“It’s just a string of long, endless scenes that try to drive home the fact that HE DOESN’T CARE! Penis? Vagina? Butthole? Doesn’t matter! He’s addicted! In an alley? In a bed? On the computer? All good to him! He’s a slave to his cock! By the end of it I was baffled. Like, the thesis as far as I could tell was, “Michael Fassbender has a big penis.” That was all that was at stake in any given scene. Fassbender’s penis from behind. Fassbender’s penis in the dark. Fassbender’s penis in corporate lighting. And Carey Mulligan needlessly doing a cover of New York, New York somewhere in the middle, which just ends up being a jarring music video out of nowhere and we spend five minutes zoomed in on her face and panning around a hotel restaurant really slowly and I fell asleep and sharted my internal organs out.”
—
I gave a really good review of “Shame” to someone last night and have recreated it here for you based on my memory of key phrases (via drinkyourjuice)
I couldn’t put it in better words.
