Shortbus

John Cameron Mitchell's sophomore effort is a pleasing film, mixing amiable performances with hardcore rumpy-pumpy which is queer in every possible way. It is a collaborative effort - Mitchell thanks the actors in developing the story in workshops, crediting Mike Leigh and John Cassavetes with their approach to story construction. That generous nature is a double-edged sword - in that we enjoy the time spent watching it, but never feel the artistic need for self-expression. This was prevalent in auteur Mitchell's brilliant debut, Hedwig And The Angry Inch. Shortbus is less an Angry Inch, more of a cheerful mile.

Many column inches assert Shortbus is the most graphically explicit film ever passed uncut 18 by the BBFC outside the porn industry. It avoids the unnervingly dull cerebral sincerity of Michael Winterbottom's 9 Songs and the expostulating cinema of Catherine Breillat by wearing its heart on its sleeve. Its well-chosen, attractive and youthful cast are comfortable with sexuality and drama in the same breath. Shortbus will break yer British taboos, and yet all will be right with the world.

Shortbus deals with three main story threads; James (an excellent Paul Dawson) is a former male escort, who is battling depression with his loving partner Jamie. They visit Sofia (Sook-Yin Lee), a sex therapist ("relationship counselor" - she asserts) who is having some trouble of her own in the bedroom. She is "preorgasmic", having never achieved sexual fulfillment - she's been faking it forever. The final story in our triplet belongs to Severin (Lindsay Beamish), a dominatrix seeking some real love in her life.

Our film begins as it means to go on - it introduces our three main characters quickly. Starting with a five-minute edit involving self-fellatio for James, nearly every frustrated position of the Kama Sutra for Sofia, and a vicious spanking session dished out by Severin. This climaxes in a hilarious spattering critique of modern art. This scene is an interesting effort in bringing sex and drama together so intimately. Fate leads each of these souls to the Shortbus, a sexual sugar-coated wonderland where Mitchell brings art, sex, poetry and politics down under one roof. All you need do if you want a change is to open another door in the labyrinth, leaving commitment behind.

Jamie and James quickly find another cutie, Ceth ("with a C"), for a menage a trois in the guise of sexual healing. Before long, these three abuse The Star Spangled Banner in a way I never dreamed possible in an American motion picture. Sofia delves into a room full of lesbians seeking out the secret to orgasmic success, conversations about "man-ginas" both enlightening and often toe-curling. Sofia and Severin eventually meet and make a pact to try to solve each other's hangups.

Brian Kates links the film using a beautiful (believably hand-crafted) model of New York by animator John Bair, whizzing in and out of apartment windows - creatively avoiding budgetary constraints - on a citywide blackout. It's an unsubtle hint that Mitchell is content to leave this in the realm of fable, to force a logical conclusion. The most acidic quotes come from Shortbus' mistress of ceremonies - Justin Bond (playing himself) - "These people spend all night sucking cock and eating ass, and then hit the buffet claiming they're vegan."

Attempting to politicise the film feels heavy-handed and fruitless. Spanking sessions within spitting distance of Ground Zero; a confessional former mayor of New York (inspired by Ed Koch, no doubt) weeping as he seeks forgiveness. His sin - not doing enough about the AIDS epidemic, due to being locked in the closet while in office. "New York is where everyone comes to get fucked" - he gravely asserts.

Shortbus prefers breadth to depth, tangents to characterisation - Mitchell never delves deeply into his characters. Casualties include James' filmmaking and suicidal tendencies (echoes of Jonathan Caouette's incredible Tarnation), swept aside just as they become interesting. A moment with a remote-control vibrating egg reminds us more of a crude Farrelly Brothers comedy than the tone set up until that point.

The point at which the movie lets down its hair, and where it loses much of its impact, is the finale, where Mitchell recreates the 2003 New York blackout - all the Shortbus regulars stage a singalong and candle party. The simplistic message: "All we need is love", with a bearded Paul McCartney lookalike serving up the music for Mitchell's love-in. Shortbus is an immature poem about how loneliness feels. The profundity is in the delivery, not in its message.