After the release of Hunger (2008), McQueen began developing the film with producers Iain Canning and Emile Sherman, and screenwriter Morgan. Michael Fassbender, was McQueen's first and only choice to play the lead role. By January 2011, Carey Mulligan, James Badge Dale, and Nicole Beharie were cast. Casting director Avy Kaufman had a unique assignment from McQueen, who wanted top-quality actors even for tiny parts – like Brandon's fly-by-night sexual partners. At the same time, with a budget of $6.5 million, principal photography commenced, and took place throughout New York for twenty-five days.
The film stars Fassbender, Mulligan, Badge Dale, and Beharie. Powerful performances were given by the cast, especially from Fassbender. One of the most powerful things Fassbender's performance did was to help us understand his character whose behaviour seems foreign and inexplicable.
Unflinching, uncompromising, vivid and vital, McQueen's challenging sophomore effort is not for the faint hearted, but it's still a richly rewarding retelling of troubled times. Shockingly immediate and philosophically reflective, the film is an indelibly moving examination of what makes us human. McQueen's way of showing the body itself as an arsenal, arguably the last weapon any of us have to fight back. The film shows that McQueen is a real film-maker and his background in art has meant a fierce concentration on image, an unflinching attention to what things looked like, moment by moment. The film, with all its visual, sonic and editing elements flowing together in harmony like a five-star, six-course meal, exemplifies the phrase art film. McQueen's film is a nuanced masterpiece that never flaunts its artistry, but uses it humbly to serve the all-important story. McQueen understands the first principle of cinema. On either side of its middle section, where the very wordiness stands ironic witness to the ultimate impossibility to explain, Hunger has the power and hieratic integrity of silent cinema. Intense, disturbing and powerful mix of vision and detail: a recreation of a terrible time combined with a vivid and distinctive artistic sensibility. Truly powerful filmmaking. Imagine how most filmmakers would tell this story and then see the film: the differences are bold and powerful and restore faith in cinema's ability to cover history free from the bounds of texts and personalities. It's not an easy watch – but it's an invigorating one. Long live McQueen. The film may be criticized for being willfully arty, or for reducing a complex political situation to a broadly allegorical vision of martyrdom, but it's never less than visually stunning. A superbly balanced piece of work and a compelling drama that's also a formalist triumph.
Unflinching, uncompromising, vivid and vital, McQueen's challenging sophomore effort is not for the faint hearted, but it's still a richly rewarding retelling of troubled times. Shockingly immediate and philosophically reflective, the film is an indelibly moving examination of what makes us human. McQueen's way of showing the body itself as an arsenal, arguably the last weapon any of us have to fight back. The film shows that McQueen is a real film-maker and his background in art has meant a fierce concentration on image, an unflinching attention to what things looked like, moment by moment. The film, with all its visual, sonic and editing elements flowing together in harmony like a five-star, six-course meal, exemplifies the phrase art film. McQueen's film is a nuanced masterpiece that never flaunts its artistry, but uses it humbly to serve the all-important story. McQueen understands the first principle of cinema. On either side of its middle section, where the very wordiness stands ironic witness to the ultimate impossibility to explain, Hunger has the power and hieratic integrity of silent cinema. Intense, disturbing and powerful mix of vision and detail: a recreation of a terrible time combined with a vivid and distinctive artistic sensibility. Truly powerful filmmaking. Imagine how most filmmakers would tell this story and then see the film: the differences are bold and powerful and restore faith in cinema's ability to cover history free from the bounds of texts and personalities. It's not an easy watch – but it's an invigorating one. Long live McQueen. The film may be criticized for being willfully arty, or for reducing a complex political situation to a broadly allegorical vision of martyrdom, but it's never less than visually stunning. A superbly balanced piece of work and a compelling drama that's also a formalist triumph.
Simon says Shame receives: