Shame is an orgy of anguish, eroticism and people

Few movies start with the same vitality modelled by Shame. Its opening is an engrossing tapestry of underlying themes, complex relationships and a fine example of Steve McQueen’s ability as a director. And this rousing introduction starts with something as banal as catching a train.

As Brandon (Michel Fassbender) boards, he sees a women sitting opposite him. He stares at her—their eyes lock. She blushes, clutches her dress and crosses her legs. We see a ring. As the train comes to a halt, she stands. Brandon comes behind her, close enough for his breath to be felt on her neck. The doors part.

In his everyday life, Brandon looks for such opportunities to have sex. He jacks off on his work break, has sex in public and maintains a live video stream with a pornstar. But like a drug addict in constant pursuit of that first hit, is the euphoria of an orgasm the same the second time?

What if it’s the second time that day?

Unlike an addict, Brandon holds a steady office job, is well dressed and generally quiet. He goes for solitary runs at night and for all intents and purposes, comes off as a gentleman. He is the every-man.

But when his sister, Sissy (Carey Mulligan), stays with him for a few days, he grows to resent her for disturbing his abusive routine. She brings her colourful chaos into Brandon’s grey regime, and her presence forces Brandon to evaluate his constant need to have sex. Is he wrong for giving into his every desire?

Fassbander’s performance as Brandon is a brave one and yet another affirmation of his substance as an actor. There are a few scenes characterised by an absence of edits, where the camera is fixed on his entire body and he never falters. It’s Fassbender who holds the script’s seams together, unifying it with unwavering intrigue, portraying Brandon as conflicted, shallow and paralysed by anguish. Impressively Mulligan manages to match his excellence, shining in her own right when professing her love for an absent lover, and again during a harrowing rendition of New York, New York.

Shame is the rarest of good movies. It’s exquisitely crafted—each shot and angle is not without purpose—but in a society indulging in online porn, polygamy and risqué sex, its subject matter is confronting, and as famed critic Roger Ebert points out, would be tough to watch a second time. Like Sissy, it is our rendition of colourful chaos, asking us if we give into our desires one time too many.  

Tony Ibrahim

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