Movie of the Week – Hunger

This week’s movie: Hunger (2008)

In 1981, the IRA undertook a hunger strike, led by Bobby Sands, to protest the British Government withdrawal of Special Category Status for convicted paramilitary prisoners. This drama details the events and lives of the inmates in Maze Prison in Northern Ireland leading up to the hunger strike (the culmination of a five-year protest).

Hunger is the debut film from auteur Steve McQueen; it also might be his most artistic and powerful. McQueen has since become one of our greatest filmmakers, currently working, following up Hunger with Shame and 12 Years a Slave (which won a Best Picture Oscar earlier this year; it was also my favorite film of 2013). On Hunger, he worked with composers Leo Abrahams and David Holmes, cinematographer Sean Bobbitt (who has shot all three of McQueen’s films) and production designer Tom McCullagh.

The film stars Michael Fassbender (serving as one of his breakthrough projects, along with Fish Tank and Inglourious Basterds), and features Stuart Graham and Liam Cunningham in support. Fassbender has appeared in all three of McQueen’s films.

Hunger is evocative as it artistically takes on the horror of life in the prison and the violence the guards faced outside of it. The prisoners are savagely treated, as they seek to be recognized as political prisoners, not common criminals. Outside the prison, the guards live in constant fear of retaliation by the IRA. McQueen, a Turner Prize winning artist, takes on the historical period with an unflinching eye. Fassbender plays Bobby Sands with such dedication, undergoing a medically supervised crash diet to achieve the look of starvation. It is haunting. Fassbender and Cunningham, playing a scene between Sands and Father Dominic Moran, deliver one of the most compelling long-takes in cinematic history. The film won the Golden Camera and the FIPRESCI Prize at the 2008 Cannes Film Festival. It is a magnificent film, showcasing the beauty and artistry of the medium while also capturing the raw brutality and tension of the period. It is a must-see for fans of independent cinema and those looking to see modern masterpieces.

Trailer: Here

Available on: Blu-ray and Video On-Demand

LeapBackBlog 2013 Film Awards – Part 1: Technical Achievements

Film in 2013 was fantastic. We saw tons of wonderful performances, powerfully emotional dramas, hysterical comedies, gripping thrillers, big and entertaining blockbusters, and grand technical achievements. This year was particularly difficult in narrowing down my choices for my favorite films, performances, directors, and technical accomplishments. For example, I loved Amy Acker in Much Ado About Nothing and Oscar Isaac in Inside Llewyn Davis, but neither quite made the list, and the same can be said for David O. Russell’s wonderful directing in American Hustle or Hoyte Van Hoytema’s sublime cinematography in Her (both just missing out on the list, when they would have made it in most other years). And, there are a number of good films that did not make the list either (and a few I have not yet seen). As it stands, the LeapBackBlog Film Awards are made up, through difficult deliberation, of the films that entertained me and grabbed me as something special, the performances that engaged me, and the craftsmanship that delighted me. These are my favorites of 2013.

Part 2: Supporting Performances

Part 3: Directors

Part 4: Leading Performances

Part 5: Films

Arcade Fire & Owen Pallett – Score – her

Her is a film that address emotions we all struggle with and openly embrace when it comes to our relationship hopes, dreams, and fears. Arcade Fire and Owen Pallett (as well as some additional contributions from Karen O) deliver a score that fits these emotions as well as the hip aesthetic of the film. Her has a cool pop-culture quality to it, and thus it is only fitting that Arcade Fire would be scoring the film. Their music fits the ambiance wonderfully, while also adding an additional emotional accent. It is wistfully optimistic, in that there is an inherent sadness (as there is with the main character Theodore) but also a real hope that happiness and true connection is still a possibility (here is their song Supersymmetry, written for the film).

K.K. Barrett – Production Design – her

K.K. Barrett has made a career out of making films that feature a fresh, modern, and sophisticatedly cool style (things like Being John Malkovich, Adaptation., Lost in Translation, Marie Antoinette, and Where the Wild Things Are). He does the same again with Her. From the costume design, set decoration, and set design/locations to the lighting, the film has a brilliant aesthetic of bright solid colors that pop against the mundane of normal life. Barrett does not just create his art for the sake of being art; it also fits really well with the film’s narrative. Theodore just wants to find connection, when he feels so alone. With his bright shirts, he is always singled out in the frame, amplifying the sense that he is separate from the world around him. Barrett’s design work in Her is extraordinarily cool (I want to live in Theodore’s world – his apartment, his office, the restaurant he goes on a date too – everything is so interesting and artistically compelling).

Judy Becker – Production Design – American Hustle

American Hustle is a film that will likely be best remembered for its standout performances, but also for its fabulous production design (and costume design, courtesy of Michael Wilkinson). The whole affair is grand game of dress up with outrageous hair styles and extravagant costumes, but Judy Becker’s work does something magical. It completely embraces the con-man genre and all the shenanigans that come with it, while also grounding the film in what feels like a realistic world. She offers a backdrop that is playfully nostalgic with a sense of realism as well (given the world of the narrative). It is splendid work.

Sean Bobbitt – Cinematography – 12 Years a Slave

12 Years a Slave is a heartbreaking tale of Solomon Northrup’s perseverance in the most treacherous and humiliating years of his life – a free man tricked and sold into slavery. Sean Bobbitt’s cinematography is beautiful as he uses natural lighting to great effect. The Louisiana plantations that Solomon finds himself tethered to feel lazily sublime and even whimsical through Bobbitt’s photography, remarkably juxtaposed to the horrors that Solomon witnesses and is forced to endure. But there is also a tension and inner darkness to Bobbit’s work as well, as if this exquisite backdrop only exists as a thin veil desperately trying to conceal a rotten and decaying society – a façade to hide pure evil (similarly to the way the film shows that really the true villain of the South is the honorable man who simply abides and takes part in slavery – who is more a villain Ford or Epps?). Bobbitt’s collaborations with Steve McQueen have and continue to produce some of cinema’s finest work. And, on a side note, Bobbitt’s photography for The Place Beyond the Pines was also very good.

Bruno Delbonnel – Cinematography – Inside Llewyn Davis

It is no secret that Bruno Delbonnel is one of my five favorite active cinematographers (along with Emmanuel Lubezki, Roger Deakins, Wally Pfister, and Robert D. Yeoman). He continues to bring his style of color saturated photography to the films he works on with such an elegant mastery. With Inside Llewyn Davis, he gives the film a feel and look that is almost surreal but at the same time very fitting for the time period and place (1960s Greenwich Village). It echoes the sadness of the film, while still adding a resonating beauty. It is phenomenal work.

Emmanuel Lubezki – Cinematography – Gravity

One might ask: “Why does Gravity feature 2013’s most impressive cinematography? All the visuals are created digitally.” Simple, while Emmanuel Lubezki and director Alfonso Cuaron worked with the visual effects team to create the look of Space, Lubezki still painstakingly needed to match everything that happens in the visual effects, lighting wise, on the actors’ faces when they were filmed live – no small task (in fact, a very difficult task). Lubezki’s lighting is perfect, beautiful, and enthralling. His collaborations with Cuaron continue to push the boundary of what is possible in film.

Anthony Dod Mantle – Cinematography – Rush

A lot of what makes Rush a great sports drama is its atmosphere of high stakes. Anthony Dod Mantle’s brilliant digital photography gives the film all the atmosphere it can handle. His work creates a thrilling and realistic experience for the audience, often giving them the feeling that they are right there with the drivers, whipping around the track. His ability to mix his footage with actual footage seamlessly is also paramount to the film’s perceived realism and ability to pull the audience into its narrative. As much as I like and support film still being shot on film, Dod Mantle continues to make a strong argument for digital.

Steven Price – Score – Gravity

Gravity is an exciting, intense film. Steven Price’s score works perfectly with the visuals and emotions of the film, creating an ‘edge of your seat’ experience for the audience. The music also captures the feeling of isolation very well. There is a removed sense to it, a sadness that comes from being lost and alone (the piece entitled Don’t Let Go is a good example). Working with director Alfonso Cuaron, Price plays with his score as well. There are moments in which he blows it out to jolt and captivate the audience. It is wonderful work. And, on a side note, his score for The World’s End is very good too.

Adam Stockhausen – Production Design – 12 Years a Slave

Adam Stockhausen’s production design in 12 Years a Slave is paramount to the film’s success, as he must create a world that feels as honest and natural as possible. He does this and more. The film looks and feels real, which only pulls the audience further into the narrative and emotional power of the film. Solomon’s world is bright in the North as a free man, but when he finds himself enslaved his world becomes utterly bleak. His cramped, dark, and decrepit world is presented in the shadow of the grand homes of his masters. Stockhausen is able to put the audience in Solomon’s place, making the experience all the more devastating, haunting, and ultimately uplifting (in that Solomon does preserver in the face of everything that would strive to bring him down).

Hans Zimmer – Score – 12 Years a Slave

Hans Zimmer’s score for 12 Years a Slave is probably my favorite of 2013. Not because it is necessarily the best composed music (though, it is quite elegant and moving – his piece entitled Solomon comes to mind), but because Zimmer also employs incredibly raw (almost off-putting) distorted noise as well to create a very visceral and unnerving experience (the score used during the riverboat scene when its paddlewheel is thrashing is particularly intense). It is this modern musical aesthetic applied to what is otherwise a very naturalistic period piece that stands out and is so striking. It is ambitious and brilliant work from Zimmer, collaborating with director Steve McQueen. Zimmer also provided great musical scores for Man of Steel, The Lone Ranger, and Rush in 2013.

12 Years a Slave (2013) – Review

Review: 12 Years a Slave is harrowing and powerful character drama. The film is about Solomon Northup, a free black man living in 1841 Saratoga, NY, who is tricked into traveling south to Washington D.C. where he is drugged, kidnapped, and sold into slavery. This is a true story.

There first thing that stands out about director Steve McQueen’s film is that it is unflinching in its portrayal of the conditions these unfortunate souls faced. McQueen does not exaggerate the violence or the evil for dramatic effect, rather the film is very much grounded in reality, which is probably what makes it all the more affecting.

Structurally, 12 Years a Slave feels like a grand story (similar to films such as Lawrence of Arabia or The Curious Case of Benjamin Button), as it is sweeping narrative following Northup over the course of many years, in multiple locations, and engaging with a myriad of characters. And like many grand stories, this is a film about the perseverance of human spirit in the face of the shameful, vile abomination of man’s capacity to commit evil against his fellow man.

Northup has two primary owners. The first is seemingly a good man (Ford), while the second is filled with malice intent (Epps). However, what is striking about McQueen’s look at slavery is that Ford might just be the bigger villain. Epps is a crazed maniac whose own shortcomings bleed out in the form of violence towards his slaves. Ford on the other hand genuinely seems to know that slavery is wrong (on some level), and yet is complicit in it as a tool to forward his own business interests and livelihood. Epps is merely just a bad, troubled man, but Ford knows better. This is the terrifying truth that McQueen gets at: yes, there were/are evil men in this world but it is the indifference of the good that truly allows atrocity to occur.

Northup meets many characters – some good, some bad, each with a different view of life. And yet, all are to some extent apathetic towards what holding humans in bondage really means. The white slave owners to varying degrees buy into the idea that these men are of a lessor human value and thus viewing them as property is not such a reach, and the slaves themselves are for the most part subservient to their unfortunate plight. What happened to moral good, above all of man’s laws? Northup is constantly out of step, as he will just not accept his fate. Through Northup, McQueen showcases reprehensible brutality as nothing more than a social and economic system in play – each party merely enacting their part. This is what is frightening. Northup is disgusted by the abhorrence of his situation, and that perspective is translated to the audience who is completely invested in him (due to very strong character work), but to those more familiar with the situation (i.e. whites and blacks that have grown up in the system) it is just normal daily life. The whites stand supreme over their plantations, inflated by their social, political, and economic status while their slaves cower, their will long broken.

Northup is the guiding light through the fog of forgotten morals. McQueen’s film feels so realistic that the audience too seems to lose hope and simply comply with the order of this awful world, too exhausted and beaten down to fight. Only Northup stands tall. He is different. He just will not fully summit. There are a number of moments in which his situation seems lost, as he comes to fully understand just what humanity is capable of in this warped society. But, he never does give up. The film, as bleak as it may feel, is ultimately uplifting. He survives, one of the few.

Quentin Tarantino’s Django Unchained, while a revenge fantasy, does go out of its way to explicitly detail the horrors of slavery – the cruelty, the abject character, and plain hateful nature of slave owners. It is effective in its intended conveyance. With 12 Years a Slave, McQueen is to some extent making the same film as Tarantino. He wants to comment on the capability of man to commit evil using slavery as his foil. However, as good as Django Unchained is, 12 Years a Slave is much more successful at engaging the audience on an emotional level. The film does not go for guilt (that is unreasonable at this point). It does not go for sympathy, at least from a perspective of a third party commenting on how awful it must have been. No, McQueen wants his audience to viscerally feel the anguish, the humiliation. What it is to be meaningless and truly without hope. His film is unflinching because he wants his film to not just tell a story but to be an experience (maybe to shake humanity out of its apathy). McQueen has made a film that regardless of the viewer’s background makes them feel like they are the ones in bondage (if only for a moment). It is deeply disturbing and utterly sad, but in the end hopeful that humanity can find a way back.

12 Years a Slave excels aesthetically and in all aspects of its filmmaking and performances. It is a character drama that fully pulls the audience in, infests their souls, and opens them up to the heartbreaking reality that so many faced (and continue to face in some parts of the world). Solomon Northup was amazingly lucky and also devastatingly unlucky.

Technical, aesthetic & acting achievements: Auteur Steve McQueen is among today’s most brilliant filmmakers. His films just seem to have an innate power to them, a volatile emotional connection that grabs their viewers bringing them to an impassioned climax (be it sadness, joy, anger). Hunger and Shame are fantastic works, but both exist more in the fringe of independent film (mostly unseen by average moviegoers). 12 Years a Slave is his most accessible work (in some ways it is a Hollywood prestige film), and yet it does not feel diminished in any way dramatically. McQueen keeps his edge, which is wonderfully refreshing.

Hans Zimmer’s score for the film is fully immersive. More than any other piece of film-music this year, his score interacts with the viewer on a deeply affecting emotional level. It incites a fevered erupting of emotion. While 12 Years a Slave is impressive in all aspects, Zimmer’s score seems to aspire to something more. Even without its accompanying images, it is a powerfully dynamic composition.  Sean Bobbitt’s cinematography is excellent. The film is lit mostly with natural light, Bobbitt employing candlelight in many scenes to great effect (giving the film a similar look, though darker tonally, to Stanley Kubrick’s Barry Lyndon). McQueen and Bobbitt (in their third collaboration) also use some very aggressively combative images (like the trashing wheel of the riverboat) to actively agitate the viewer in the early scenes, but later in the film they use much more peaceful transition shots (mostly of a blazing sky over the Louisiana swamp). Even in the film’s transitions and place-markers, McQueen is engaged in an emotional dialog with the audience. Adam Stockhausen’s production design is wonderful as well. The look of the film creates an overall feeling or realism, paramount to the success of the narrative. An interesting thing I noticed is that, the viewer never leaves Northup, and thus the design is focused to the areas that he inhabits. The audience almost never sees the inside of any of the great mansions that overlook the plantations (aside from a couple dance scenes, featuring cramped conditions). Northup’s world as a slave is dark, damp, and seemingly void of hope juxtaposed to the more flamboyant colors that free men often favor. Zimmer, Bobbitt, and Stockhausen each produce work that is among the year’s best in their disciplines.

As exceptional as the directing, writing, music, design, photography, and overall aesthetic composition of the film is, 12 Years a Slave is still a film built on its performances. However, it mostly features small bit parts (many great actors having only but a moment of screen time). While all the performances in the film are strong, a few of these small performances stand out. Scoot McNairy and Taran Killam play Brown and Hamilton, Northup’s initial kidnappers. They have such a joyful exuberance that it is shocking when they turn out to be bad men. They do a wonderful job of ripping the audience out of their comfort zone (which the subsequent scenes only build on). Chris Chalk and Michael K. Williams are the next to serve the role of introducing the audience and Northup to the sheer reality of his situation from very different perspectives. Adepero Oduye plays her character’s sadness with such a heartbreaking hopelessness, weighing on Northup. Paul Giamatti plays a slave salesman. His frank delivery is unnerving as he sells humans as if they were beasts. Benedict Cumberbatch plays Ford, a man who appears noble and good, but is really just a coward. Paul Dano (seemingly recapturing a little of his There Will Be Blood character’s uneasy energy) becomes Northup’s first obstacle, as he plays a man of deficiency who cannot bear to be upstaged by a slave. Sarah Paulson plays Epps’s wife. She is just as awful and hateful (again conveying the total disregard that slave owners had for their slaves). And finally, Brad Pitt plays a white man in the South unafraid to speak out against the inhumanity and moral wrongs of slavery. Lupita Nyong’o and Michael Fassbender feature in true supporting roles. Nyong’o plays Patsey, a slave who has the unwanted affection of Epps and the scorn of his wife. She is brilliant in the role. She suffers to such an extent that she only wishes for death. Fassbender plays Epps. He has such an intense energy that his mere presence is intimidating. He inflicts mental and physical fury as to keep his slaves in a constant state of dread. They wilt before him (all but Northup). He is malevolent bitterness personified, but what is great about Fassbender’s performance is that just calling him evil is too easy. There is something much deeper corrupting his soul. Chiwetel Ejiofor is a beacon of strength as Solomon Northup. To some extent, he cannot get out of his own way. He just cannot keep his head down and conform to the shadows. While the film tries its very best to emotionally break each viewer, Northup seems as though he can bear any load. He will persevere and by doing so the audience is able to emerge from the film hopeful. Ejiofor has so many wow moments in the film (form a performance standpoint), but the one that stands out for me is his finally engaging in song at the burial of a slave who collapsed while picking cotton. Everything just seems hopeless. Watching this man die from exhaustion to the complete disregard of everyone else seems like it might finally be the final straw for Northup. He looks defeated, but during the song he again finds his will, his strength.

Summary & score: 12 Years a Slave is a profound cinematic experience, piercing into the viewer’s soul. 9/10

The Place Beyond the Pines (2013) – Review

Review: The Place Beyond the Pines is a moody character drama built on strong performances. The film is broken into three parts. The first deals with a motorcycle stunt rider (Luke) who turns to crime in order to try and provide for his family. Part two involves Avery, a rookie cop who is frustrated by the corruption in his department and his decision to do something about it. And, part three revolves around the children of Luke and Avery (Jason and AJ, respectively) and how their different backgrounds inform their present lives (taken place about fifteen years later) in the wake of the decisions their fathers’ made.

Writer-director Derek Cianfrance seems to want to tell an epic tale of America – as the dramatic scope of this film is quite immense in terms of how many character-centric stories he fits in. There are four different main characters, each with their own dramatic narrative. Yet, scale wise the film is very small. The narratives are all localized to Schenectady, NY, and they each focus on the emotional turmoil and journey of the characters. It has a timeless quality to it as well – and really could have been set at any point in American history.

The film specifically feels like an American tale because, in addition to taking place in a typical American small town, it deals with the aspirations of its characters to seek out a better life for themselves (at least in regards to Luke, Avery, and Jason). Each has a specific want, and they pursue it – Luke wants to have a family (though somewhat naively) and take care of them financially so he begins robbing banks to make money (because he does not know another way); Avery is ambitious and somewhat arrogant in his on self-righteous vanity so he turns to ratting out other cops (which is always deemed a negative, when in some regard he is doing the right thing) so that he can forward his career (not seeing another way); and, Jason wants to know about his father (something that he needs to feel complete).

The character of AJ however is different. There is maybe a spark of ambition in him at the end, but he seems to be a comment on or the embodiment of the new generation of American entitlement – those that think they just deserve respect, money, power, and etcetera just for existing, which is very contradictory to the classic ‘America Dream’ narrative, to which almost all the other characters (good or bad) seem to prescribe (though, certainly there is a bit of this in Avery’s story as well). He is content to just be an ignorant young man, thinking things will just fall into place for him (and they very well might – depending on what his father does for him). This also reflects on the fact that his father is physically and emotional absent from his life. He does not have a role model to help shape his ambition so he turns to pop culture (which for him seems to be hip hop culture) – a poor choice, because by nature it is superficial.

AJ’s character also allows Cianfrance to comment on the class system in America. While Jason and AJ both attend the same high school – economically their parents lead very different lives. Cianfrance seems to identify much more with Jason and his family (his parents having to struggle to lead a decent life), as there is a certain level of detachment and even distain for what AJ’s family has become. Neither parent wants to deal with him, so they just leave him alone in Avery’s big expensive house, causing his feeling of entitlement and reliance on poor role models (them included).

Luke’s story sets in motion Avery’s, and Avery is too busy to raise his son properly. But what makes the film particularly powerful and interesting is that Cianfrance brings the narrative full circle, so to speak. Jason, whose pain is created by growing up without his real father (something Avery plays a role in as a cop), is the force that brings Avery and his son together ultimately – showing them how important they actually are to each other. Jason on the search for his father (who his father was) gives AJ his father. Thus, this really is a story of fathers and sons, and redemption.

Cianfrance aesthetically creates the world of the narrative to feel incredibly organic and real. Everything is steeped in realism – particularly the performances. There is not much action (with really only Luke’s bank-robbing escapades serving as ‘action’ sequences), nor does the narrative involve any grand schemes. Cianfrance just wants to look at these characters, leading fairly average lives – what drives them, what their fears are, what their hopes and dream are. His camera stays with the characters, maintaining a very intimate feel. He also does not rely on any narrative temporal tricks (which are overly commonplace in today’s narrative langue). He instead allows his epic to play out linearly, with faith that the performances and dramatic components will engage the audience throughout.

While for the most part the film does work very well, and is at times quite beautiful and moving, it does feel long as well. Cianfrance wants the film to have a very atmospheric/moody quality, and thus to achieve this it is also slow moving (as the narrative is not efficient in its storytelling). This is not overly detrimental, but certainly will cause some viewers to lose interest. The third part also does not play nearly as well as the first two dramatically (as the revenge narrative feels a bit out of place and exaggerated).

The Place Beyond the Pines is frustrating in a sense, because in moments it is a brilliant character piece that emotional engages its audience, while in others it loses it connection due to its lumbering pace and fumbling drama of part three (though, most of it is very good). However, for those willing to commit to the narrative, it is a fulfilling journey that, when it is at its best, is mesmerizing.

Technical, aesthetic & acting achievements: Derek Cianfrance, a few feature films into his career, has shown a great visual eye and sense of grandiose storytelling (whether that is a good thing or not, is a matter of opinion). I look forward to seeing what he does next, as he seems to have the makings of a great talent in American cinema.

Mike Patton’s score for the film, consisting mostly of atmospheric tones, works quite well – but Cianfrance is also overly reliant on it to emphasize the film’s moody tone. Sean Bobbitt’s photography is top notch, and maybe the most impressive aspect of the film. The opening shot especially is fantastic. The visual look, while muted and gritty, imposes a feel of realism. Inbal Weinberg’s production design is not flashy at all, nor was it meant to be – rather, he as well contributes to the overall realistic feel and look of the film.

The performances are paramount to The Place Beyond the Pines working, because Cianfrance has stripped pretty much everything else away. Eva Mendes, Ray Liotta, Rose Byrne, and Ben Mendelsohn are all strong in supporting roles. Mendelsohn is however the standout performer (maybe of the whole film). Emory Cohen (playing AJ) is noticeably the weakest of the four characters that at different times take the lead, but he still is good enough to momentarily carry the film. Dane DeHaan (Jason) is good as he is able to show the internal pain that he has growing up without knowing his real father. Ryan Gosling is also very good as Luke. (While the performance does somewhat remind me of his work in Drive,) his work here is layered. He naively thinks that he can take care of his family, while also having this romantic view of his outlaw lifestyle (which again plays into this feeling like an American tale) – of course he is destined to be a tragic character. He feels emotionally childlike at times (screeching at bank tellers as he carries out a robbery). Bradley Cooper (building off his excellent work in Silver Linings Playbook) is wonderful in this as well playing Avery. He hits all the right emotional moments to make his character one that the audience can both root for and also kind of despise (it is hard to do that).

Summary & score: While The Place Beyond the Pines is flawed, its ambition and brilliant moments carry the day. 8/10

Shame (2011) – Review

Review: Shame is dark, angry and unflinching. The film explores the effect that sex addiction has on a successful New York man, Brandon, and how his life (and routine) is disrupted when his sister (Sissy) shows up unannounced. At its core, this is a film built around a brilliant performance by its lead (Michael Fassbender), without which it would fail completely. Both Sissy and Brandon are damaged – but the audience not informed of why – and why is not important to this story. Writer-director Steve McQueen seems only interested in the immediate emotional toll of the addiction on Brandon, and how he seems to be completely disconnected from humanity. While there are glimpses at a normal life (and maybe even feeble attempts by Brandon for connection), he is a slave to his addiction and there is no pleasure in it. The film is affecting as it addresses pain in such a frank manner – it is right there for the audience, uninhibited. Plus, it is not veiled by reasons for the anguish Brandon feels – McQueen wants to look at the darkness straight on, without the stipulations for the audience to cling to and rationalize. As the film progresses, Brandon seems to become less and less human (even appearing as some sort of monster in one climatic scene which is the tail end of his decent seemingly deeper into the darkness – but what makes this film so haunting is that it is unclear if this is just an extreme episode or one of many, which seems to be the case). McQueen also unnervingly makes Brandon somewhat charming at moments, and even places moments of humor into the narrative – just enough to give Brandon a connection to the audience and enough light moments to relieve the tension momentarily. Sissy is the perfect character to crash into Brandon’s world. She is almost the complete opposite of Brandon. He does not want anyone to see, to really touch him on an emotional level. She is completely open with her emotions and intrudes on his world, in a sense making him look at himself, which he does not want to do. The heart of the story (and really the best moments) comes from the pressure that Sissy seemingly puts on him to be more normal, which comes crashing down. The narrative structure that McQueen uses is also interesting and works well with the material. While there is a character arc for Brandon, many of the scenes and sequences feel more like a series of clips of Brandon’s life, not a flowing moment by moment story. It is montage – piecing together specific moments creating the character and building the tension (though, the pacing is not going to work for everyone). But the rhythm that McQueen creates pulls in the viewer, and leaves them emotionally impacted (and this is the power of the film). The ambiguous ending (which seems to be especially popular among indies this year) puts the emotional determination in the hands of the audience (and is the perfect way to end it). Shame is graphic, but not because of the nudity – the emotional strain and look behind the curtain of a much darker psyche will affect the viewer (especially if you give yourself over to the film).

Technical, aesthetic & acting achievements: Steve McQueen, two films in, has established himself as a filmmaker who is not afraid to dive straight into deep and dark emotional issues. As with Hunger, he does not marginalize the emotional weight of his subject (and thus, his films are not going to appeal to those looking for light entertainment, because Shame is anything but that). He is one of the great auteur filmmakers of the new generation. Harry Escott’s score is very good (here is a suite). It hits the right emotional touchstones but is not overwhelming and does not detract from the performances. It picks up on the sadness of the isolation in Brandon’s life, going hand in hand with the pain and anger he feels. Sean Bobbitt’s cinematography is gritty and places the narrative very much in the real world. I liked the long takes in the film, as they reinforce Brandon’s solitariness and allow the score to reinforce the emotions. Judy Backer’s production design also places the narrative in the real world, and is gritty as well. Much of the film is void of color, expressing the bleakness. As good as the film is visually, it is built completely on its performances. James Badge Dale and Nicole Beharie are good in their small supporting roles, but the two principle characters carry the film and almost all the weight. Carey Mulligan plays off-type bringing life but also a deep sadness to Sissy. She is the spark that ignites the narrative. Michael Fassbender gives what is probably the bravest performance of the year, completely giving himself over to the anger, pain and utter bleakness of Brandon. It is phenomenal work.

Summary & score: Shame is not a fun, entertaining trip to the movies, but for those filmgoers looking for an affecting piece of cinema this is a fearless look at sex addiction. 8/10