Media and Music: The Music of Memory in “Mysterious Skin”

The ethereal score and shoegaze soundtrack of “Mysterious Skin” builds the film’s unsettling haze as its characters’ repressed memories resurface.

In Media and Music, our writers take a deep dive into how movies use scores and songs to engage viewers, give new meaning and tone to some of our favorite scenes, and establish themes. It almost goes without saying, but there are spoilers abound.

Written by Miranda Garza

Photos courtesy of Fortissimo Films, Antidote Films, and Desperate Pictures

Content Warning: This article contains language on sexual assault and violence. 

Based on Scott Heim’s novel of the same name, Gregg Araki’s “Mysterious Skin” is a poignant, and, at times, difficult watch. The film explores the life-altering effects of abuse and how the human brain attempts to protect itself from trauma.  With a score and soundtrack composed of transcendental arrangements and saturated shoegaze, the film’s music heightens the sense of mystery around what happened to the main characters as children.

The film begins with a narration from the meek Brian Lackey, describing a five-hour memory gap he has from the summer when he was eight years old. The last thing he recalls is his baseball game getting rained on, before his sister finds him in their home’s wine cellar with blood dripping from his nose. This unclear memory marks the start of Brian’s chronic nosebleeds, bed wetting, blackouts, and nightmares about being probed by a strange figure. All of this leads the now 18-year-old to believe that his lost memories are due to an alien abduction. Glowing strings guide him through his jagged recollection, glistening with an astral shine within his extraterrestrial experience. 

Meanwhile, headstrong eight-year-old Neil McCormick was discovering his homosexuality and attraction toward older men. A score similar to Brian’s, but set apart with a feeble piano line, plays as he recalls his first encounter meeting his baseball coach and instances where, unbeknownst to Neil, the authority figure was attempting to groom him. The unfeigned keys offer a sense of nostalgia to the memories, vindicating the coach of his disturbing actions — something Neil does often in this film. These acquitting notes resurface with a louder cadence during a flashback of the young boy at the coach’s house, where the two throw cereal at each other around the kitchen table.

Uneasy atmospheric reverb swells as Brian recalls the second time he was visited by the fourth kind: Halloween night of that year. Like the score’s hazy ambience, his night blurs after local bullies harass him and break his glasses. With his vision impaired, the young boy runs through his neighborhood, frantically seeking refuge from his tormentors. He recalls seeing a celestial being just before blacking out again.

At this point in the film, the audience meets the two main characters as young adults as they live their similarly peculiar, yet contrasting lives. While Brian feeds into his obsession with aliens by reaching out to fellow abduction survivors, Neil pursues sex work for his own enjoyment. Disapproving of his lifestyle is his childhood best friend and “true partner in crime,” Wendy, who fears for his safety.  The pair sneak out at night to loiter around an abandoned drive-in movie lot, when Brighter’s “Inside Out” fades in with lush flurries as snow trickles down on them. The duo takes in the new-to-town and lively Eric as they cruise around town with “Galaxy” by Curve blasting from the car radio.

The previous misty chimes that played during Brian’s limited flashbacks flush his alien-ridden dreams, in which he now sees glimpses of a young boy. He discovers this young boy is Neil after finding a photo of their old Little League team. Brian seeks out his former teammate, believing that he was also abducted, only to find that Neil now resides in New York with Wendy. Still, Brian befriends Eric, as the two attend the same college, and “Catch the Breeze” by Slowdive plays as Eric explains his new friend to Neil via postcard, offering the film a lighthearted breath of fresh air. The shoegaze reverb continues as the two celebrate Brian’s birthday to Ride’s “Drive Blind,” but the carefree music dulls as Eric comes across an alien portrait drawn by Brian. Eric points out one stark detail: the alien is wearing baseball cleats.

In New York, Neil, displeased with the mundane nature of his fast food job, continues his sex work on the side for his own fulfillment. This halts when a stranger sexually and physically assaults the 18-year-old, leaving him to return home for Christmas battered and in shock. The absence of music through this disturbing sequence of scenes is ear-splitting, cornering watchers. The film no longer hides implied violence behind its composition.

After arriving back home, pensive notes fill the air as Brian and Neil reunite for the first time in 10 years. The former is rendered almost speechless with the exchange, while the latter is indifferent. The light tune continues as Neil takes Brian to their former coach’s house. Although the predator is long gone, the house’s chilling energy suggests that his presence still lingers. The previous strings that filled Brian’s empty memories rise as the two break into the empty residence. The aerial instrumentation grows louder with moving piano keys as Neil recalls, moment by moment, the night that Brian believes he was abducted, eventually revealing the abuse they endured that night at the hands of their coach. The score piles as the blocked memories resurface, followed by a piercing silence. Neil explains how, after the abuse, Brian looked like he’d “been erased,” alluding to his dissociation — a common coping mechanism among trauma survivors. An unspoken, yet mutual understanding of each others’ turmoil is present between the two boys as Brian breaks down, sobbing and trembling in Neil’s lap.

Carolers approach the door, unaware of what’s happening inside. They serenade the two with a haunting rendition of “Silent Night.” Eventually, their wistful singing fades into the heavy keys of Sigur Rós’s “Samskeyti (Acoustic)” that carry out the film’s final scene.

Popularized by its controversy, “Mysterious Skin” is unflinching with its depiction of trauma and its aftershocks. This depiction is what makes Araki’s portrayal of the events harrowing and realistic. Its opaque soundtrack exists to parallel the cloudiness of the boys’ memories, leaving audiences grasping for any fragile melody to divert them from the characters’ realities.