Shame (2011)

Shame received rave reviews when it was released in late 2011. As is usually the case with movies critics love, it didn't make much money. But it had a great buzz about it, so I decided to watch it last night. I even learned a couple of things from it.

First. Michael Fassbender has a huge cock. There's really no way of not noticing that, given that it makes several appearances in just the first seven minutes of the film. My more inexperienced female readers should avoid Shame at all costs because das Fassbender putz will frighten you directly into lesbianism and I imagine that most of you can't pull off the haircut.

That fucker is more like something you'd see in a Japanese monster movie and, make no mistake, one day it will destroy Tokyo. I'm above average in the pants, and I was more than just intimidated by it. I was shamed.

I also learned that society's moral character is rapidly disintegrating. Things that never used to be problems are suddenly things that make life almost worthless. It's disgusting and inane. I was hoping that Shame would mock this phenomenon, but it seems to affirm it.

Fassbender plays Brandon and Brandon has a very needy wang, indeed. Luckily, he works in the advertising industry, so he can sit around watching internet porn in his office all day and go to the can to jerk off whenever the mood strikes him. He also fucks practically everyone who crosses his path, except one particularly cute black chick, I assume because he has a racist penis, like John Mayer's. And yes, I'm as disturbed by the visual as you probably are.

Apparently gaining that much carnal gratification makes one very sad, although that's hardly been my experience. Maybe I'm a sexual anomaly  but I hardly ever feel like weeping after I cum. Sure, there was that one time, but in fairness, I was pretty drunk, on coke and had just fucked for six hours. The tears just proved that I wasn't completely dehydrated, which was a relief! Brandon, on the other hand, seems depressed by poontang all the time.  Just when you start to think he might be homo, he gets blown in a gay bar and that doesn't cheer him up, either.

Brandon has a sister named Sissy, whose reason for existing I can't figure out unless it's to annoy me. But she looks reasonably good naked, so Brandon's boss fucks her in his apartment while Brandon jogs to Madison Square Garden, where no one touches his no-no places.

At one point, Brandon gets his ass kicked for hitting on a skinhead's girl, but then he gets suck-started in the gay bar and bangs two comely whores; an Asian and a blonde, which you would think would make him feel better. Instead, he just keeps fucking crying all the time.

Presumably because her brother is such a weepy shithead, Sissy tries to off herself and fails. Brandon cries yet again. God knows how he gets laid with an attitude like that. Oh right, he has an enormous wang. But to watch they guy, you'd think that he's allergic to vagina for all the supposed pain it causes him.

Shame begins with Brandon on the subway, flirting with a smoking hot married redhead. It ends with them flirting again, although this time she looks even hotter. We're left to think that this is some kind of condemnation instead of rightly concluding that Brandon is just a self-pitying dick. And he's not even self-pitying in a witty and adorable way, like me.

I just want to point out to the ladies out there that not all guys with massive muffbusters are like Brandon. Most of us are more than happy to ruin you for all other men, and sometimes we won't even clear out your bar while doing it.

For you to think otherwise would be, well, a shame.

The only way I can get the mess of Shame out of my head, and I suspect that the same applies for you, is ten solid hours of Kate Upton's titties doing the bouncy-bouncy. I'm reluctant to call myself a hero, but I might just be the greatest hero of all.