Steve McQueen’s latest cinematic offering, Shame, is an unflinching examination of the reality of sexual addiction. The film follows Brandon, a thirty-something New Yorker whose voracious sexual appetite prevents him from forging meaningful relationships.
On the surface Brandon (Michael Fassbender) seems fortunate; he’s good-looking, has a well-paid job and an expensive apartment. But beneath that superficial veneer he is as helpless as any addict. When he’s not moving from one unfulfilling sexual encounter to the next, Brandon whiles away his days trawling through internet porn sites. His illness even plagues him at work where his computer is eventually confiscated as a result of the unsavoury content found on his hard-drive.
The sterile white-washed environment of Brandon’s expensive one-bedroom Manhattan apartment is an apt symbol for his isolation. He relies on no one and expects the same in return.
All this changes, however, with the arrival of his wayward younger sister, Sissy (Carey Mulligan) who invades Brandon’s carefully constructed world, and demands the support her brother is so unwilling to offer. With an unexpected houseguest Brandon finds himself unable to cope with his rigorous sexual routine and begins to question his unfulfilling lifestyle.
Shame is a masterful portrayal of addiction. The gratuitous nature of the seemingly unending, almost pornographic sex-scenes communicates perfectly Brandon’s all-consuming desire. In addition, an outstanding soundtrack contributes to the sense of Brandon’s cruel isolation, especially the classical piece which accompanies him jogging alone in the dead of night.
Fassbender makes a thoroughly believable sex-addict, giving an exquisite performance as a man who experiences a great deal of pain in his unrelenting pursuit of pleasure. The relationship between Brandon and his sister, Sissy, around which the film revolves, is beautiful in its subtlety. Fassbender and Mulligan succeed completely in portraying the strange combination of closeness and conflict which occurs exclusively between siblings.
Perhaps Shame’s greatest strength is that every viewer can relate to it on some level. Brandon’s uncontrollable consumption and inability to form meaningful attachments are extreme reflections of modern-day living, a form of fractured isolation to which we are all subject.
Reviewed at Filmhouse