Carine Adler's flawed but frequently powerful debut, Under The Skin, is the latest addition to a movement of raw, documentary-like British dramas about the working class, led by directors Mike Leigh (Secrets And Lies, Naked) and Ken Loach (Riff-Raff, Raining Stones). While the comparison generally doesn't work in her favor—Adler's storytelling is too schematic, and less funny and socially conscious than that of her contemporaries—Under The Skin shares the same vivid sense of everyday life, benefiting from a number of exceptional performances. Foremost among them is Samantha Morton as an impulsive and childlike waif competing with her older sister, Claire Rushbrook (Brenda Blethyn's sibling in Secrets And Lies), for the affections of their mother (Rita Tushingham), even after she dies. Angry and remorseful, Morton responds by assuming her mother's identity, donning a ratty blond wig and a rattier fur coat, and developing a voracious appetite for sexual degradation. Her reckless experimentation, which becomes more and more dangerous over time, instantly recalls two better films, Last Tango In Paris and Breaking The Waves. But Adler and Morton stake out psychological territory of their own, adding subtle emotional inflections to each encounter by refusing to deny the strange gratifications along the path to self-destruction. Under The Skin isn't always convincing, and the resolution is pat, but Morton's fearless, uninhibited screen debut makes it worthwhile.