Shortbus - Dove tutto è permesso

Shortbus reviewed by Sam Osborn

I have a bad feeling that after the first ten minutes of Shortbus are through, much of the audience will have already left; because within this first segment, sophomore director John Cameron Mitchell has the mind to show his audience the nature of this very, ahem…frank work. Audiences will have witnessed filmed masturbation, wild fornication in a myriad of poses, and a scene of S&M sexual nature. These are all acts we've seen before from other Hollywood pictures; but then again, those pictures only played pretend. Shortbus requires all its actors to do such acts for real.

Is Porn too strong a word to describe such a film? It's debatable, I suppose. Films that boast actual penetration are usually not found in theatres anymore; instead hidden in the back of your video rental stores, or placed neatly on a shady internet site. But Pornography uses plot mechanisms only to drive the story into another sex scene. Shortbus has plot mechanisms to drive the arcs of its characters. That its characters all play roles indulgent in fornication is simply the nature of Shortbus' stories. But enough about the ethics of Shortubus; it's a good film. And if you're not too squeamish for the subject matter, and have a mind for tongue-in-cheek wit, then it shouldn't matter how close to porn the film means to aim.

It's a story of New Yorkers. A fringe group of New Yorkers who all meet at the underground lounge Shortbus. It's a place of casual frivolity, where people of any sexual preference are free to indulge in whatever they please. They mingle and dance and drink and have sex, all happily and without any semblance of filth or vice. These people are simply enjoying themselves and being quite hilarious while they do it. The members that we're asked to follow all come from the Magnolia school of connections, where links between characters are often coincidental and illogical, but acceptable as obligations of an ensemble drama. Sofia (Sook-Yin Lee) is a Sex Therapist who prefers to be called a Couples Councilor and who's unable to have an orgasm. She's invited to Shortbus by the club's poster child couple, Jamie and Jamie (Paul Dawson and PJ DeBoy), who assure Sofia that if there's an orgasm to be found, it's hidden within Shortbus. In a dark room there, Sofia meets Severina (Lindsay Beamish), a lonely dominatrix who gets mean when uncomfortable, and whose longest relationship was with the geeky trust fund sexual deviant.

All their stories are all human and kind of affecting, managing to dig their way out of the film's heaping shock factor to create something like empathy. It's nothing heartbreaking or particularly inspiring, but how much can we really expect from a film that has an entire scene dedicated to the National Anthem being sung into an anal orifice. But that's the charm of Shortbus, I suppose. Director/Writer John Cameron Mitchell has made a film more explicit than most pornography while keeping eroticism completely out of the equation. The film's sexuality is frank and the humor always constant, while avoiding jokes that patronize its cast of outsiders.

It's too easy to forget the poignancy of Shortbus, though. The dialogue that's sure to be shot wild by its release won't be about its humor or spirit; talk will be of the skin that was exposed in finding the better, realer bits. It's too bad, but, again, what can we expect from a film that sings the National Anthem into a man's anus? Rating: 3 out of 4

Samuel Osborn

Shortbus is very high on the list of my most beloved movies. I can not avoid to call it a masterwork. And why is that so ?

It is a deeeply human movie. It has so many facettes, like comedic, sensual, pornographic, sad, senseful, atmospheric, toughtful, and many other things. It's a vibrant view on the lifes of some outsiders or people who don't fit in functionwise, and are searching for magic in their live, which is provided through the club shortbus as a catalysator. The movie is much too far off the main road to be swallowed in one session. It has to be watched sometimes, so one can find always new aspects and details.

While going very deep into some sad or explicit situations, Shortbus alwas stays lighthearted, not taking itself too serious. Acting is partially phenomenous, it's often more being than acting, so that I had the impression of sitting between those characters and watching them living, losing, hurting and hoping.

In the end, I am always a bit sad the movie is such a loner in the landscape. The concept is so easy, and not even its creator managed to make a follow-up. It's the actual proof that modern cinema can be glorious, intelligent, erotic, sensitive AND enjoyable. I do not want to believe that this proof will be the only one in decades.

We need at least a couple more movies like this, since we are all existing through sex and emotions, and we should enjoy the short time we have. At least, I need. And because I always feel good and lighthearted, in a way healed, after watching Shortbus.

Director John Cameron Mitchell dares to take a retro-clinging America into the twenty-first century with this brave, humanistic art-house film wherein an ensemble cast of little known actors and numerous non-actors portray characters exploring emotions and relationships in a New York City underground club called the Shortbus.

As a gay couple with relationship problems, James (Paul Dawson) and Jamie (P.J. DeBoy), consult a young sex therapist named Sofia (Sook-Yin Lee) who, as it turns out, is in need of some therapy herself. The film's weak plot steers them to the Shortbus, wherein sex and open relationships trump everything else in life, as if people obsess about sex every minute of every day. The film's sex scenes are explicit and graphic, but never exploitative.

Most of the characters are to varying degrees pleasantly unique. I especially liked Justin Bond, the club's tour guide. The film's costumes and production design are terrific. Artwork is mod, as you would expect. And the film's music captures a progressive feel, and varies from nouveau jazz to the stirring humanistic anthem "In The End", performed by the entire cast, and led with flair by Justin Bond.

Unorthodox both in substance and style, in a society that too often demands traditional correctness, "Shortbus" is Mitchell's cinematic plea for cultural compassion and mercy, tolerance and acceptance. It is a cinematic theme that is much needed in America, where hatred and intolerance toward all things nonconforming seriously risk diversity of thought and behavior. At the very least, the film is a welcome change from your mainstream Hollywood assembly-line cinematic trash. I suspect, however, that "Shortbus" really is the wave of the future, particularly in forward-looking societies. More power to it.

A married sex therapist doles out relationship advice at work but privately spends her time in search of an orgasm, which she's never had. Two gay men find themselves drifting from one another and introduce a third man into their relationship in an attempt to bring some fulfillment back to their emotional connection. A professional dominatrix excels at abusing clients, but brings that abusive behavior to her personal relationships as well and as a result isolates herself from any true human contact. Meanwhile, all of these characters meet regularly at Shortbus, a sex club where everyone is free to be whatever they want to be, where no one's a freak because everyone's a freak, and where, most importantly, everyone feels a sense of community in a scary post-9/11 world.

Such is "Shortbus," John Cameron Mitchell's emotionally affecting follow up film to his dazzling debut, "Hedwig and the Angry Inch." By now, everyone knows that "Shortbus" contains many scenes of quite explicit sex. As happens with any more conventional film that contains material we are used to seeing only in bona fide pornography, the sex tends to dominate on a first viewing; it's so hard not to be distracted by the explicit scenes and ignore the other things going on. However, it is to Mitchell's great credit that I left the film not remembering the sex as much as I remembered some of the beautiful emotional moments, of which "Shortbus" is chock full.

I saw a screening of this at the Chicago International Film Festival, and two of the actors, Sook-Yin Lee and Lindsay Beamish, were on hand to answer questions. Lee explained what Mitchell was trying to do with this film, and I greatly admire his ambition. She said that he was trying to make an antidote to all of the other films out there that treat sex just as explicitly but in such more negative ways. Sex in our movie culture is usually full of dysfunction -- if it's not downright harmful, it's at best desultory and unsatisfying (think "9 Songs"). Our culture condones graphic violence in films, many times in combination with sex, but squirms away from sex as it really looks, even though it's one of the most natural of human functions. Mitchell wanted to illuminate this hypocrisy and show that sex can be fun, sex can bring people together, sex can make you laugh. It can't necessarily solve problems, as the characters in this film realize, but it doesn't always have to necessarily cause problems either.

My biggest complaint about "Shortbus" is that I felt somewhat left out. As a heterosexual male, I don't feel that I was represented by any of the film's characters. Mitchell, as a gay man, obviously has an understanding of gay relationships, and the storyline with the three gay lovers is handled beautifully. But I felt that Mitchell was stereotyping heterosexual relationships in the same way that heterosexuals stereotype gays. The married couple is bored, unfulfilled, caustic with one another. Lee's character can't achieve orgasm until she comes to a sex club and gets it on with another woman. Just once, can't a film show a heterosexual couple who are happy and having a completely satisfying emotional and sexual relationship? I know this wouldn't make for great drama, but it would at least make me feel better.

I really liked "Shortbus" without feeling that it was a complete bulls-eye for Mitchell. At the very least, he has an outstanding talent and has proved himself to be a young filmmaker to watch.

Grade: A-

Set in modern-day New York City, a heterogeneous group of straights, gays and transgenders find common ground at Shortbus, an underground salon where people are free to explore their most carnal sexual desires with random hookups and nightlong orgies – sometimes even finding bits of wisdom along the way.

The superb cast of characters of John Cameron Mitchell's "Shortbus" powerfully draws the viewer in to each of the characters' lives and problems. Sofia (Sook-Yin Lee), a sex therapist who's never had an orgasm, seeks out ways to overcome her "pre-orgasmic" dilemma, profoundly affecting her marriage. James (Paul Dawson), a former male escort battling depression, goes to ultimate extremes when he can't even seem to feel happiness with his loving and devoted partner of five years, Jamie (PJ DeBoy). Struggling artist Severin (Lindsay Beamish), who succumbed to work as a dominatrix, seeks to have a meaningful relationship with someone – anyone.

Yes, the on-screen sex is real. And there's lots of it. But rather than displaying sexually explicit scenes for the sake of cheap titillation, "Shortbus" is provocative with an actual purpose. We're not in Hollywood anymore.

While sex is a main focal point in the film, it is not the sole one. "Shortbus" deals with all manners of human relations. Not stressing one form over another, it shows how sex, friendship and love continually intermingle. Because one's comfort level with their sexuality mirrors how one relates in all other relationships, showing the raw and carnal aspect of each character so explicitly works beautifully to accurately convey their motivations and struggles.

In a touching conversation, an old man identifying himself as the former mayor of New York says to the young and naive Ceth (Jay Brannan), "People come to New York to get laid ... People also come to New York to be forgiven." The latter can also be said for those who elect to see this film. Whether dealing with sexual oppression, struggling with sexual desires deemed socially deviant, seeking redemption for having already been there and done that, or feeling generally unaccepted for being who you are, the redemption value in this film is tenderly perceptible. "Shortbus" lets us know that gay, straight, bi, transgender, whatever – we all just want to feel accepted.