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I’ve always appreciated Pedro Almodovar’s films without necessarily calling myself a fan, until he made The Skin I Live In, which quickly became my favourite of his films. Hopes that he might continue in the horror vein have been waylaid, however, as his latest effort goes right back to the crude sex comedies on which he originally forged his career. Set entirely on a plane, the film busies itself with incessantly exploring just how gay the male flight attendants and pilots are, and just how reprehensible they are prepared to behave after drugging most of the passengers. There is supposedly some life threatening disaster imminent and socio-political satire in there about the current state of Spain’s economy, but frankly I found this incredibly disposable and disappointing.

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