December 3, 2011: I won’t lie by saying that I didn’t plan seeing this film. At the time, it was my freshman year at Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts, which is quite a distance from New York City. Graciously, the school was hosting a day trip down to the city the weekend Shame was released. I paid the $16 to go, planned what I would do on the bus for the three and a half or so hours (thank God for books), and plan out what I would possibly do in the city (it wasn’t the first time I’ve been there). Everything was looking perfect.
Well, except for one small detail.
Over Thanksgiving break a week or so earlier, I told my parents about the trip. (Not my plans though.) They didn’t too affected by it at the time but on the night before I was supposed to leave, my parents called to say they were coming down to the city to be with me. (I live in New York, about three hours away from NYC by train.) Of course, being the teenager that I am, I told them I was fine since I had been down there enough times to get familiar with it. That didn’t work, but I did get only my mother to come down instead of both of them.
It was no surprise I was a little pissed when I got off the bus because I knew my mother would be sitting next to me as I watched a film about a sex addict. (I’m 18, for God’s sake!) But thankfully my mood softened up as the morning wore on. A few hours before we got to the theater, I told my mother about my true plans for being down in the city. (She read a review or two on her phone afterwards, and said it sounded like a good film.)
Anyway, my mother graciously didn’t ask me a bunch of questions before, during or after the film about the people involved or why a innocent girl like me would want to see a film like Shame. (She did tell me she thought about leaving the theater as she was watching it because it was a very overwhelming film to her.) Like another fellow blogger, I was blown away by what Steve McQueen and Michael Fassbender had to offer. (Where the bloody hell were their Oscar nominations?) The added bonus from seeing this with my mother? She finally realized how devoted I am to film.
When evening fell, my mother took the train back upstate and I took the bus back to Massachusetts. I finished my review in a surprisingly short period of time. (That only happens when I see a film I just love to bits.) And now, thinking about it almost eight months later, that was one hell of an experience. God, now I really want to re-watch it…
With thanks, Anna.