Ooh, NC-17?  Isn’t that dirty?  Well, kinda.  NC-17 is the rating that’s supposed to be used to separate intense filmmaking from the XXX sleazefests that pop up in adult movie theaters.  You know, the theaters where the floor is sticky, and it’s not because of the butter on the popcorn.  Okay, now I feel dirty.  But sadly this rating has typically been given back-of-the-bus treatment, hoping that one day a film with this rating will resonate with viewers and grant it the respect it deserves.

Shame is the latest NC-17 film to hit theaters, and it stars X-Men: First Class hottie Michael Fassbender as a man who is a slave to his sexual addictions.  He’s able to keep his work life and play life separate until his hippie vagabond sister Sissy (yeah, the name’s pretty stupid, but it’s the awesome Carey Mulligan from An Education) moves in.  Ready for the pr0n to hit the fan?  Well, it never quite explodes.  Much like a peep show, Shame is all flash and no substance, a movie that promises a deep look at a racy subject but leaves the audience unfulfilled.

Poor Brandon.  The man has a problem, and it’s a doozy.  He’s a sex addict, and that’s the kind of problem folks laugh about rather than throw telethons for.  (Hey, they’d only use the money for hookers and blow, amIright?)  He’s got a good job, an apartment with a great view, and tons of money to spend on adult websites and hookers.  He’s so obsessed with the climax that he’s gotta run into the bathroom during work just to rub one out.  Why?  Good question.

We don’t get a real peek into Brandon’s psyche, or any part of his life at all to be honest.  He’s got a good job, but we gather that from the sleek look of his office.  Apparently he works with Chandler Bing as Bigshot Guy With Random Assignments.  Brandon’s got a nice pad, but it’s so bleak and empty that even minimalists would buy the guy a throw pillow.  As for Sissy, all we know is that she’s a singer — she can make New York New York sound like the longest song you’ve ever heard in your life — and that she has a problem staying in one place for too long.  Call her the Depressed Pixie Dreamgirl.

Brother and sister obviously have a lot of water under their bridge, but this movie doesn’t pull from any of it.  Brandon cries when he hears Sissy sing; is he remembering something from their past, or does he just wish she’d wrap it up?  Sissy demands Brandon’s attention to the point of some pretty drastic measures; how attached are they, exactly?  And does the sibling connection these two share play into either one’s personal issues?  Director Steve McQueen doesn’t seem to care.  This is the first film I’ve seen in a long time that manages to make sex boring and dull.  Yes, the point of the film is Brandon is a slave to his desires, to the point of those desires becoming routine.  But if the sex is dull, then the story should be riveting.  Instead, we’re back to the ol’ X-rated standby: Plot, What Plot?

It’s not like McQueen is working with adult film stars that can’t act; he’s cast two indie film darlings that have shown their chops before.  But Fassbender’s Brandon is about as appealing as the cold grey walls he lives in.  Not that the man doesn’t have a large … amount of talent.  Oh yes, he does.  But he’s hella sexier as the be-turtlenecked young Magneto in X-Men: First Class (or all in tweed as Carl Jung in A Dangerous Method).  Mulligan is also a very attractive specimen, and you get to see ’em both in their altogether.  But it doesn’t make a difference if they’re not characters you care about.  And this movie gives you no reason to care.  So they end up blending into the scenery instead of giving the audience a way to connect.  Blame the director and screenwriter, ’cause these two actors give it their best.

This movie is all about beautiful images, and on that score McQueen excels.  Bleak vistas of a washed out, grey New York show us the empty, haunted world Brandon lives in.  When Sissy comes into his life, she’s all golden sparkle and shine, which quickly fades to Brandon’s grey as she stays.  Brandon uses jogging as a way to escape…his urges?  His sister?  The world?  We’re not sure, but dang if it’s not shot beautifully.  The theme of a man who has everything and yet nothing seems to satisfy is vaguely reminiscent of Fight Club, but without any emotion to get in the way of the staging.  Think of this movie as “Sex Club”, and the first rule is nobody talks about, well, anything.

With a stellar cast, an interesting premise and beautiful cinematography, this movie could have been the one that finally made NC-17 more than a dirty word.  Instead, Shame makes it’s interpersonal connections trite and boring.  And that’s the real shame.