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August 26, 2005 > Arts & Entertainment > ‘Song’ proves sex and rock ‘n’ roll a volatile mix

‘Song’ proves sex and rock ‘n’ roll a volatile mix

By Jonathan Schumann | Thresher Editorial Staff

Jonathan Schumann

Thresher Editorial Staff

9 Songs, the new film from British director Michael Winterbottom (24 Hour Party People), does not have high ambitions. The film does nothing but follow two young hipsters as they frequent concerts and engage in an amorous love affair. Winterbottom seems satisfied with this minimalist set-up, and for a while, the audience is too. Ultimately, though, the film’s graphic depiction of sex and Winterbottom’s utter refusal to plumb the characters’ emotional depths makes 9 Songs feel like a dirty movie dressed up with pretense for the art house crowd.

The depiction of sex in film has always been a controversial subject. Nothing seems to grab headlines quite like an ingenue’s decision to expose her breasts, or the rare instance when a leading man chooses to show off the full monty. Just think of how much attention Halle Berry, Colin Farrell, Charlize Theron and Ewan McGregor have gotten for their on-screen nudity. And while sex can be integral to a film’s narrative — Berry and Billy Bob Thornton’s sex scene in Monster’s Ball provided invaluable emotional intensity — it is often a gratuitous venture.

The type of sex depicted in 9 Songs, as excessive as it is, cannot fairly be called gratuitous. Because Winterbottom only reveals the intimate moments in this couple’s life, the viewer has no larger context for the relationship. Instead of providing meaningful dramatic scenes fleshing out the motivations behind and the contradictions inherent in the love affair between Matt (24 Hour Party People’s Kieran O’Brien) and Lisa (newcomer Margo Stilley), all the audience gets is sex and rock ‘n’ roll.

The film’s almost nonexistent narrative structure consists of live concert performances from some of independent rock’s finest — The Dandy Warhols, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Elbow and the Super Furry Animals to name a few— followed by raw, pornographic sex scenes.

Unlike most legitimate films, the sex scenes here are real, not simulated. Instead of creating an intimate connection between character and audience member, this technique creates a dirty, seamy feel.

It is more than a little surprising to see Winterbottom resort to such shock and awe tactics. He explored the lives of journalists in Bosnia with exceptional poignancy in Welcome to Sarajevo and told a very different, much more powerful love story in the science-fiction thriller Code 46. But with this film he seems to have forgotten crucial storytelling elements like character and dramatic conflict. He comes across as the cinematic equivalent of a two-year-old, fascinated with bodily functions and little else. And while neither O’Brien nor Stilley has sufficient talent to elevate the material, they are given little more to do than sway in a concert hall and have sex.

Even the music, as dreamy, seductive and well-performed as it is, really does nothing to add depth to the relationship between the two characters. It only creates a brooding atmosphere and places the couple in a specific social and cultural niche. In addition to the alternative rock, Winterbottom uses Michael Nyman’s classical piano to accompany several sex scenes, presumably with the intention of lending some depth and class to the proceedings. But when the dialogue ranges from “Baby, why don’t you pay attention to me?” to “Do it faster, faster!” this is, of course, impossible.

Ultimately, 9 Songs feels like two-thirds of a film. (Its meager 69-minute running time alone is enough to make it feel incomplete.) We have the sex and the music, but we are missing the heart.

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