Shame

An emotionally complex masterpiece, the likes of which have not been seen in a long time (especially within the genre). Steve McQueen, much like Woody Allen, revolves around societal relationship issues, but in a completely different way. He is shocking, he is perverse, he is minimalist and intense. Flawless in terms of acting, in terms of visuals, New York is squeezed to the maximum, and the music is brilliant. A magnificent musical motif for such a minimalist film, and yet it works. It would be difficult to improve anything. A film that defines the 21st century on a social level a work of art. (06/06/2013)

Shame is a very realistic, at times almost salacious, probe into the life of a man who is obsessed with sex, unashamed of it, but circumstances demand that he re-evaluate his current (and really empty) life. The performances are breathtaking, with both Michael Fassbender and Carey Mulligan tackling their roles with bravado and verve. While the story isn't exactly perfect (at least for me), it is often chilling, mainly because of the level of authenticity. I must also commend Harry Escott's seemingly bland but all the more depressing score. All in all, a film that, while it didn't blow me away or put me on my ass (as many have), is still worth a watch. (06/27/2013)

Whether you wake up alone in the morning, next to a steady partner, or with someone different every day, Shame attacks the core of each of us. Brandon's behavior may start out as just a casual walk with various sexual undertones, but the last half hour takes all the psychological weight and throws it into the viewer's lap. The mental pain, which increasingly radiates from Michael Fassbender's eyes, didn't repel me or destroy me, but instead incredibly fascinated me. A film that only in the last seconds definitively proves how complex and deep it is. (07/28/2012)

Emotional deprivation, bandaged in vain with more than just casual sex, can never do anyone any good. I liked that Steve McQueen didn't mess around with it – he just took a knife, stuck it in the flesh, and gouged and gouged until the wound was so gaping it could hardly be healed. I am referring now to the overall feeling of the film and the really very "nice" fate of the main character. An attitude and a world in which love and moral principles have completely disappeared, leaving only something dubiously empty – physically satisfying for the first few tries, but utterly unable to quench the desperate thirst for mental satisfaction. In some ways, this is also how you could characterize the group of (a)socials (I deliberately did not say (a)social group) that Steve McQueen targets in his second film. Michael Fassbender is convincing and his acting is really excellent. Yet rather than being an "intimate and personal look at the life of a very sexually frustrated man", the whole film struck me as a parallel to Western, consumerist society that simply doesn't know what to do, so it seeks out all sorts of hobbies. Of course, it will be slightly more complicated in the end (I wouldn’t have it any other way, otherwise they wouldn't make dramas, only comedies :)) My point is more to suggest that even an ordinary bumpkin duo with below average incomes can be many times happier and more mentally balanced than many corporate elites. When you have money and a lean little apartment with an even leaner view in one of the busiest cities in the world, you just think about how and what way to escape boredom:) (05/02/2012)

Step by step toward self-destruction. To live for oneself. Without commitments and without meaning. We can’t take off the mask of cynicism, love doesn’t exist and sex ruins us. I basically agree with McQueen and I find it pleasing that he did not in any way soften his cold-blooded observational style, when he works with the human body as an objet d’art rather than as a vessel containing emotions, which break through to the surface only a few times and seemingly by mistake. Brandon otherwise thoroughly resists emotion and thanks only to his sister, the sole person for whom he truly feels anything (perhaps responsibility), he realises how fragile his protective shell is. He stubbornly (and with devastating consequences) refuses to accept his own vulnerability. There is no room for that in his world of strictly defined rules. With the exception of the condensed and riveting introduction and climax, the boldly long shots are unpleasant in that for most of the time they do not adopt the point of view of any of the characters, who thus do not tell the story, but are studied. The aim of this “unempathetic” means of filming is not verism (or voyeurism), however. On the contrary, the composition of the shots betrays a well-thought-out plan. Brandon and Sissy complement each other in a given shot, as if they are two faces of a single person (alongside the close-up of Brandon’s face in the bar, for example, his sister’s singing fills the empty space). With admirable effort, Fassbender continues to work at not being pigeonholed as another dime-a-dozen pretty boy. If anything, his mental and physical full frontal makes him a hope for the porn industry rather than a heart-throb. Nevertheless, the film itself is not pornographic. It isn’t provocative due to the extent of the nudity that it contains, but due to the naturalness with which it approaches human sexuality; it doesn’t try to elicit in viewers a feeling of shame over the nude human body. Pointing out the normality of sex and nudity suggests that Brandon’s abnormality doesn’t consist (only) in his obsession with sexual gratification. That is just one of the many symptoms of the disease of indifference from which society as a whole suffers. Appendix: As with Hunger,  I don’t want to see McQueen’s second film again anytime soon. Shame is devastating not only for the protagonist, but also for the viewer. 85% (02/08/2012)