It is always pleasing to see society progress and become increasingly more liberal in its views. The cinema seems to be doing so at any rate, particularly regarding the current art-house fad for showing explicit sexual imagery. Over the past ten years or so, films like Baise-Moi, Intimacy, The Idiots and Romance have featured hardcore material with the intention of 'saying something' about human sexual relationships. Rarely do they actually say anything of interest, and 9 Songs is certainly no exception.
9 Songs tells the 'story' of an Englishman (Keiran O'Brien) who embarks on a sexual relationship with a slightly kooky American girl (Margot Stilley). And that's it. Oh, and they go to some concerts. After trudging laboriously through the usual clichés (a weekend away; some kinky experimentation; episodes of boredom; the heroine experimenting with her sexuality; jealousy, etc.), the film ends with the predictable split.
If the dazzling unoriginality of the relationship itself isn't bad enough, then there is the mind-numbingly awful dialogue. Then there are the various lazy devices used to fill up the very slight (though humorous) running time of 69 minutes: the dull and pointless framing device (O'Brien recalls the relationship while on some expedition); the boring cutaways to live gigs (nine in all, hence the title) and scenes of 'crazy' behaviour (taking drugs, skinny-dipping). The film is very sloppily constructed and written, relying too much on improvisation from two incapable actors.
Which brings us to the sex. 9 Songs is the most sexually explicit mainstream film to be released in Britain. It features lingering shots of fellatio, penetration, ejaculation and so on, leaving very little out. True, it has pushed the boundaries of what is acceptable in commercial cinema, but unfortunately it is all for nought. The sex is explicit, but deeply unerotic. Winterbottom's cheap-looking photography/videography looks like some grainy home movie; worse, it looks like the grainy home movie of a very stealthy pervert, making the act of watching this movie feel extraordinarily uncomfortable. The film also gives no real insights into what makes humans tick as sexual companions; for that, look to the latter part of Gaspar Noe's Irreversible (2001), in which we see a realistic portrait of a relationship. Here, the couple is dull and lifeless, even when undergoing daring sexual explorations.
But surely the music saves it? Well, no it doesn't. If this film can make sex boring, then it's not going to be hard to make pop music deadening to sit through. Wobbling long shots and a muffled soundtrack reduce some good songs to the tedious plot-fillers they are.
Can someone tell me what happened to the Winterbottom of Jude or 24 Hour Party People, as he seems to have left the building (or should I say bedroom?). This film has no redeeming features whatsoever. Even its length falls short: this is the longest, most boring 69 minutes of sex you'll ever endure.
9 Songs tells the 'story' of an Englishman (Keiran O'Brien) who embarks on a sexual relationship with a slightly kooky American girl (Margot Stilley). And that's it. Oh, and they go to some concerts. After trudging laboriously through the usual clichés (a weekend away; some kinky experimentation; episodes of boredom; the heroine experimenting with her sexuality; jealousy, etc.), the film ends with the predictable split.
If the dazzling unoriginality of the relationship itself isn't bad enough, then there is the mind-numbingly awful dialogue. Then there are the various lazy devices used to fill up the very slight (though humorous) running time of 69 minutes: the dull and pointless framing device (O'Brien recalls the relationship while on some expedition); the boring cutaways to live gigs (nine in all, hence the title) and scenes of 'crazy' behaviour (taking drugs, skinny-dipping). The film is very sloppily constructed and written, relying too much on improvisation from two incapable actors.
Which brings us to the sex. 9 Songs is the most sexually explicit mainstream film to be released in Britain. It features lingering shots of fellatio, penetration, ejaculation and so on, leaving very little out. True, it has pushed the boundaries of what is acceptable in commercial cinema, but unfortunately it is all for nought. The sex is explicit, but deeply unerotic. Winterbottom's cheap-looking photography/videography looks like some grainy home movie; worse, it looks like the grainy home movie of a very stealthy pervert, making the act of watching this movie feel extraordinarily uncomfortable. The film also gives no real insights into what makes humans tick as sexual companions; for that, look to the latter part of Gaspar Noe's Irreversible (2001), in which we see a realistic portrait of a relationship. Here, the couple is dull and lifeless, even when undergoing daring sexual explorations.
But surely the music saves it? Well, no it doesn't. If this film can make sex boring, then it's not going to be hard to make pop music deadening to sit through. Wobbling long shots and a muffled soundtrack reduce some good songs to the tedious plot-fillers they are.
Can someone tell me what happened to the Winterbottom of Jude or 24 Hour Party People, as he seems to have left the building (or should I say bedroom?). This film has no redeeming features whatsoever. Even its length falls short: this is the longest, most boring 69 minutes of sex you'll ever endure.