12 Years a Slave (Steve McQueen)

Solomon chained.

In 2012, we were given multiple films about slavery, one about its abolition and the other plainly about its utter insanity, in the form of "Lincoln" and "Django Unchained": two films directed by premiere filmmakers Steven Spielberg and Quentin Tarantino. This time, Steve McQueen ("Hunger" and "Shame"), a filmmaker who has steadily established himself throughout the past few years as a potent auteur, brings us "12 Years a Slave": a film that dares to strip 19th century slavery down to its bare essentials and examine the utter savagery that permeates its heart. 

Granted, "12 Years a Slave" is not an easy film to watch, as it contains plenty of racially discomforting scenes and is characterized by a sort of brutal realism that would make you feel awfully heavy all throughout. But as cliched as this may sound, this is perhaps one of the most eye-opening films about racism that I've seen. It is visceral, soulful, and even melancholic. It's without politics and gratuitous fantasy violence. It is sans sentimental speeches and a courageous, white man-slapping hero ala Sidney Poitier in "In the Heat of the Night" at its center. It is an ugly 2-hour portrait of racial oppression and inequality, sure, but what makes it even more heart-rending is the tragic character that exists in its core in the form of Solomon Northup, portrayed by Chiwetel Ejiofor with so much nuanced honesty that to just look at his suffering face is already painful enough to do. It's a film that will wrench your guts and twist your bones in anger, but at the same time, it will also move you to tears. Only a handful of films have made me so furious yet very much helpless, and this is definitely one of them.

The cast, comprised mainly of unknown but immensely talented African-American actors (watch out for Dwight Henry and Quvenzhané  Wallis of "Beasts of the Southern Wild" fame), have finely taken on the film's somber tone while also being intensely emotional in all the right moments without being overly dramatic. And if Chiwetel Ejiofor's devastating performance as Solomon Northup, a free black man who was tricked into slavery (and who has also written the book from which this was based), was the film's heart and soul, Lupita Nyong'o's empathetic turn as Patsey is its flesh, blood, and bones. 

On the other hand, Michael Fassbender, who just never ceases to amaze everyone with his almost unreal acting skills, is pure evil as Edwin Epps, the cotton plantation owner that Solomon and company were unfortunate enough to be sold to. Perennially drunk, ever-amorous, and always armed with a whip and his tendencies to power trip, Epps is the worst kind of slaver (not that I'm saying that there were actually good ones). As crazy as this may sound, countless times have I wished for "Django Unchained's" King Schultz to just magically appear out of nowhere, saunter along Epps' cotton plantation, and just blow his brains out. But then again, this is not how films work. Trust me, though; you will surely have a desire to really rewatch "Django Unchained", what with its not-so-diplomatic way of getting rid of the slave trade, as a sort of natural post-viewing reaction. It's that infuriating a film.  

For some, "12 Years a Slave" may come across as a film that desperately asks for pity the same way beggars ask for alms, or perhaps unnaturally incites moral indignation the same way how films about anything remotely biblical upset hardcore believers. But what it is certainly not, for sure, is a film devoid of emotional power. For only 2 hours, the film was able to delineate the violent extent of bigotry, both in action and in words, without resorting to unnecessary discourses about the politics of the situation. The film is assured in its stance about racism, but its power comes not from the white characters' shocking utterances of the 'N' word or from the disturbing scenes involving slaves and whips but from the tranquil scenes of the laborers humming soulfully while harvesting cotton, singing sadly yet defiantly while they bury a dead colleague, and from scenes of them painfully trying to keep their human decency intact even in the face of inhumanity. And if ever the age of slavery has taught us anything, then it is the fact that it never hurts to once in a while look back in retrospect and reflect at things that ultimately matter. 

"12 Years a Slave", undoubtedly one of the best films of 2013, is hardly a crash course about the historical scope of slavery, or even a cinematic indictment of all its evils. Looking at it personally, the film is essentially a story of resilience in a time when hope usually gets swatted away by condescending slaps and skin-tearing whiplashes. And kudos to Steve McQueen, who has finally made a relatively mainstream film but was still able to preserve his trademark aesthetics (that unsettling long take when Solomon Northup is hanging on a tree), he has created another film, after "Hunger", that marvels at the strength of the human spirit and makes the pain of proving it seem yet again palpable and all too real.

FINAL RATING 

Shame (Steve McQueen)

Brandon.

It's a coincidence for this film to have included a reference to "Gimme Shelter" (describing it as 'hell') because, along with the said Rolling Stones documentary, "Shame" is really one of the few films that has truly left me shaken, despite of its polished filmmaking facade, because what it shows is all too real. And despite of its extreme sexual content, this is also one of the few instances that it was absolutely necessary. 

But aside from that, "Shame" is also my solid proof, based on their powerful performances, that Michael Fassbender and Carey Mulligan are genuine acting forces to be reckoned with. "Shame", for a lack of a better description, is what "American Psycho" would be minus the killer instinct and the violence but with uncontrollable lust and utter regret as their substitutes. And unlike the said Mary Harron adaptation of the Bret Easton Ellis novel, "Shame" speaks volumes of truth that "American Psycho" can't even muster to raise save for its satiric tone towards '80s yuppie narcissism. Oh, and did I forget that "Shame" has heart?

Composed of scenes that have seemingly rendered New York city as a 'sleepy' metropolis merely populated by few nightly nocturnes roaming the city's underground bar and sex club scenes, "Shame" is an intense character study of one man leading an all too isolated sexual life in an all too big a city with little to no care in the world. 

Living in a posh, minimalist apartment filled with boxes and boxes of pornographic materials and a steady income more than adequate for some nightly prostitutes, Brandon (Michael Fassbender), originally born in Ireland and has grown in New Jersey, is now living his own version of the American Dream. And where's better to consume it in excessively emotionless amounts than in the so-called center of the world that is New York City?

But then we can't accuse Brandon of not going after any emotional connections either. Trying his romantic luck with a co-worker named Marianne (Nicole Beharie), he forces himself towards love; an idea, along with marriage, that he was otherwise skeptic about. 

But like Travis Bickle's complete opposite, a character that's desperately in search for some genuine romantic attachment, Brandon's intended connection with Marianne might have been done just so he can tell to himself that at least he has tried this pesky little 'love' thing. And assuring himself with that fact, that he can't really exist within the context of genuine romantic affection (marked by his inability to have proper sex with her), he once again wills himself back to his empty pleasures.

For Brandon, his is a life worthy of envy, but not until his quite unstable sister Sissy (Carey Mulligan) unexpectedly comes to visit. With too simple a story, also written by its director Steve McQueen, we are given an unforgettable tale of obsession and sexual descent. But given that those themes have been tackled in many films before, "Shame" separates itself by highlighting another: the painful, guilt-ridden emotions the morning after. 

There's this powerful scene in the film that shows Brandon, after spending a night of sexual experimentation, in a complete emotional breakdown. Twisting his body in a semi-fetal position and gnashing his teeth, with fists closed, he implodes in a controlled and inhibited rage not towards the prostitutes and the sexual materials that have been the instruments of his sexual excesses, but towards himself.

Michael Fassbender, in probably the most overlooked but also maybe the best performance of 2011, has painted and embodied a painfully complex character in the form of Brandon. By conveying a very convincing and an almost frightening character transformation, from a silent and laid back young professional into a sex-chasing desperation-incarnate to a poor sap trapped within his own compulsions, not to mention Brandon's intimate yet hostile relationship with his sister, Fassbender has brilliantly portrayed a modern man's conflict between extreme hedonism and familial affection. 

What would he choose more? a path of sexual self-destruction or his dysfunctional relationship with his sister? The fine line has already been blurred, and maybe, just maybe, Brandon can handle them both, but not without any absolute consequences, and with a hand 'shamefully' covering a side of his face. 

"Shame", one of my most anticipated films of 2011, has equated my hype towards it and has introduced unto me a major collaborative force in the form of Michael Fassbender and Steve McQueen. Fassbender, who has portrayed a revolutionary psychiatrist in "A Dangerous Method", has now played here in "Shame" a man who might be in dire need of one.

FINAL RATING