At the tail-end of 2011; our very own mother superior Sophie posted her thoughts on Shame; the Michael Fassbender-starring second feature from modern artist come film-maker Steve McQueen. Those thoughts, whilst appreciative of the artistic endeavour, were not however particularly enthusiastic to the overall outcome. So having taken an instant love to all things McQueen & Fassbender after witnessing the downright incredible Hunger almost four years ago, it goes without saying that I was hopeful I'd be able to readdress the balance somewhat after seeing McQueen's take on personal addiction.
That very subject matter is certainly nothing new to fiction film. To highlight some of the stronger moments from the past; Kubrick dedicated an entire work to the adrenaline rush felt by committing acts of violence. Danny Boyle (much to the detestation of Eric Clapton) dared to display both the euphoria & despair experienced by a group of Edinburgh-based junkies in equal measure. Whilst Ken Loach sensitively portrayed the debilitating nature of alcoholism and the hardship one faces in overcoming those specific personal demons on the road to rehabilitation.
Over the years; we've seen cinema tackle the chastising nature that drink, drugs, violence & other forms of vice can have over the mindset or well-being of an individual in a number of forms, genres and narratives. One concept of addiction that has remained mostly untouched from critique however (in a serious manner anyway) is the concept of sex. When it has been tackled before, it has largely been done so in a sort of celebratory, glossy and nauseating manner typified by bawdy comedies (see the appalling Josh Hartnett-led 40 Days & 40 Nights). Steve McQueen's Shame on the other hand, whilst not necessarily immune from wry humour, has no intention of playing it for laughs - even if some of us might snort at the very idea of it being christened as a potential addiction in the first place (see MSN's pig-ignorant feature on that very question & the corresponding trolling that follows).
The truth is; whether it's sex, drugs, rock'n'roll, sausage rolls or some other glorious yet unhealthy thing when consumed in obscene quantities; anything and everything has the power to become addictive (a gentleman in the far-east didn't die of dehydration playing World Of Warcraft because he was lazy - although after failing to recognise the importance of both toilet and food / drink breaks I suspect he probably was a moron), so in other words, the question of whether or not sex can be deemed one is irrelevant. Additionally, Shame is not really even a film about sex addiction, but a film about addiction itself.
Portraying this circumstance comes in the form of Michael Fassbender's Brandon; a good looking, relatively successful bachelor accustomed to sharp suits, immaculate apartments and trendy drinking establishments sound-tracked by Chet Baker's playful jazz arrangements and populated by the high-flying business types who tend to dominate Manhattan's commercial infrastructure. Underneath Brandon's materialistic motifs however is a relentless lustful desire for release - manifested in the early stages by his liking for home-visiting prostitutes, frequent trips to a bathroom cubicle, casual sex with a stranger underneath a bridge and most tellingly of all, a subway encounter that flips from flirtation to something more predatory in a matter of seconds.
Initially; Brandon appears to revel in his actions, but the re-introduction of his estranged & damaged sister Sissy into his life (a superb Carey Mulligan - the best she's been since An Education & how Bafta acknowledged her largely insignificant role in Drive rather than this boggles the mind) slowly begins to change that circumstance, inadvertently holding up a mirror to himself and inspiring him to face up to the idea that he may have a problem.
In certain hands; the set-up of Shame would then follow on into the realm of redemption story, but like his debut feature Hunger, it's ultimately debilitation rather than rehabilitation McQueen is interested in. This is signified by the presence of Marianne (Nicole Beharie), a woman Brandon identifies as potential salvation from his traditional approach to both sex & relationships and makes a conscious effort to break out of his old habits in the attempt to make a connection with her that's something more than pure physicality. The scenes between the pair resemble the only exchanges Brandon has with anyone that could be deemed playful and in a film full of sex scenes, their eventual physical embrace is the only one in Shame that resembles something that could be considered erotic. It's also the most tragic as it cements the notion that Brandon, no matter how hard he wishes or tries, cannot separate himself from the lustful cravings his body demands.
Whilst McQueen's directorial hand is exquisite in constructing the various set-pieces throughout, it's the performance of Fassbender that truly makes Shame essential viewing. Much like his breakthrough role as IRA ringleader Bobby Sands in Hunger, it's an extraordinary depiction of body and mind that's deserving of the highest awards recognition going (although given the Oscar politics it's hardly surprising he wasn't recognized by the academy). This is best represented in a devastating scene in the midst of a night of debauchery when Brandon embarks on a threesome, the complete despair awash on his face in the moment of climax is not only the first time the mask well & truly comes off, it's also both a heart-breaking moment and a truly phenomenal piece of acting.
The common thoughts from those less enthusiastic about Shame have pointed its failings to being down to a lack of a plot, an absence of definition or because it's too uncomfortable to watch; but I would suggest all three factors are more down to personal preference rather than objective criticism. A film about personal addiction has a responsibility to focus on the mindset of those who are suffering from it - not about how a person with that condition responds to a series of deliberately contrived story incidents. It is a film that frequently plays on suggestion rather than explanation (specifically the background to Brandon & Missy's relationship) and that should not be confused with plot-holes. In fact, one of the strengths of its ambiguous nature is represented at the very end of the film as it comes full circle - the subway scene is essentially returned to, stating which side of the fence the object of Brandon's affections has now sided with yet leaves it up to the viewer whether he has managed to properly digest his experiences or whether his previous characteristics will continue to dominate his decision-making. Finally; given it's also a film representing sex addiction, it's also quite rightly going to be a challenging viewing experience - but one that's justified in its graphic display as opposed to something needlessly explicit like Enter The Void or grotesque like A Serbian Film.
That's not to say however that it's a flawless work. Somewhere between Brandon's night of debauchery and the closing moments, it loses confidence in the strengths of its convictions by adding some needless melodrama which threaten to undo all the good work that's come before - building to a breakdown sequence that had already been perfectly articulated during the threesome and in affect, dilutes that scenes' significance. That one misstep however shouldn't cause one to forget that Shame overall couldn't be considered as anything other than a triumph - a subtle, intelligently crafted work that reinforces McQueen as one of the most exciting and interesting British directors working today and along with the talents of Fassbender, have suggested a film-making partnership of auteur and actor that could rank proudly alongside the likes of Herzog & Kinski or Scorsese & De Niro over the course of time. It's by no means a comfortable watch, but many of the truly best films never are.
4/5
