 A film in three minutes, Mysterious Skin. When you think about the films that mean most to you, do they include the dazzling spectacles of high fantasy? Perhaps your chosen stories make you laugh, or cry, or simply feel more alive. For me, Greg Araki's 2004 film, Mysterious Skin, is one such example. Based on the 1995 novel written by Scott Heim, the story follows two young men, Neil McCormack, played by Joseph Gordon Levitt, and Brian Lackey, played by Brady Corbett, who, as young boys, were sexually abused by their Little League Baseball coach in early 1980s Kansas. After the life-changing event, McCormack becomes an underage prostitute, whilst Lackey develops an obsession with UFOs, believing that he was abducted by aliens as a child due to the memories of his abuse being repressed. In his search for an explanation as to why he keeps having vivid dreams about abduction, Lackey tracks down McCormack, who helps him begin the long, slow journey of self-discovery, which acts as catharsis for both men as they try to recover from their childhood trauma. To say that the story of Mysterious Skin is harrowing would be an understatement, as its subject matter is one of the most sobering, and yet, at the same time, one of the most beautiful films to ever deal with the subject of child abuse. This beauty lies with director Araki's vision of a now long-gone small-town America, where the lives of these two men are inextricably linked. Both characters are haunted by their past, but Lackey's personal quest for the truth and the friendship he earns from McCormack once he finds it is what gives the story its melancholic heart. The brief scenes with the baseball coach play terrifyingly by Bill Sage, where we see him abuse both children are rightfully almost unbearable to watch, but Araki makes clever use of the camera, utilising it to imply what is happening rather than to show. Both the adult and child actors were framed and shot separately, giving the scenes a dreamlike quality rather than horrific reality. But this feeling of fantasy permeates much of the film, making the small town of Hutchinson, Kansas feel almost timeless as we dart backwards and forwards throughout both boys' lives. The film's dreamlike quality is enhanced greatly by Araki's choice of Harold Budd and Robin Guffrey to compose the soundtrack, easily creating one of the most hauntingly beautiful film scores I have ever listened to. Beauty also lies in the film's many strong performances, with particular praise levied on Gordon Levitt's touching portrayal of a clearly broken young man. The several scenes of McCormack prostituting himself with random strangers and the emotional strain such encounters demand makes his persona all the more tragic, and acts as one of the rare instances where the potential long-term effects of child abuse on a person is shown on the screen. But for me, the heart of the film is seen through Brian Lackey's eyes, as his quest to find the truth becomes a much greater struggle than he had ever first anticipated. The theme of self-discovery plays throughout Araki's screenplay, but despite Mysterious Skin's dark subject matter, the universal idea of seeking the truth is one that every person can relate to, no matter how troubling the answer's sort might be.