Images from Shortbus. John Cameron Mitchell (right) with two of his film's stars.
The biggest surprise about Shortbus, John Cameron Mitchell's long-awaited follow-up to Hedwig and the Angry Inch, turns out not to be the graphic sexuality ( and it's all there, folks, right down to the money shots ) . Rather, it's that the film, an Altmanesque focus on a group of sexually frustrated New Yorkers, is so gloriously, unapologetically FUN about sex. Thirty years after The Rocky Horror Picture Show, someone has finally taken the challenge of the 'Don't dream it, be it' message of sexual freedom and playfulness to heart and put it on the screen. Remember giggling with delight at the profile of Dr. Frank-n-Furter in bed with first Janet and then Brad, one after the other? Shortbus has the same delicious frisson and an added smartness and emotional resonance about sex ( all kinds ) and love that are very powerful. I don't know how it's going to play in Peoria ( although I strongly suspect, tongue firmly planted in cheek, that conservatives will run in horror ) but based on its honesty alone, Shortbus is a cinematic breakthrough.
For a culture so obsessed with sex, it's amazing how often the reality of it in our lives is so rarely depicted on screen ( as opposed to the fantasy versions produced by the porn and entertainment industries ) . How appropriate is it that that this simple act would come from out writer-director-performer Mitchell, who is no stranger to pushing sexual boundaries in enormously creative ways. ( Take another look at Exhibit A, the rousing Hedwig, his debut film, as proof of that. )
The movie doesn't dawdle. It opens with James ( Paul Dawson ) in the tub filming his penis. Then he's masturbating. Soon he's outside the tub and pushing himself into a yoga position popular with men who have the unique ability to pleasure themselves, which James does. Meanwhile, Sofia ( Sook Yin-Lee ) and husband Rob ( Raphael Barker ) are going at in seemingly every position in the Kama Sutra. Then there's Severin ( Lindsay Beamish ) , the cranky dominatrix who's so bored she can barely be bothered to give one of her regulars what he's paid for. Mitchell cuts this opening montage to a sly musical commentary: Anita O'Day singing Is You Is Or Is You Ain't My Baby? As the song and the characters build to their respective climaxes ( or apparent ones ) we see that the physical act of sex—as fun and pleasurable as it obviously is—no longer is enough for these people.
Soon the melancholy James and perky boyfriend Jamie ( PJ DeBoy ) , after a first session in which they discuss bringing in a third sex partner with Sofia their couples counselor, are heading to Shortbus, a private club presided over by the hilarious, throaty Brothel Madame ( Justin Bond ) . A think tank made up of separate rooms ( including one just for womyn ) filled with acolytes of sexual freedom, witty banter, performance art and insightful conversation, Shortbus is a sort of modern day combination of Gertrude Stein's Parisian salon and the infamous '70s New York pleasure dome, Plato's Retreat. Here all the characters ( including the dour but actually insecure Severin, who ends up making a connection with Sofia ) let it all hang out ( literally in the orgy room ) and help each other try to emotionally reconnect anew in and out of the club.
The richly layered script was written by Mitchell after months of character development exercises between the actors and it shows. There's a lot of very insightful, funny observation and the inclusion of small details that ring true for both heated up strangers and couples familiar and comfortable with each others sexual habits. I especially loved the sexy, funny scene with James, Jamie and their boy toy of choice singing the national anthem in the midst of a three-way and the conversations between Severin and Sofia as they meet each night in a sensory deprivation tank.
A misstep ( the movie's biggest one ) : Aside from being sexually adventurous ( read: pansexual ) , the celebrants are also young and have great physiques. At one point, the ample buttocks of a large woman is glimpsed and one elderly gay man, in an obvious nod to former New York mayor Ed Koch, is given screen time. But mostly this is a sexual palace for those with comely figures and faces. My libido liked it but I was aware that it went against the grain of the movie's 'don't dream it, be it' theme and it suddenly seemed suspect. Where were the ugly Betties? The bears? The large and lovelies? The not so shapely show tune queens? The trannies of both genders?
And though I liked the irony of having the Koch character become the wise sage for the club, saying things like, 'New York is where everyone comes to be forgiven,' the speech in which he admits he could have done more during the AIDS crisis is a bittersweet example of wishful thinking on Mitchell's part. I'm not quite ready to absolve those who were in charge at the height of the crisis—even fictional versions—of their implicit guilt in letting what has become a pandemic take hold because of ignorance, homophobia or fear for their own outing. As for AIDS and STDs—the movie makes a point of showing characters pulling out the condoms and love supplies before diving into sex which emphasizes the 'play safe' message without hammering it over the head.
The film ends with a rousing song ( one of several—all terrific—featured throughout ) . It's led by Bond ( appropriate, as Bond's alter ego is the singing half of the phenomenally successful duo Kiki & Herb ) . By the time the Brothel Madame begins to lead the Shortbus devotees in a rousing chorus of In the End,—a song finale that seems both homage to Fellini's clowns, the Cockettes and, yes, Rocky Horror—all the characters ( and perhaps some in the audience ) have come to embrace the 'don't dream, be it' mantra and to understand Mitchell's assertion that sexuality is a lot more fluid than labels would lead one to think. That idea, so joyfully presented in a time with our country deep in conservative denial, makes Shortbus a revolutionary movie—and a hell of a sexy one to boot.
_____
Local screening of note: Ever wonder where that cup of Starbucks or Caribou or Folger's comes from? Black Gold answers that question. It's an eye-opening documentary that examines the coffee craze that has swept America and made big profits for corporations ( coming in second in profitability behind oil, the other black gold ) at the expense of the workers in third world countries. It plays at the Gene Siskel Film Center Oct. 13-19. This is a Chicago premiere.
See www.siskelfilmcenter.org .
_____
Check out my archived reviews at www.windycitytimes.com or www.knightatthemovies.com . Feedback can be left at the latter Web site.