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Shortbus
Directed by John Cameron Mitchell
With Paul Dawson, Sook-Yin Lee, Raphael Barker, Lindsay Beamish, 'Kiki'
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All right, this is the movie you've been waiting for. Forget The Unfabulous Life of Ethan Green (which is actually pretty good), forget Summer Storm, and forget Another Gay Movie-- please, forget Another Gay Movie at all costs. John Cameron Mitchell's Shortbus is a very funny, extraordinarily sex, highly entertaining, ultimately very sweet chronicle of life and sex, and sex, and more sex in the age of George W. Bush and urban emotional fatigue.

Famous for writing (and starring in) Hedwig and the Angry Inch, John Cameron Mitchell here has created a terrific tapestry of contemporary sexual experience-- gay, straight, solo, group, anarchic, and orchestrated-- that weaves together the threads of several stories into a gorgeous group-grope-of-a-plot that is both incredibly moving as it is frequently funny.

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he plot here matters less than the feeling-- and the sex-- but the performances are on-target in their emotional nuance. James (Paul Dawson) and Jamie (PJ DeBoy) are in a committed relationship that needs work, though their problems have to do with the former's depression and the latter's determined optimism more than anything else. They go to see Sofia (Sook-Yin Lee), a therapist who has a problem with orgasms and a relationship with Rob (Raphael Barker) that, while active, is failing. Meanwhile, Severin (Lindsay Beamish) is a punked, bored, and lonely sex-worker-- she's a dominatrix who can barely conceal her contempt for her own life, never mind her clients'. There are other assorted characters-- such as two men who are interested in Jamie, James, or both-- who wander in and out of the film. But the emotional ups and downs and sexual adventures among these five people form the core of the story.

Not much happens-- people engage and disengage, they fuck, they jerk-off, they have threesomes, they rim each other, they fake orgasms, they use sex toys, they love and sometimes hurt each other. But they all congregate, for different reasons, at Shortbus, a sex-club/ halfway-house that is run by Justin Bond (Kiki of the famed team of Kiki and Herb). Here they discuss their problems, make new friends, and generally get better in a world that is falling apart.

Whistle while you work

Shortbus feels shapeless while you're watching it-- scenes flow into one another without much to-do, and it's a while before we catch on that the film is sewn together by emotion rather than narrative. But the after-effect is one of beautiful coherence. The moments that stand out are tremendous: James and Jamie in therapy both eager to save their relationship and not hurt one another, even as this fate feels inevitable; Severin discussing her sex life with a group of vaguely understanding lesbians; Sofia on the verge of tears as she tries to explain her sexual problems. The depth of feeling Mitchell elicits from a cast of mostly unknown performers is amazing.

But the "big news" of Shortbus is that it has more explicit sex than probably any other mainstreamish film. Yes, they are actually rimming (while humming "The Star-Spangled Banner," which makes it doubly impressive)-- and while such frankness is surprising at first, it becomes completely mundane. Well, not actually mundane (it is "The Star-Spangled Banner"), but ordinary, the way that sex often is simply an everyday occurrence, nothing special, but still fun because it is sex. Breaking Hollywood taboos, Mitchell reduces-- and in a way, elevates-- sex to a human activity. The rutting here never becomes clinical, or in the service of a political or sociological narrative. It's just meant to entertain and turn us on.

Mitchell, unlike many directors, has a simple attitude toward sexuality-- it's pleasurable, it's healing. In this way Shortbus feels often naive or utopian. (Sex can make a lot of things better, but not everything.) But just this fairly-tale quality makes the film so lovely and emotionally accessible. Midway through there's a short sequence-- an encounter between a young gay man and Ed Koch (unnamed, but clearly Ed Koch)-- in which the former mayor of New York explains why he was closeted and said so little during the AIDS epidemic. It's an audacious, chilling scene-- and catches you completely off-guard-- but in the end incredibly moving and loving. This is the sort of filmmaking that you only expect from a master like Louis Malle or Ingmar Bergman.

Destined to become a classic, especially on DVD (since major theater chains are reluctant to book it), Shortbus deserves all the attention it will assuredly receive over the years.

Author Profile:  Michael Bronski
	Michael Bronski is the author of Culture Clash: The Making of Gay Sensibility and The Pleasure Principle: Sex, Backlash, and the Struggle for Gay Freedom. He writes frequently on sex, books, movies, and culture, and lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
	Email:	mabronski@aol.com