Michael Fassbender—all of him
This has been the year of Michael Fassbender. In 2011 alone, he’s starred in four high-profile movies, including X-Men: First Class, Jane Eyre and A Dangerous Method. But his reunion with director Steve McQueen on the film Shame— McQueen gave him his first big break in Hunger—is his finest work of the year. This is also likely the film that’ll be seen by the fewest people, due to the NC-17 rating, graphic sex scenes and up-close, full-frontal images of Fassbender and his, um, bender.
Why so much sex? Mostly because Brandon, the character he plays, is a good-looking professional Manhattanite who’s also a sex addict. He surfs porn all day at work and all night at home. He jerks off with a frequency that must be painful. He’s always on the lookout for someone to have a flirt or a romp with at any time, whether he’s on the street, the subway or the Internet. He lives alone, spends his days doing some kind of work for his irritating boss, David (James Badge Dale), and is an absolutely miserable person. He’s not a bad person, necessarily; he’s just someone who knows how wretched his behavior is, whether he’s locking himself in a stall in the company restroom or trying to hook up during his morning commute with a woman wearing an engagement ring. The thing is, when he’s not acting on impulse, he’s managing to rationalize his lifestyle, mostly by isolating himself.
Change is thrust upon him, however, when his sister, Cissy (Carey Mulligan), moves in, uninvited, and throws off Brandon’s carefully balanced equilibrium. She’s needy, flighty, selfish and desperate for attention from her brother, which he is desperate to avoid providing. Everything she does unravels the tightly wound world her brother has created, and soon Brandon finds himself coming apart at the seams, saying and doing things he—and the audience—finds abhorrent. The movie’s called Shame for a reason.
There’s a lot of sex in the film, but very little of it is sexy. Shame—opening Friday, Dec. 9, at Hillcrest Cinemas—is more like anti-porn, because Brandon does what he does from compulsion rather than pleasure— he never enjoys the act, and it’s awful to watch him perform, even when he’s, say, getting it on with a pair of attractive hookers.
This speaks to the quality of Fassbender’s daring performance. He’s clearly put his trust in McQueen, who hasn’t let him down. The director sits back with his camera and just watches, composing extended shots that allow Fassbender and his co-stars to really work. Sometimes these are casual scenes, sometimes sexual, and the sense of voyeurism you get in the awkwardness and discomfort of the situations Brandon puts himself in is entirely intentional.
The toughest moments are those when he’s confronted with emotional realities, with women he feels he should be interested in, with his sister’s encroachment on his space or with his boss’ encroachment on his sister. Brandon blocks all of those things out with sex, using it as more than just a way to feed his need, but also to avoid his life, shallow though it may be. He’s broken, not much good to anyone, especially himself.
For his part, McQueen has crafted a real piece of art, though it’s certainly possible that it will be mostly overlooked by those who can’t see past the NC-17 rating or Fassbender’s genitals.
Certainly, it’s reminiscent of 1969’s Midnight Cowboy, the only X-rated film to ever win the Best Picture Oscar, though that film is PG-13 compared with Shame. But people should see it, because underneath our repressed, puritanical veneer, we’re a nation of sex maniacs, voyeurs, adulterers, oglers, gropers, romantics, sensualists, role players and addicts. McQueen and Fassbender push the envelope and our buttons in Shame, but it’s only because all of us have a little shame of our own.
http://www.sdcitybeat.com/sandiego/article-9911-michael-fassbender-bares-body-and-soul-in-shame.html
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