Shame

• Director: Steve McQueen
• Screenwriter/Written By: Abi Morgan, Steve McQueen
• Producer: Emile Sherman, Iain Canning
• Starring: Carey Mulligan, James Badge Dale, Michael Fassbender, Nicole Beharie
• Running Time: 99 mins.
• Language: English
• Rating: NC-17

Director Steve McQueen’s second feature collaboration with actor Michael Fassbender is just as disturbing in its imagery and silence as McQueen’s Hunger, yet just the opposite in terms of the use of one’s body to attain freedom. Shame takes an unabashed look at a man’s unwanted addiction, and for this, will divide its audience not just for exposing an overlooked subject matter, but for its unwillingness to spoon-feed answers as to what is going on beneath the surface.

Brandon Sullivan (Fassbender) is a white-collar yuppie with a seemingly successful and controlled life, but he conceals an addiction to non-affectionate intercourse with strangers and masturbating to the filthiest pornography imaginable. His is a crippling disease which takes his most intimate human interactions and forces him to experience them at a distance from the sick reality. His illness becomes unmanageable as his unpredictable and troubled sister, Sissy (Carey Mulligan), suddenly reenters his life of constants.

While some may assume the great amounts of sex and nudity appear solely to shock, Shame casually includes such scenes in an effort to project the realities in the life of a sex addict. McQueen and his collaborators rely heavily on a naturalistic style appropriate to the subject: long takes accent the artistic tableaux, and the sex is visualized through graphic montage. Many other filmmakers more concerned with the audience’s discomfort lose sight of a film’s artistic value, and Shame, under another filmmaker, might well have succumbed to debasement. Yet McQueen succeeds here in the maintenance of his vision, and the subject thus benefits.

The movie is not without issue – it does not fully examine sex addiction and provides no closure for Brandon. McQueen and Abi Morgan, with whom he co-wrote the script, fail to explain Brandon and his sister’s mysterious past, which hints at sexual abuse or incest. The audience is forced into the middle of these characters’ lives, participants without proper background made to interpret the stories of others; this, perhaps, is the most serious fault of an otherwise strong script.

Shame is, first and foremost, a study of a man’s pain, his need for sex and how that interferes with his smooth facade. That this is a troubling character study need not be explained: it is palpable in Brandon’s actions, what he does or does not say, and in long close-ups.

Fassbender’s performance as a man imprisoned by his own inescapable addition reveals excruciating vulnerability and pain. Complementary to this troubled soul is his sister, a compelling character simply longing for a connection to her sibling. Carey Mulligan (Drive, An Education), along with Fassbender, continues to bring amazing performances. Her Sissy is the film’s most compelling aspect, and similarly, Fassbender is worthy of all nominations heading his way.

Shame is thoroughly engaging due in part to the performances, but also to Steve McQueen’s ability to craft a truly haunting mood through rhythm, shot length, and dramatic subtlety. The minor use of dialogue forces introspection, and for much of the running length, any sense of artifice seems to dissolve from the screen. While some viewers are bound to find the film difficult to sit through, the fascinating characters and artful direction make this feature one of a kind.