has directed. Interestingly enough, you could possibly say the same thing about Kubrick who, to no great surprise, Glazer cites as his favourite director and biggest influence.

Glazer began his career in advertising (he’s famous for directing the memorable black and white Guinness Surfer advertisement, which featured extracts from Moby Dick and some brilliantly CGI’d horses). He also directed a number of incredibly innovative pop videos – including Sweet Insanity for Jamiroquai (the one with the moving settee) and Rabbit in the Headlights for UNKLE (the one with the tramp in the Rotherhithe tunnel and the shabby raincoat).

In 2000 he gave Ben Kingsley one of his finest roles as psycho mobster Don Logan in his extremely gripping (and funny) British crime drama Sexy Beast (also featuring the mighty Ray Winstone and a soundtrack by Leftfield, whose doomy synth music had been popularised by the Guinness advert). The film was written by Louis Mellis and David Scinto (Mellis had been the narrator on the Surfer advert) who had previously scripted the hard as nails Gangster Number One, which Glazer had been due to direct. However, all three left the project due to certain casting decisions (presumably they weren’t too keen on Malcolm McDowell) and gained the reputation of being “difficult to work with.” He followed this up, four years later, with the oddball, controversial and poorly reviewed Nicole Kidman drama Birth (after her husband dies of an unexpected heart attack, he returns “reborn” as an 10 year old boy) and he is now an Oscar winner for The Zone of Interest, one of 2023’s best films – a chilling drama about the family life of the chief commandant at the Auschwitz concentration camp, which starred Anatomy of a Fall’s Sandra Huller.

His third film, the long gestating Under the Skin (2014) which stars Scarlett Johansson, is screening at the UPP as part of the Alien-nation season in April and it is this film (currently on the A Level film syllabus) which I wish to focus on here (arguably it is Glazer’s most fascinating and effective work).

Based on a novella by Michael Faber (but radically rewritten by Glazer and his team) and featuring a brilliant soundtrack by Mica Levi (they also scored The Zone of Interest) the basic premise of Under the Skin is that, for reasons which remain ambiguous (and ambiguity is the film’s main strength) an alien race is “harvesting” human males to feed itself (somehow). In order to “entrap” these men, an attractive human robot (Johansson) has been “created” (superbly, in the film’s bravura 15 minute or so wordless opening) who will, like the sirens of myth, lure them to their peril with her sex. It/She does this by driving round Glasgow in a white transit van and “picking them up” and then taking them to a mysterious run down house, where the men are “subsumed” in genuinely nightmarish style.

But there’s a catch.

Gradually Johansson’s alien is learning to understand humankind and developing empathy – a theme not uncommon in “robot” movies (just think Blade Runner, A.I., Star Wars, Ex_Machina [which gleefully subverts the idea] or even the recent Companion).

So what is it about Under the Skin which makes it such a clever, thought-provoking and memorable piece of science fiction, other than the setting (a scene, including a drowning man, a dog and a baby on a harsh Scottish beach is one of the most cold-hearted and cruel sequences I have ever seen on screen)? Well, in the first instance it’s the way the film was shot by Daniel Landin, often using hidden cameras. This gives the film a raw, naturalistic and harsh quality – quite unlike that of your “traditional” sci fi movie. Often the men in the movie, filmed at local nightclubs or on the streets of Glasgow after “kicking out time” were genuinely unaware that it was Johansson who was “chatting them up” and this gives the film a weirdly offbeat frisson.

In fact, rather like Ken Loach, throughout the film Glazer gets non professionals to play themselves, including Adam Pearson, who suffers from neurofibromatosis and who plays a “deformed” man, whose candid gentleness marks the beginnings of Johansson’s journey of discovery (Pearson recently appeared in the well received A Different Man alongside Sebastian Stan).

The Mica Levi string-heavy score is a thing of strange beauty and wonderment – their music bringing a very human feel to the other-worldly narrative. And finally the film has as much to say about gender and man’s inhumanity to man (in this case read woman) making Under the Skin very much a contemporary take on the “battle of the sexes,” as well as a highly original and disturbing piece of science fiction. The film failed to find an audience upon its initial release; lost quite a lot of money and it was almost ten years before Glazer “returned” with the highly acclaimed Zone of Interest.

It’s really interesting to note, yet again, those Kubrick comparisons. Glazer directs his films with what might appear to be a dispassionate eye; his films are technically meticulous and “cold;” he works in totally different genres coaxing excellent performance from his stars. He uses music chillingly but brilliantly. His films often baffle audiences and can divide critics.

None of these things seem to concern him. He keeps on making rock solid films which reveal his artistry and commitment to the capability of cinema.

In no uncertain terms, it’s evident that Glazer and Kubrick have much in common. Not least the fact that these two auteurs have made movies that demand to be seen repeatedly on the big screen. Don’t miss the chance to catch (or re-watch) Under the Skin next month at the UPP.

A film that (hem hem) will remain under your skin for many, many years to come.

Dr Andrew C Webber is a Film teacher and examiner with 39 years’ experience. He currently contributes to both the Cinema of the 70s and 80s magazines (available on Amazon); cassette gazette fanzine (available from cassette pirate on e-bay) and the Low Noise music podcast available on Spotify and Apple podcasts.