Shame (2011)

Before Michael Fassbender was a household name with performances in Tarantino’s Inglorious Basterds (2010) and the latest (or earliest as it is indeed a prequel) X-Men adventure, he shocked audiences with his performance as Bobby Sands in Steve McQueen’s directorial debut and tour-de-force Hunger (2008). McQueen opened with constant close-ups making it visually stunning before he allowed his lead to bring the film to life with a fifteen minute long single shot and a duologue with a priest that brought vivid images to the audience’s mind without the need of the camera portraying what is being discussed. This is all before Fassbender undertook a medically monitored crash-diet in order to portray Sands in his final days.

Needless to say, McQueen’s follow up has been hotly anticipated and he has once again teamed up with Fassbender, who, with his recently acquired fame, has caused even more buzz for this feature. Shame (2011) follows Fassbender’s sex-addicted introvert, Brandon. His carefully cultivated private life helps him to indulge his addiction until the arrival of his extroverted, exhibitionist sister, Sissy (Carey Mulligan).

The concept of addiction has been tackled widely on screen; from alcohol to narcotics, from comedies to biopics. However the idea of sex addictions is still hidden from the mainstream and is still considered a taboo. McQueen dives straight into this theme with little regard for the taboo it may appear to hold. McQueen purposefully chose sex because of the stigma it holds as opposed to drugs or alcohol. But why make this film? McQueen has stated in an interview that his films are personal. That’s not to say he’s a sex addict, or an addict of another variety, but with addiction comes other characteristics. Brandon is an introvert partly due to his addiction to sex which has been described as “an illness of intimacy”. This cut-off way of life leads to a feeling of loneliness, it’s like being lost. McQueen said that “Brandon in Shame is my response to being lost – I’ve not been there in the sense of sexual addiction, but I’ve been lost.”

This idea of feeling lost is precisely the reason for setting the film in Manhattan. Shame views New York from the point of view of a citizen as opposed to that of a tourist, and could well be due to that fact that McQueen studied at NYU. The film doesn’t focus on the many views and sights that people think define New York, not once does the audience see Central Park or the Empire State Building. The film shows New York as somebody who lives there sees it: just another city and a place to live. It’s a cliché to say that New York is a cultural melting pot, but McQueen doesn’t use New York as an example of how a wide range of cultures can have their own input into a city’s wider appeal. The cultural diversity acts as camouflage in New York’s concrete jungle:

“Everyone there is from somewhere. It’s all about immigrants, always a new wave of cab drivers – Haitian, then Pakistani, then Russian. It’s a city that can always reinvent itself and that’s what I wanted for my character, somewhere to hide.” – Steve McQueen

The film’s subject matter is so powerful and hard-hitting, which makes Fassbender’s withdrawn performance all the more impressive. Brandon doesn’t speak much, and when he does the subject matter never really has any depth. There’s a scene early on in which his sister Sissy tries to ask for help, Brandon ignores all of the important questions and talks about breakfast. There’s almost a monotony about Brandon when around other people that seem to be close to him; a wall that tries to stop people getting too intimate. This wall has seemingly worked, but fails with his sister. The relationship between Brandon and his Sissy is complex. The two characters differ so much. Brandon is an introvert who has made himself as independent as possible in order to hide his addiction and the shame he feels toward it while Sissy is an extroverted exhibitionist who needs to feel loved, and this need for love and attention turns into dependencies; she is caught calling one-night stands repeatedly and wanting more than is on offer. It’s this unashamed neediness that succeeds in breaking through Brandon’s wall where others fail. That’s not to say their relationship works, it is clearly the most dysfunctional relationship in the film and suggests that both parties need to question boundaries, but there are moments when Sissy inadvertently causes Brandon to attempt to change his way of life.

In a film which never shies away from full frontal nudity or sex scenes, it is, in fact, the subtlety that really provides makes this film as powerful as it is. Brandon never seeks help or announces “I’m Brandon and I am a sex addict!” He deals with his personal problem personally and it is never spoken about. There is a moment in which Sissy performs a song at a club, and Brandon, who has avoided watching her for so long, listens and cries a single silent tear. The reason that her rendition of Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” could bring a grown man to tears is never explained, but left to the audience: is it pride in his sister? Is it the lyrics in the song striking a connection within him? This is a credit to Abi Morgan, the writer, keeping the film so in tune with the main character, but the subtlety isn’t confined to the script. McQueen often holds his shots for long periods of time. Scenes often rely heavily on long shots resting the responsibility for the scene on the shoulders of the cast and the locations (the backdrop often has as much to say as Brandon) as opposed to relying on cinematic trickery.

The film mixes a powerful subject matter and a no-holes-barred, unashamed way of putting it onto the screen with a sensitivity in the way it portrays the characters. It’s the right balance found that makes this film as compelling as it is.

Written by Edward L. Corrigan on 01/02/2012