Shame is not exactly the kind of movie a person enjoys. Appreciates? Admires? A definitive yes on both counts. Heck, I’d even go so far as to say a viewer could even say they like the movie, the majority of it so stunningly strong I can’t begrudge anyone from doing just that. But enjoy? I’m just not sure that’s possible, Director and co-writer Steve McQueen’s latest an even more soul-crushing and gut-wrenching affair than his sensational debut effort Hunger, which if you’ve seen that Irish prison drama than you know just how gigantic such a statement is.

Michael Fassbender in Shame © Fox Searchlight

I don’t mean any of what I’ve just written to be considered as a negative. This New York based drama is mesmerizing on almost every level, its intimate character study of a sexual addict trying to navigate the dark corners of his sleaze-filled life nearly impossible to turn one’s eyes away from. It’s a Conrad-esque descent into darkness, the beating heart at the center of all this a flawed and fractured one desperately searching for a reason to try and heal.

Said heart belongs to Brandon Sullivan (Michael Fassbender), some sort of successful executive who manages to keep his professional and personal lives separate and hidden from one another. He lives alone, is addicted to porn, frequents high-end prostitutes and has an undeniable penchant for hard, rough sex that’s more carnal than it is anything else.

But his world begins to explode when his free-spirited sister Cissy (Carey Mulligan) arrives on his doorstep looking for a place to say. On top of that, his promiscuous boss David (James Badge Dale) has started to take more of an interest in his afterhour’s activities, the man maybe more of a sexual predator - he’s married – than Brandon is. Worst of all, after having dinner with sexy office mate Marianne (Nicole Beharie) he’s beginning to question whether his sexually adventurous life is worth living, the two sharing a connection going beyond the purely physical.

That description doesn’t do the movie a lot of justice mainly because it makes it sound far more conventional and melodramatic than it actually is. McQueen and fellow writer Abi Morgan (“The Hour,” Brick Lane) aren’t interested in following the normal narrative rules, could care less about making things easy on their audience. This is a descent into misery and ennui, a character study of a man trolling the cesspools of the human condition, and anyone expecting their to be any sort of grand redemptive moment or scene of cathartic inspiration better prepare themselves for disappointment.

And this isn’t a bad thing; it’s just not necessarily an entertaining one. McQueen has made an electric, absolutely magnetic motion picture where emotion is continually bubbling right below the surface. It is a movie where every turn of the camera, every musical queue, every single technical facet comes together in a way bordering on perfection. It is an exercise in controlled primeval cinematic chaos, the filmmaker going places and showcasing facets of the human conditions many would run screaming in the opposite direction to get away from.

All of which would mean nothing if McQueen didn’t have actors up to the challenge, and in Fassbender and Mulligan he’s got two of them more than willing to go anyplace he dines to venture. The former, in particular, has crafted a portrait of narcissistic self-loathing and sexual impropriety unlike anything I’ve ever seen. At times I felt sorry for Brandon, other moments I hated him with all my might. Fassbender had me wavering between so many different emotional plateaus I almost didn’t know what to think next. This is a loathsome man, and yet one also capable of depths of understanding they almost boggle the mind, the actor culminating his monumental year of excellence (Jane Eyre, X-Men: First Class and A Dangerous Method) with a penultimate portrait that by all rights should earn him on Oscar nomination.

But if he deserves live from the Academy Awards then so does Mulligan, her fractured fairy tale chanteuse of a princess little sister Cissy as mesmerizing and unforgettable as any performance the former An Education nominee has ever given. Her pain, her longing, I felt every pang, every cry and every squirming longing for intimacy. This is a damaged woman, a twenty-something who hasn’t grown up, the walls of a familial disconnect between her and Brandon hiding even harsher past secrets neither sibling wants to revisit but ones both tragically cannot escape.

Yet nothing changes my original statements might right at the start: Shame is virtually impossible to enjoy. The movie is incredibly well made, impeccably acted and never boring. It shocks, it has moments have playfulness, heck, it’s even kind of funny every now and then. But enjoyable? Never. It is a movie intent on staying true to its characters, to its concepts and to its ideas, and as much as I respect McQueen for being able to do just that, and while that makes the movie exceedingly easy to recommend, that doesn’t mean I’m inclined to watch it again anytime soon.

Film Rating: êêê (out of 4)

Additional Links

• Shame Theatrical Trailer