A teacher lives a lonely life, all the while struggling over his son's custody. His life slowly gets better as he finds love and receives good news from his son, but his new luck is about to be brutally shattered by an innocent little lie.
Thomas Bo Larsen,
A motorcycle stunt rider turns to robbing banks as a way to provide for his lover and their newborn child, a decision that puts him on a collision course with an ambitious rookie cop navigating a department ruled by a corrupt detective.
Brandon is a 30-something man living in New York who is unable to manage his sex life. After his wayward younger sister moves into his apartment, Brandon's world spirals out of control. Shame examines the nature of need, how we live our lives and the experiences that shape us. Written by
During the jogging scene, Brandon is seen waiting at a stop light and in the background is an advertisement for the TV series Army Wives (2007). Lucy Walters, who plays the woman on the subway train, also appears in Army Wives as Amy Sandberg. See more »
Brandon is shown getting off an R train (which he had gotten on at 28th Street) at Fulton Street. But the R train doesn't go to Fulton Street. See more »
I'm trying, I'm trying to help you.
How are you helping me, huh? How are you helping me? How are you helping me? Huh? Look at me. You come in here and you're a weight on me. Do you understand me? You're a burden. You're just dragging me down. How are you helping me? You can't even clean up after yourself. Stop playing the victim.
I'm not playing the victim. If I left, I would never hear from you again. Don't you think that's sad? Don't you think that's sad? You're my brother.
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The idea that this movie scored an eight on this website is certainly more entertaining and intriguing than the movie itself. Fact is, this film is a lacking idea transformed into almost 2 hours of complete nonsense. Never have I seen a film this devoid of purpose or one that made me be entirely catatonic while watching nudity and sex, which is quite an achievement.
The people who are clutching at straws to cast meaning onto the vapid script and tenuous story line are the same people who spend thousands of dollars on paintings done by elephants that create these by means of trunk and the anticipation of peanuts. There were only the sounds of groans and involuntary mental spasms in the packed theater where I watched this. And a clear sigh of relief when after 6 hours, the credits finally rolled and people made their way to the exit stumbling over other attendants through the still barely illuminated theater.
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