In a nutshell Shame could be American Psycho’s close cousin. But one that should be attended and analyzed with a contemporary critical eye. And also the reason why adult audiences need to see this technological-driven libido tale in modern day New York.

Disguised as a fiction film lives one of society’s latest issues caused by the avalanche of technology and pornography. Brandon, a young successful man, played by Michael Fassbender, is somewhat an antihero, whose life revolves around his obsession for quick uncompromised sex and pornographic material.  This practice has tangible repercussions on Brandon and young successful males whom he represents, who live in the darkness of a computerized world where anonymity is necessary to fulfill one’s desires.

Brandon’s obscure life gets more complex when he finds pleasure with prostitutes, not in the morbid way Patrick Bateman does in American Psycho, but with the obsession of making his virtual reality “tangible” and readily accesible. In Shame, Brandon goes out with friends, and finds pleasure in quick hookups with girls, much like the Internet porno videos he constantly watches which is the reason why his laptop computer is constantly serviced because of computer viruses. Brandon is told the IT department found very disgusting stuff in his laptop, some of which his boss does not even know what it actually means. Brandon blames an intern for this material and viruses and resumes his life as usual.

To put Brandon in perspective, he is addicted to sex in a way never shown in film. His laptop computer becomes the enabler and the streets his playground. At the beginning of the film Brandon is confronted with a young sexy wife, who flirts at him inside a subway train. Brandon does not mind the fact that this woman is wearing a wedding ring, he is only interested in a random sex encounter with her which leads him to follow her inside the subway station maze. This scene opens the film and it sets the tone for what Brandon expectations are and how little respect he has for women, even if they are married.

Director Steve McQueen brings an independent tale of taboo subjects barely exposed by mainstream media, Hollywood included. McQueen chooses an eclectic mix of long shots that have become an act of heresy in modern Hollywood cinema. One example is Brandon’s sister Sissy, played by Carey Mulligan, singing New York New York, the classical Sinatra New York tribute, in a rather unusual slow pace. Her performance almost turns this song into a complete new one devoid of passion, but instead into one full of anxiety and hopelessness. Except for the couple of inserts of Brandon crying to his sister’s rendition of the song, the full closeup of Sissy’s singing lasts for over 4 minutes. McQueen also treats viewers to a date Brendan has with a coworker of his. In this date the camera remains locked to the perspective and intimacy of their moment, where they get to know each other. Somehow McQueen tricks audiences to believe Brendan is making a positive turn in his life and that is why the long duration of the shot serves this duality. To document this change and for audiences to remain active witnesses of his new destiny.

With the pacing of the story within the screen, McQueen treats viewers into great simple story telling in which all scenes have main and secondary meanings. This is evident in the way Brendan and his sister fight over control of territory, but this pattern creates more complexities than audiences expect, especially after she struggles to keep a romantic relationship and is forced to move in with Brendan, who prefers a lonely existence than her sister’s company.

McQueen also addresses marital happiness as a side effect of anonymity in virtual spaces. Brendan’s boss is much like Brendan himself, except that in practice he does not get much play, unlike Brendan. But Shame is not about comparisons, it is about happiness and how to find it or avoid it.

In another scene Brendan is so frustrated, sexually that is, that he resorts to actions he would not normally approve of. After touching a girls intimate parts in a bar, Brendan confronts the girl’s boyfriend, and instead of simply lying, like the girl does, he humiliates the boyfriend by reaching his fingers to the boyfriend’s nose. Brendan is then beaten up by the upset boyfriend. Frustrated by his inability to find action, or perhaps by his new found repulsiveness for clean and good women, Brendan brings himself to new lows, which is what Shame is all about, the possibility of being lost with double lives in a technological saturated world, or perhaps, of a man’s quest to deal with his own past.

It all boils down to the now commonly asked question, do we need another 3D film in theaters?

If you answer yes, you will be disappointed.

Pina Bausch’s life is celebrated with the magnificent direction of Win Wenders, who is best known for directing the Buena Vista Social Club documentary film featuring Cuban musicians who played for the club of the same name during the 1950‘s. For this film, Wenders received an Academy Award nomination for best documentary feature but he is also known for Paris, Texas, and Wings of Desire, among other films.

In Pina he recreates some of the dance routines dancers performed under Pina Bausch’s leadership in the Tanztheater Wuppertal, the place where some critics say modern dance theater was born. With their dancing, they also speak, without words, with such fluidity and passion that only parallels the work of Marcel Marceau or Charlie Chaplin in the same way their bodies became the language or paint.

“She was a painter,” says one of the dancers in the film, and “we were the paint.” With its many dance routines, which sometimes are performed with a full troupe or by a single dancer, Pina talks of fragility, age, seasons, alienation, nature, love and many other subjects in a beautiful visual mix that contrasts dancers against their backgrounds. At the beginning of the film, dancers perform in a world where only sand exists and men and women unite to create life.

After this scene Pina takes the audience to a world of visual language no one had explored in film before. This language was fully explored with every one of the sequences in the film and the way dancers perform and talk through each routine.

In this journey, Pina develops into a postmodern manifestation of life among our industrial world. By juxtaposing bridges, trams, and buildings against dancers longing for their own space, Pina talks of the balance and imbalance of nature against the fragility of life and the trap of modern life. In one of the shortest scenes in the film, a woman, whose face do not see, is chained and longing for freedom. She is trying in vain to free herself by force, then the film subjects the audience to a similar sight when a woman is allegorically buried by another woman, who is wearing business attire.

While Pina’s direction is one of the best in musical-themed contemporary films, with the varied use of angles and camera placement, the visual force of Pina would be greatly diminished had it not been for the excellent choice of music. The film explores every scene with a selection of songs that reinforces the visual content with songs that are as flexible as the dancers are. One scene tricks the audience into believing a woman’s arms are as strong as a man’s. The song absorbs the audience into this visual trick until it is revealed that a man is behind her, the man then moves out of the woman’s foregrounded figure and together engage in a spiral dance that takes place inside a tram’s machinery room, replicating the synergy of the couple with the non-stop action of the tram’s movement. In another scene a man is dancing while a dog is barking at him. The song captures the audience into the play of the man and the dog, who seem to be disconnected but aware of each other. Once again, the film uses powerful imagery to contrast the dance with the surroundings, in this case a banner that mentions in German monetary issues by mentioning the word “dollar.”

Pina’s full use of outdoor scenery is much restricted, but not limited at the end of the film, when Win Wender choreographs an otherwise impossible mix of indoor water theatrics and a full size rock that emphasizes the visual richness an energy of Pina Bausch’s work. Dancers become the energy behind the movement of the water and the reason why it splashes onto the rock. They become the rain and the wind that while merely situated in a stage, creates the same dramatic effect on the audience.

The visual richness of the film is fully explored with great modern dance, Pina Bausch’s choreographies and Win Wender’s choice of 3D visuals that reinforces the depth of Pina Bausch’s work which ironically is the reason why the film was not done before her death. The use of 3D in Pina does not fulfill a marketing scheme to draw moviegoers, but to engage the audience in a world where body is the language, to remind viewers of life and earth in a complex layered foreground background experience, and like Pina Bausch said: “Dance, dance… otherwise we are lost.”