Shame draws it's audience into the experience of living according to powerful urges while simultaneously maintaining decorum. Sex has become something that Brandon fits seamlessly into into his life, in order that the outside world should never question his immaculate persona. It is his safety blanket, but also a necessary prison. Every action, every routine and every formality is an affectation that allows Brandon to live in a 'normal' world.
In ways reminiscent of Sofia Coppola's 'Lost in Translation', the most important aspect of Shame is its apparent simplicity, however McQueen insists that we search deeper for anything resembling a narrative insight. In doing so, we are handsomely rewarded for our efforts. Stylistically McQueen controls the pace of the film strictly with unflinchingly long takes amidst montage-like daily routines, creating emphasis upon exactly what he wishes us to see (A particularly prevalent scene documents Brandon's bid to escape his urges).
Daily rituals encompass the insatiable necessity for prostitutes, pornography and masturbation. As such, we become increasingly desensitised to the habitual sexual nuances that Brandon uses to temper his compulsions. Relationships are props and enablers that set the stage for this elaborate masquerade. His success, his home, and his fastidious dress sense are the lavish furniture of this self imposed imprisonment.
An astonishing score controls and projects the turmoil that swells and builds beneath Brandon's calm exterior - seemingly mundane moments resonate with panic as his control slips. These are probably among the closest representations we get of Brandon's actual personality - secreted away as a safeguard to ensure that his primal instincts remain controlled. While watching Shame I could not help but be reminded of Bret Easton Ellis' 'Patrick Bateman' who's social existence masks his innate psychosis.
''There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable... I simply am not there.''
However, where Ellis' depiction of a suave and successful psychopath offered a critique on the culture of 80s Wall Street, I believe McQueen's critique rests in Brandon's acknowledgement of the life he has to live in order to be accepted. His shame is his existence, and the extent to which the truth has been usurped by prerequisites to this existence.
McQueen uses the introduction of Brandon's beautiful and equally damaged sister 'Sissy' (Carey Mulligan) to probe Brandon's personal life through a more familiar perspective. Although Sissy's spontaneous arrival throws Brandon's carefully manufactured routine into disarray, his aggravation and sudden displays of emotion are revealing in regards to his character, their relationship and most importantly, the past. Brandon and Sissy's relationship is seemingly very close, while consciously distanced - an unspoken knowledge that is uncannily intriguing to follow. From an all-too-comfortable naked meeting, through a series of awkward and disproportionately emotion-wielding developments, to a paradoxically melancholic performance of 'New York, New York', McQueen's narrative lies in subtext. Just as Brandon's exchanges have deeper meanings to us through the dramatic irony of his yearnings, we search for hidden truths amidst the siblings' dialogue for the answers. 
I have never had a cinematic experience quite like this. McQueen juxtaposes subtle allusions to Brandon and Sissy's past, with constant and explicit references to sex. These references become astonishingly moot in comparison with the intrigue of the past, as we develop understanding of their resounding roots. Having watched the film twice now I am acutely aware of the subtle portrayals of the barren and clinical functionality of Brandon's self-serving existence - particularly the fact that he has essentially imprisoned himself from the world outside. From a sister who knows him too intimately, who reminds him of the past, and is absorbed by her own damaged soul - to a female colleague who is liked too much to be accepted. Our view of Brandon's life is handled delicately yet pangs with powerful truth and forethought. The only time we see Brandon at relative ease with another individual is in his exchanges with prostitutes, although McQueen still purports a symbolic distance between these short-lived dalliances and the world which surrounds him.
Watch this film with an analytical eye to experience the implicit complexity of Brandon and Sissy's relationship. McQueen harnesses the power of symbolism, as well as great writing and direction, to produce a beautifully developed insight into sex addiction and troubled backgrounds. Performances by Fassbender and Mulligan are flawless. This is really not to be missed.
