Shame

Fractured relationships and empty promiscuity

Within a few years, artist-turned-director Steve McQueen has made a strong impact. Following Hunger, Shame is his second film. It also stars Michael Fassbender, here playing Brandon, a man consumed by sexual addiction. He indulges this to an extreme degree, behind the protection of a highly controlled, successful daily existence. Things unravel following the intrusive entrance of his unstable, needy sister Sissy (Carey Mulligan) and a romantic liaison with a colleague. Shame is not a comfortable watch, and the explicit sexual material borders on the harrowing, but it is a brilliant, modern film.

Brandon is a mesmerizing character. His manner is appealing but distant, his surroundings modern and sparse. He is a lonely man, entombed by a routine of escorts and pornography. Steve McQueen captures this loneliness with carefully composed shots, Fassbender frequently alone on-screen, wandering the city streets or stalking his characterless apartment. Like Taxi Driver before it, Shame studies alienation in New York; Brandon disconnects himself, finding little solace in empty promiscuity.

The fractured relationship between Brandon and Sissy brings to the film a vibrant, sad centre. Initially, we wonder if it is, or has been, incestuous. We are even surprised to learn that they are siblings after their uncomfortably open first scene. There is a great deal of unspoken history and tension, deftly hinted at as the story progresses. Most haunting is one line spoken by Sissy on Brandon's answer machine: "We're not bad people – we just come from a bad place." It asks many questions about their past, the answers to which we can only fathom by grimly witnessing the brother and sister in the present. Does it refer to the shame of the title?

Both Michael Fassbender and Carey Mulligan give genuinely brave, nuanced performances. The result is not draining, but enthralling, notwithstanding the bleak material. Sissy is desperately vulnerable, but Mulligan does not portray a one-note victim. We sympathise with her, despite her wayward dependence. Meanwhile, Fassbender is magnetic as a man who keeps lust and rage barely contained behind an anonymous facade. As Brandon is increasingly provoked, theses urges become dangerously exposed. The effects build steadily, and Fassbender's control is captivating.

Brandon's affair with a colleague, Marianne, expands the character further. They go on a date, a beautifully acted scene which stands out as perhaps the best in the film. It is amusing and charming, but nervous; in a wry touch, the awkward atmosphere is punctured by a waiter's interjections. We feel Brandon is connecting with Marianne, the lust and the rage evaporating. Intimacy, however, is something he ultimately cannot handle. Nicole Beharie is wonderful as Marianne, and with only two key scenes, she is underused.

Shame is marvellously put together. The screenplay (by McQueen and Abi Morgan) is well paced, the photography gleams and Harry Escott's music chills, built on slowly climbing melodic lines. It is a meditative film, made entrancing by the work of the actors, and its strengths are never overwhelmed by the ugly human story it tells. It will stay with me.

8.5