Reviewed by Jerome D'Angelo
“Welcome to ‘Shortbus’!” declares Justin Bond as his queer-iconic alter-ego Kiki. “A place for the truly unique and gifted.” Apparently, though, there was no room on this particular bus for anyone who knew how to tell a story.
Shortbus, and the many subplots therein, revolves around Sophia (Sook-Yin Lee), a married sex therapist who describes herself as “pre-orgasmic.” In other words, as she explains to the young gay couple named James and Jamie (Paul Dawson, PJ Deboy respectively) whom she is analyzing, she’s never had an orgasm in her life. This comes as bit of a surprise, considering that the first five minutes of the film before she reveals this little factoid sees Ms. Sophia getting reamed every which way by her husband Rob (Raphael Barker) in a delectable montage that is Shortbus’ best scene. The rest of the film leaves much to be desired.
When James and Jamie recommend Sophia attend a sex/art/free-expression party, a la the 1960s, in modern-day Brooklyn, its sets the scene for what becomes a whirlwind of emotional and sexual soul searching. With several different plotlines running at once, Shortbus starts out as chaotic as the lives of its characters. James and Jamie are experimenting, albeit a bit awkwardly, with bringing in another man to their relationship. Sophia nervously navigates the rooms that make up Shortbus, and watches everyone cumming and going but is unable to get any satisfaction herself. Her husband attends with her, but works the party by himself, holding the remote to a vibrator she has between her thighs so they could “communicate.” Fellow partygoers include a dominatrix-for-hire looking to leave the life and find actual love (Lindsay Beamish), a young man Ceth who’s the object of James and Jamie’s mutual affection (Jay Brannan), and Calib (Peter Stickles) a voyeur who’s stalking James. Rounding out the cast is the one and only Justin Bond, or Kiki if you prefer, played so artfully by himself, who serves as the film’s sexual Yoda.
Despite trying very, very hard to seem deep and complex, Shortbus just doesn’t deliver on its storyline. It addressed many demographics that, sadly, infrequently find their way into mainstream film, but doesn’t do a fantastic job of making the viewer really feel for them. This seemed like much more a result of director John Cameron Mitchell (Hedwig and the Angry Inch) not editing the film especially well than any poor job done by the cast. In fact, Justin Bond was excellent, but we don’t see enough of him/her.
Shortbus drags like the overused vagina of one of its older patrons whom Bond describes as hanging “like a wizard’s sleeve,” a joke which smacked of rip-off (the same line was used in Borat). The heavy back-and-forth dialogues between all the characters that Shortbus attempts to connect grows weary as well. Few films begin so well and end so poorly. And few films with that much raw sexual energy feel as dull.
The film is certainly worth a look, however. Its casting is perfect, if underutilized. Everyone in this film “looks” their part fabulously. The sex, which there is a whole lot of, is well choreographed, especially in the Eyes Wide Shut-esque gang bang sequences. The movie opens with Dawson’s character videotaping himself trying to suck his own dick, at which he is eventually successful. In the next frame, we see Sophia atop a Pilates ball while fellating her ecstatic husband.
But these scenes are Shortbus’ real strength, not its plot. And as storytelling goes, you might as well be watching the high-end porno flick that Shortbus appeared to be born out of.
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