A good friend of mine recently asked me to queue up Shortbus on Netflix in order to sate his thirst for critical film conversation. I quickly obliged, and soon thereafter formed an opinion, and then I wrote this. I watched the film all the way through. I didn’t fast-forward through any parts. I didn’t distract myself with other activities during its run. I didn’t do anything but watch and listen and take it all in (no pun intended).
Why the disclaimer? I have a very good reason: I don’t want anyone to think that my ultimately negative review of this film had anything to do with a hetero-gross out factor. It has nothing to do with sexual stodginess or moral offense taken to the admittedly graphic material (I’ve seen much worse… On a nightly basis, in fact… I’ve got high-speed Internet). I gave this movie a fair watch with no preconception and my trademark open-mindedness. And I think it sucks (ahem… no pun intended).
In order to express my thoughts on Shortbus in the most circuitous manner possible (as is fitting a film like this one) allow me to discuss what Shortbus is not:
1. Shortbus is not a sex-romp because though infused with bits of humor (and an admittedly hysterical rendition of the Star-Spangled Banner) none of the sex is fun to watch. It’s painful. What the actors in this film manage to muster as emotional turmoil taints any of the fun one would expect of a film about a sex therapist (played by the amicable Sook-Yin Lee) who, har-har, can’t have an orgasm! More over, the parallel storyline of a former male prostitute turned depressed indie filmmaker wannabe, is so over-developed there isn’t any surprise when things go horribly awry.
2. Shortbus is not a porno because though packed with explicit (and you’ll be beaten over the head with the fact that it’s unsimulated) sex, none of it is very arousing. Again, all physicality in this movie is shown as troublesome and awkward, and though there isn’t a flabby body to be found, there’s nothing even remotely titillating about watching the characters beat themselves up (or off, as the case may be).
3. Shortbus is not technically interesting because though there is an occasional chuckle-inspiring moment, the acting is weak, the dialogue is mostly ill-conceived/improved, and all the stuff between the uselessly graphic sex scenes just seems like… Well, it just seems like stuff between uselessly graphic sex scenes. The sex scenes are so graphic, in fact, and yet so half-heartedly veiled with all the other stuff that’s going on, that what Shortbus is is pretty obvious…
Shortbus is a jumbled mess. The central tangle is the fact that while clearly not meant to be fun or enticing or arousing, it is, at it’s core, a T&A exploitation flick. Why else would all the bodies be so firm and the close-ups and slow-pans so lingering? Shortbus is simply a bunch of young, attractive actors getting naked and occasionally pretending, at all the wrong times, to have deep feelings for the sake of a “real” message clumbsily handled by the director who seemed more than willing to discredit any sense of reality with far too many pert breasts and washboard abs (which rival those found in the only slightly more homoerotic 300). Bah! I call emperor’s new clothes, because the message is see through, but the king’s clearly been doing his crunches.
My dear Miss Manners once said of the dissolution of social cards that “the best card game in town [had] been busted up.” I, in a perpetual effort to meet her fine standard of social decorum, have resolved to bring the social calling card back into fashion. However, as I often enjoy the fusion of new and old, I have taken great care to revitalize the traditional form. Such efforts are seen in use of font, color, informative display, decorative embellishment and, in some instances, frivilous innuendo. In all, the new social card is perfect for the digital generation (forgoing the traditional address with electronic means for communication), as well as anyone with enough good sense to keep their business card hidden while in social company.
Here’re a few samples cooked up by yours truly for a couple of friends:
If you think you might a card specially designed for you (as all of these were), drop me a line!
So, for those of you who I didn’t tell (don’t be offended, I just didn’t want to jinx things), I’ve been in
Alas, my time spent here was brief and ended on a sad note. There is no place for me at Microsoft. Though crushed and wallowing in self-deprecation, I figure I’ll save something for the therapists’ couch.
So kids, looks like my life:/format will have to be put off. I should’ve known when I found out my computer couldn’t run