Music, Style & Culture

LFF 2011: Shame

With Fassbender's intensity and McQueen's eye, this had the potential makings of a masterpiece.

Hunger director Steve McQueen reunites with Michael Fassbender for his second feature, a haunting look at a compulsive sex addict and his tense, fractured relationship with his sister.

Like the recently released Drive, Shame features a vague, taciturn, morally-dubious protagonist and Carey Mulligan. Unlike Drive, Shame is an intense, considered work that hits harder; Fassbender's performance is deeply layered and lingers long in the mind.

To side-step the fact that the otherwise gifted actor slips into his native brogue during heated moments, Fassbender plays Brandon as an Irishman who relocated to New Jersey as a child. The successful executive lives alone in a glacial New York apartment, and is addicted to emotionally detached sex, be it with one night stands, prostitutes, or himself in the work toilet cubicle. His only friend appears to be his boss David (James Badge Dale), displayed as a boorish predator. As provocative as McQueen's film is in its harsh portrayal of sex addiction, he lets slip some well-worn clichés; none better than Brandon's expected swooping-up of David's glamorous lost prey.

When Brandon's Bohemian sister Sissy (Mulligan) comes to stay, it clashes with his Patrick Bateman-esque routine of prostitutes, porn and pick-ups, and lends the viewer some disturbing insight into Brandon's backstory. Abi Morgan's frank script deliberately asks more questions than it answers, with Fassbender and Mulligan's scenes are dripping with tension. It's not only Fassbender who bares all in more ways than one - Sissy's introduction sees her fully naked without embarrassment in front of her brother, and their subsequent arguments become increasingly and worryingly aggressive. Mulligan, admirably handling a New Jersey accent, is hugely compelling as the needy, emotionally-troubled blues singer.

Rarely is there a film of this class where graphic sex scenes tell the story, but McQueen's depiction of Brendan's encounters are cleverly revealing - Fassbender may go down in history as the only actor to earn an Oscar nomination for his orgasm faces. There is little that is erotic about Brandon's clinical bouts of passion, bar his attempts at a "normal" date with a work colleague, Marianne (Nicole Beharie) and the subsequent moments of tenderness. In one of the few scenarios where Brandon has an actual conversation, Marianne has to listen to his fears of marriage and intimacy, but Morgan's script fails to go deeper than the "all marriages fail" schtick - it's left to the riveting Fassbender and his steely eyes to plead with us.

McQueen touches on ambiguity in an early scene with a woman on the subway (Lucy Walters, very effective in a silent supporting role), which calls into question Brandon's perceived powers of seduction. However, it wraps up as a more straightforward drama, heavily focused on Brandon's life with Sissy. For a film that starts out without judgment, McQueen later takes a curious moral high ground, entering dangerous Gaspar Noé territory; a same sex encounter is depicted as desperate, dangerous and sleazy, while just minutes later McQueen films a threesome involving two bisexual women in a romanticised, almost beatific light. Although, it does provide us with the most arresting depiction of Brandon's state of mind and Fassbender's most astonishing moment.

Technically, Shame is a wonder. McQueen goes for long, lingering shots, allowing his actors' faces to speak volumes. A tracking shot during Brandon's rage-induced jog through New York City is deceptively powerful. Harry Escott's elegant, dramatic score is derivative but highly evocative in this uncompromising look at sex in modern society. With Fassbender's intensity and McQueen's eye, this had the potential makings of a masterpiece. It's only let down by a script that's nowhere near as challenging as the artists themselves.

Rating: 8/10