Shortbus (2006) [Unrated] – DVD

***/**** Image B+ Sound A- Extras A-
starring Sook-Yin Lee, Paul Dawson, Lindsay Beamish, Justin Bond
written and directed by John Cameron Mitchell

by Travis Mackenzie Hoover I put John Cameron Mitchell’s Shortbus on my Top Ten for 2006. This was perhaps more for intent than for execution: ’06 was a pretty lousy year for cinema, and I was just happy to see something from this continent that wasn’t completely asleep at the switch. Still, I think it’s too easy to write the movie off (as many commentators have) as pie-in-the-sky warm-fuzzies. What impressed me most about Shortbus was that its famous nudity and hardcore sex had not been severed from the rest of human experience. Mitchell may not be an aesthetic master, but he’s onto something that few of the would-be indie rebels are: that there is no separating the person from the body, and that sex is as much a social and personal experience as it is a physical one. As the social/personal body is very likely to be a morass of guilt, doubt, confusion, and fatigue, the upbeat ending suggests a covering for a core of despair.

The plot (worked out through improvs with the rather large cast) begins predictably with a round-robin of sexual behaviour. Ex-hustler James (Paul Dawson) tapes himself performing autofellatio, dominatrix Severin (Lindsay Beamish) abuses a taunting john (and “trust fund Muppet”) named Jesse (Adam Hardman), and couples counsellor Sofia (Sook-Yin Lee) has a spirited round of lovemaking with her husband Rob (Raphael Barker). The first two instances end in sadness, the third in frustration: Severin clearly hates her job and her customer; James collapses in tears after he comes; and, during a therapy session with James and his boyfriend Jamie (PJ DeBoy), it’s revealed that Sofia, who seemed to us sexually content, has never had an orgasm. Extenuating circumstances make sex a trial or a mystery to all of the main characters–something that cannot be reduced or shrugged off.

A palliative must be found to bear the stress, and the characters seek it in Shortbus, a salon/theatre/orgy run by real-life famed New York scenester Justin Bond. It’s here where the lost and the abandoned (and the artsy and the hip) of the city find themselves unwinding, interacting, and acting out–though it only serves as a temporary respite. One is always aware of the despair lurking at the edges of the Shortbus, as if everybody knows that the play is merely a detour from the traumatic confusion of their daily routine. From the personal lives to the collective memory of 9/11, they’re trying to outrun their troubles: “It’s like the ’60s,” states Bond, “only with less hope.” This is what makes the film’s attempts at tying loose ends less disappointing than it might be–there is the Vonnegut sense that we’re seeing a snapshot of success as opposed to a foregone conclusion.

At any rate, the ending isn’t what stays with me. What does is James declaring that he hustled so he could learn how much he was worth, Sofia coming up with equivocal reasons for why she’s sexually blocked, and Severin tearfully declaring that she’s fed up with S&M and just wants a nice house and a cat. And miraculously, the way-hip milieu in which we find ourselves isn’t an attempt to seem cool: the film is at once very aware of how hipster accoutrements can be a symptom of something else. Pleasure in every form is respected and mistrusted, welcomed for its good warm feelings and censured for the times when it’s a half-understood metaphor for something else.

It’s an interesting phenomenon: a film entirely devoted to hipster characters that does its damnedest to deprogram the cheap irony that is the hipster’s stock in trade. Shortbus is non-judgmental where a hip kitty might be rushing to judgment; it’s not trying to knock you out with its superiority, offering instead a low-pressure medium for mixed emotions. At the risk of sounding like Armond White, it’s the heart-on-its-sleeve opposite number to something like The Brown Bunny–which, despite having been made with a thousand times the aesthetic capacity, is so utterly sure of its transgression and narcissistic in its personal focus that I’m driven back into Mitchell’s waiting arms. (The Brown Bunny has its qualities, but it’s a comparatively conventional take on personal anomie and sexual release.) Shortbus is far more cogent about not only the reasons people engage in sexual behaviour but also the baggage they drag into it. It’s not perfect, but it’s kinder and smarter than many films on the subject.

THE DVD
TH!NKFilm did what they could to deliver Shortbus to DVD in an optimal presentation–you can tell because the computer-generated scene transitions look immaculate. Alas, the 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen transfer is occasionally let down by the 16mm source: grain can be abundant in low-lit scenes and shadow detail is generally poor, though the colours are vibrant enough for a movie devoted to extroverted dress and design. While the Dolby Digital 5.1 audio is subdued and front-oriented in the manner of talk-heavy films, the songs by Yo La Tengo and others are incredibly potent.

Extras begin with a feature-length commentary from director Mitchell and cast members Bond, Lee, DeBoy, and Dawson that’s fun even when it’s not making a point; the group is quite witty (especially–and unsurprisingly–Bond) and sporadically get around to discussing the work, effort, and trepidation that went into the project. Meanwhile, “Gifted and Challenged: The Making of Shortbus” (30 mins.) is a Sundance Channel special that’s way ahead of the pack. Charting the film’s nebulous beginnings as “The Sex Film Project”, it shows the process by which mostly non-professional cast members were selected, the workshopping process, Sook-Yin Lee’s near-firing by the CBC, and various setbacks and triumphs on the way to the Cannes premiere. It’s blunt, rigorous, and way more vivid than other specials of its kind.

“How to Shoot Sex: A Docu-Primer” (8 mins.) is footage of the orgy scenes with off-camera direction by Mitchell and some interesting glances and remarks from the various “sextras” assembled for the occasion. Accompanying commentary by the subdued director and an excitable Lee is not so revelatory, although the range of cast reactions elicited therein suitably awes them. Eight deleted/extended scenes are mainly of the latter variety, the most interesting being a provocative conversation between Lee and a group of lesbians; there’s a bit with Lee groping through the woods that was wisely excised, as well as a “suite” telling the backstory of voyeur Caleb (Peter Stickles) that is wince-inducingly inappropriate and which I almost wish I never saw. Shortbus‘ theatrical trailer, teaser trailer, and Internet trailer plus trailers for Candy, Tideland, Off the Black, and Lie with Me round things out.

102 minutes; Unrated; 1.78:1 (16×9-enhanced); English DD 5.1; CC; French, Spanish subtitles; DVD-9; Region One; TH!NKFilm