“It is hard to understand addiction unless you have experienced it.” – Ken Hensley
8/10
review written by Andrei Sipos on the 10th of April 2012
Addiction is a powerful thing; it can take over a person’s life and not let go until it’s far too late to fight back. Virtually everybody can relate to the concept of addiction in one way or another, and for most of us it’s part of our lives to some degree, whether we realise it or not, and whether we like it or not. It can come in many shapes and forms, drawing from both pain and pleasure. In
Shame, Brandon’s addiction comes in the form of pleasure; the very basic and arguably most potent type of pleasure known to us humans: that of sexual gratification.
Marking
Steve McQueen’s second directorial venture to the big screen,
Shame depicts the self-destructive lifestyle of New York sex addict Brandon Sullivan (played by
Michael Fassbender). Brandon goes through life viciously giving in to his sexual needs and urges; he engages in promiscuous sex with women, browses the web for porn both at home and at work, masturbates on a regular basis, and frequently resorts to the services of call girls.
Unlike a normal person, though, Brandon’s lust is hardly ever sated, and it is made clear from the start of the film that his addiction is getting in the way of both his personal life and his career. When it comes to work, his careless indulgence in pornography at his office computer ends up having it taken away in order to be scanned for viruses. As for his life away from work, Brandon is seen ignoring the countless calls made to him by his sister (
Carey Mulligan) – up to the point where she finally ends up at his doorstep, consequently disrupting his habitual way of life.
Shame is Fassbender’s second collaboration with McQueen – the previous being
Hunger, McQueen’s feature debut as a director – and the partnership between the two seems to be working out so well that it might come to rival actor-director duos such as DiCaprio and Scorsese as time goes on. Michael Fassbender has no doubt been very productive recently, having starred in no less than five feature films in 2011. One might naturally expect a loss of quality due to the sheer amount of work he has done, but his acting remains remarkably solid throughout each of his starring roles, and
Shame is certainly no different. If anything, Fassbender turns in one of the greatest performances of the year here, delivering a truly heart-rending and powerful depiction of a tragic character.

Steve McQueen has a quality which many directors seem to lack nowadays – the ability to tell a compelling story through the eyes of its characters, and subsequently through the performance of the actors. Through the use long single takes, well calculated close-ups and tactical cuts, McQueen gives Michael Fassbender free rein to express the emotional agony, torment and subtle self-pity caused by Brandon’s pressing addiction, and Fassbender does so in a commendable manner, skilfully capturing both his character’s physicality and his psychological anguish. There’s a scene towards the end of the film where Brandon breaks down, overcome by his addiction and desperate to escape it; Fassbender is utterly convincing here, displaying a vulnerability rarely – if ever – seen in him before, in a moment that is Oscar-worthy in itself.
Michael Fassbender is not the only actor that stands out in
Shame, though. Carey Mulligan impresses a great deal as well, delivering a notable performance in the role of Brandon’s younger sister, who we learn throughout the movie to be as equally troubled as him. Having previously starred in the good girl role in films such as
An Education,
Never Let Me Go and
Drive, her role in
Shame marks a welcome departure for Mulligan, and she certainly proves that she can pull these types of roles off just as well. Up-and-coming actress
Nicole Beharie also deserves a mention for her brief appearance as one of Brandon’s co-workers who ends up going with him on a dinner date.
Shame is arguably a film about feeling and perception, but it also has a picturesque quality going for it. Sharing a visual style as distinct as the one in
Hunger, this movie is sure to stick to memory for that alone. New York’s glitz and glamour are traded in here for a darker approach to the globally popular American metropole; McQueen’s New York is a gloomy one – a New York mostly shrouded by the underlying loneliness of the urban nightlife, and rarely (and very restrainedly) seeing the light of day.
Contributing to the bleak image painted by McQueen is
Harry Escott’s score, which while some may argue to be not entirely original (see Hans Zimmer’s work on
The Thin Red Line), is highly effective and thoroughly well-placed. Never before has a seemingly ordinary subway flirt between two people felt so menacing and ominous, and rarely ever has a man’s descent into self-inflicted misery felt as tragic and momentous as it does in
Shame. Steve McQueen’s film demonstrates an all too keen understanding of the inner workings of the human mind, making it one of the year’s best and most noteworthy pieces of cinema.