‘Shame’: Steve McQueen’s exploration of sex addiction
The films of British director Steve McQueen often look into some of the most harrowing experience of the past. For instance, 2008’s Hunger told of the 1981 hunger strike in Ireland, while 12 Years a Slave examined the era of slavery in the United States and Small Axe told tales set in the West Indian communities of London from the 1960s to the 1980s.
However, when it came to his 2011 film Shame, McQueen wanted to focus on a contemporary issue, one that seemed to be more of a 21st-century phenomenon. Shame saw Michael Fassbender play Brandon Sullivan, a sex-addicted business executive living in New York City, a narrative that was fresh and unique to McQueen.
Speaking with Vanity Fair, McQueen said that he wanted to make a movie about “now”, noting, “My intention was to hopefully make a movie which sort of was about now, so if you see it in 20 years’ time, it’ll still be about 2011.” Looking at the kind of film that Shame is, it’s clear to see that it’s absolutely a document of the turn of the 2010s and explores the contemporary issue of sex addiction.
Shame is a moving and yet empty-feeling character study of Fassbender’s character. Sex addiction might seem like something to ridicule, but Fassbender’s performance and McQueen’s script show that it’s a dark psychological and emotional dependency that leads into sheer darkness.
Brandon ought to be living the high life with his affluent career and beautiful apartment, but his addiction to sex means that his existence is dominated by pornography, masturbation, one-night stands and sex workers, none of which ever actually solve nor quench his physical thirst, and he’s frequently left isolated and void of emotion post orgasm.
Sex is naturally perceived by society as a pleasurable experience, but it appears that Brandon uses it as a way to cover over whatever seems to be going on inside of him, which we, as an audience, rarely, if ever, gain access to. When Brandon’s sister Sissy (played by Carey Mulligan) shows up, we discover hints as to their difficult history that might explain why Brandon feels the only way he can live is to come over and over and over again, though without any seeming inkling of joy.
Even when Brandon attempts a “normal” relationship with a co-worker, he suffers erectile dysfunction, which is representative of his inability to form healthy bonds with those around him, further reinforced by his damaged siblingship with Sissy. There’s also an irony to this in that it’s his addiction to sex that actually prevents Brandon from being able to enjoy sex beyond the confines of the physical.
There’s a striking emptiness to McQueen’s film, whether in the isolating urban environment of New York City or the cycle of shame that Brandon puts himself through every day. In fact, Brandon’s addiction and depression end up having severe personal consequences, ones that may well worsen his condition, and the film’s open ending suggests that he may never escape from his psychological self-torture.
McQueen had sought to make Shame as a response to the easy access to pornography in the 21st century and the high numbers of those who report an addiction to sex. The result is an impressive performance from Fassbender and an utterly bleak movie that explores the ways that human beings cover up their deepest sadness with repetitive and self-destructive behaviours.
