Directed by:
John Cameron MitchellScreenplay:
John Cameron MitchellCinematography:
Frank G. DeMarcoComposer:
Yo La TengoCast:
Sook-Yin Lee, Lindsay Beamish, Raphael Barker, Adam Hardman, Bitch, Peter Stickles, Daniel Sea, Miriam Shor, Mickey Cottrell, Mary Beth Peil, Jonathan Caouette (more)Plots(1)
Male and female, straight and gay, the characters find one another – and eventually find themselves – when they all converge at a weekly underground salon called "Shortbus," a mad world of art, music, politics, and polysexual carnality. (official distributor synopsis)
Reviews (3)
If Shortbus had been made twenty years ago, I would have said that it is a bad film, but also that it attempts to push boundaries and break taboos. But it is the 21st century, and in cinema, we have become accustomed to practically anything, so I can focus on the content of the film, which is unfortunately desperately shallow. It is neither a generational statement (at least I think and hope not) nor a drama nor a comedy, and although Shortbus features all kinds of sexual acts and accumulates erotic aids to the point where they could fall off the screen or television, surprisingly, it does not come across as erotic. It may serve as a certain sexual instruction for the ignorant or those who know too little about human biology, but the erotic atmosphere is simply missing. Films like Quiet Days in Clichy did not pretend to be great art, but they depicted the bohemian society of their time in a quite spicy way. Shortbus is completely sterile in this regard. I did not find a single character to root for, to fear for, or to despise. And the characters are not unbelievable characters and situations either. The only thing that makes the characters interesting is a huge dose of immaturity, not only in their intimate lives. However, even this fact is unintentionally conveyed by the film and I do not believe it was the director's goal. I do not believe in the numerous sexual superstitions suffered by the characters of the film or its creators. Shortbus is a film either for sexual beginners or for those who try to find a message in everything and, with enough effort, succeed in doing so. Just like someone manages to find a black cat in a dark room even though it is not there at all. Overall impression: 25%. The film desperately lacks any conflict and catharsis, resulting in dysfunctional soft porn. If you don§t have a solid script, exhibitionism tends to be pointless...
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Indie nonsense in which everyone has sex with everyone, but men with women only rarely. And when they do, it’s with unattractive women or emotionally vacant dominatrixes. A nice mirror of our times, um... Softcore erotica during which you’ll die before you get hard.
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Not so much shocking in its openness as it is rather surprising in the impotency of its script, all in an awkward package. John Cameron Mitchell's package of oddities attempts to use human sexuality as a path to depicting something greater, but this? This is nothing. Here, it hardens and gets into the characters' feelings by means of sexual practices or stupid phrases like "I've never had an orgasm", and there is nothing admirable or sensitive about that in my eyes. The Shortbus club itself does not appear as a cleansing place, only as a building where desperate individuals go to let loose and gather around the only acceptable, yet shockingly underused character of the owner, whether it's a regular Friday night or a crisis during a blackout throughout all of New York. In short, I'd rather be a puritan or a snob or something similar than realize the fateful truths of my existence right here. I have always sought answers in movies, but rather than receiving this one, I will forever stick to superficial entertainment.
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