A film where it's not about the actors, but the story. Intense.

For everybody who does not know the famous 1939 film, Oz: The Great and Powerful must not just make no sense at all, it must feel like a strange shallow tale, peppered with platitudes from the "Guide to the World of Fairy Tales". This film shamelessly takes every visual bit it could find useful and blowed it up to a giant bubble—obviously without fear that this one could ever burst.

This why I love Almodóvar films: Always a thin line between fiction and non-fiction, something which could be real but isn't at the same time. The same with The Skin I Live In, a modern interpretation of the Frankenstein theme, brought to a believable, but cruel and sadistic, even masochistic level. This is European cinema at its best.