Shame

Today, in articles across the nation's newspapers, it has been revealed that former Hull City and Bradford City footballer Dean Windass has attempted to commit suicide twice within the last week. 'Deano', as he is affectionately known by the fans of the clubs he played for (Middlesbrough, both Sheffield clubs, Oxford, Aberdeen, Oldham and Darlington; they were the rest), is a bit of a local hero in Bradford, so it came as a massive shock to me when I read the news this morning. I did, however, find it incredibly brave for Mr Windass, a typically northern man's man, to speak about his depression and troubles with such honesty, particularly following the very recent suicide of Leeds and Newcastle (and the rest) legend Gary Speed and that of Rugby League's Terry Newton in 2010. The public and media attitude towards depression as an illness is changing in a positive way but it has previously been ridiculed (quite recently by Geoffrey Boycott), much like the idea of sex addiction.

The first time I heard of an addiction to sex was during the fall from grace of Tiger Woods, and in all honesty, I found the concept ridiculous. How can someone be addicted to sex, something which is supposed to be fun and enjoyable, natural and good for you? Having this week seen Shame, director Steve McQueen's second feature film, starring Michael Fassbender (Brandon) and Carey Mulligan (Sissy), my own opinions on sexual addiction have changed dramatically.

The film is a view into the day to day life of Brandon, a sex addict. The opening scene, in which Brandon walks around naked for a while, masturbates in the shower, goes to work, masturbates in the bathroom cubicle, comes home, has sex with a prostitute before settling in for some casual masturbation to the laptop, is kind of the only insight necessary into the back story of the lead character. This routine is disturbed by the arrival of Sissy, which I didn't initially realise was the name of Mulligan's character and thought it was more of a cutesy nickname Brandon had given his sister. There has been much discussion about the peculiar relationship of the siblings following the film. I found it to be just that; peculiar. Anyone who has a sibling of the opposite sex will know that arguments can erupt like a volcano and be fine after an hour or two of ignoring each other, however most won't walk in on the other in the bath and have a conversation whilst naked. Peculiar.

Due to the nature of the film, a certain amount of graphic nudity and sex was to be expected, however McQueen purposefully makes the sex scenes excruciatingly overlong and uncomfortable to watch. I can honestly say I was squirming more in my seat watching these scenes than in any of the Torture-Porn of the Saw/Hostel series (bemoaned in last weeks blog). Brandon does not want closeness, emotional connections or love. He doesn't seem to want real friends, drinking mainly with his boss who Sissy sleeps with during act 1. The date night scene gave us a further glimpse into the psyche of Brandon as he ponders why anyone would want to be with one person for the rest of their life and what follows is heartbreaking.

In the days since seeing the film I have attempted to see Brandon as a different kind of addict: a heroin addict chasing the dragon; an alcoholic chasing the bottle; or a kleptomaniac nicking some wine and cheese from the supermarket. All are very well publicised. The former two are seen by the general public as illnesses, a need to indulge in your own personal poison however the idea of sexual addiction is still a taboo subject. The life of the British sex addict is something which is yet to be written or spoken about on a public level and, when asked about filming in New York, McQueen said the film was intended to be British however nobody was willing to talk about it. On seeing the film, it is easy to see why.

Shame is an uncomfortable look into addiction - the routine, the pain, the heartbreak. In a day when sex is glamourised, pornography easily accessible and in a nation immune to shock (Human Centipede 2 anyone?), McQueen has succeeded in making a film about sex anything but fantastical. An incredibly interesting piece on a topic which has been swept under the social carpet, Shame is a genuine contender for the big awards this year; the two leads are wonderful, the directorial sense throughout is superb and the film itself is almost harrowing. Go see it if you have the stomach. If not, find the clip of Carey Mulligan singing "New York, New York" as it is breathtakingly beautiful.

War Horse next...