Comforting Skin

This one’s not on Netflix anymore and for that you should be grateful.

Comforting Skin is a melodramatic, whiny indie movie about a depressed woman who gets a mysterious tattoo that comes to life and starts a controlling, abusive relationship with the human being it is tattooed on. With that description, you would hope that Comforting Skin would at least be the kind of ONE HORROR rating terrible masterpiece that I love, but boy howdy it is not. Remember all the boring scenes in Blair Witch of angsty teens shouting at each other? It’s like that but for two hours straight with a few tits sprinkled in and absolutely zero of the spooky Blair Witch elements that made that movie actually scary.

Your first clue that this is a hipster-ass indie movie is that the protagonist is a white, white, white girl named Koffie, a name that I had to google to make sure I wasn’t being culturally insensitive, but nope, it’s an African name on a manic pixie bland girl who was probably born a Sharon and decided that wasn’t interesting enough. Koffie feels lonely and unappreciated, probably because everyone around her is an overwrought narcissist, so after a rough breakup with an abusive older man (picture a middle manager for a napkin company named Harold, he’s basically that) Koffie decides to get a tattoo. She gets some sort of abstract spiky thing on her shoulder and shows it off to everyone she knows because it is instantly the most interesting thing about her. Soon, though, the tattoo begins to whisper sweet nothings and swirl around her body, convincing her to abandon all her relationships with human beings and focus only on the tattoo.

And yes, she has sex with the goddamn tattoo, in a weird bed-humping scene which I believe happens twice, once when Koffie has consensual…sex? with the tattoo, and once where the tattoo RAPES HER. Great, good, thank you movie, this was necessary. Her mental breakdown devolves into fist fights with friends, taking a gun to her FOOT, bathing in pop rocks (like a full bathtub of pop rocks, which HAS to be where the majority of the budget went), and I’m tired I give up I’m done. It’s so bad, gang. It wants so desperately to be a deep dive into isolation and vulnerability and mental illness, but it’s just a bunch of weird sex and SO MUCH YELLING. And as much fun as that sounds, it’s boring as shit.

I would happily spoil this movie for you, because no one should watch it, but I can’t remember how it ends because I didn’t care, and everyone else who reviewed it online turned it off halfway through because THEY’RE NOT AS STRONG AS ME so let’s just say that the tattoo splits off her body and turns into a giant tattoo monster that eats her and all her friends and also the director, writer, and producer so they can’t make a sequel. There. Doesn’t THAT movie sound great? I need to get into Hollywood.

Comforting Skin gets……TWO HORRORS. It’s tedious in every way that a thing can be tedious and, while the concept could have made for a decent short film if you replaced the entire creative team, it is in no way worth the hundreds of dollars of pop rocks that died in vain for this exhausting slog of a movie.

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May they rest in peace, they’re with the angels now.
Comforting Skin

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