A week after seeing The Artist I'm back on my melancholic track. A beautiful one.
I finally got to watch this particular film (Shame) on this recent New Year's Day that I've been holding off since last month.
If someone were to ask me to choose a piece of art that would represent something about my mood or perspective about life, it'd be Shame (2011, directed by the British artist Steve McQueen). Being that the story is shot in New York City, the city acts as a fitting backdrop that places an emphasis on the feeling of isolation and loneliness in the story.
You can guess that "Shame" is on my [highly selective] Top 10 list in film.
On rare instances would a performance or story would haunt me days after. That's what Sleep No More did to me – that was last summer. It still haunts me.
Shame (2011) would now be the other. It resonated a sense, or sensation, of "familiarity". Something very internal that I feels quite secretive. The tone to the story overall appealed to me, or, it's something I find in my own work. For such a explicit dark subject matter (a man's sexual addiction), the story is beautifully told and shot. It all felt human to me in the end.
Having the story shot and set in New York City makes it more fittingly. I think this is the first New York centric movie on my top list of films that portrayed my home city the way I see it. Being a city like this can amplified one's loneliness, if not suppress one into darkness. The city's vibe. There are some things I see that seems to feel so immediate, rushed, and disposable. Lust or love, that is.
(I don't feel it should have gotten a NC-17 rating when I've seen a lot more nudity and explicit acts in a single R rated movie alone. Naturally, ratings will also affect audience and ticket sales for commercial releases.)
The original score of the character is as beautifully haunting as the story.