When sex doesn't sell

So, what are we to make of Michael Winterbottom's Nine Songs? The film comes pre-packaged as a hot movie event, with 'tabloid scandal' writ large upon it, as it's the most sexually explicit mainstream British movie ever. And it is explicit, mainly concerning itself with the passionate sexual encounters between a young couple. But it's as far from erotic as can be imagined, and you rather feel like a voyeur watching two of your mates go at it. Straddling a no-man's land between porn and a legitimate film, it's not for those who think 'get a room' when seeing an amorous couple in public. With Nine Songs you’re actually in the room with them

The basic premise is thus: Matt (Kieran O'Brien) and Lisa (Margo Stilley) go to a lot of gigs, and have a lot of sex. Ta-da! The concert scenes, surprisingly, are invigorating, their smoky, energising roughness being so vividly realised that you immediately feel like standing in a soggy mosh pit swigging plastic beer yourself. And before and after every concert interlude (the 'Nine Songs' of the title) they get it on.

The sex — and it's the real deal here — is graphically, biologically realised, in every minute, sticky detail. We’re given barely any insight into Matt and Lisa's characters — the most we ever ascertain is that she's an American and a bit of a party animal and he, er, likes to have sex with her — because the brief scenes of dialogue are swiftly despatched in favour of more bedroom gymnastics. But very quickly the shock value dissipates, leaving you merely checking your watch or staring at the ceiling, as you wait for them to, ahem, finish up.

In order to convey some semblance of plot, Winterbottom hangs the story loosely upon an Antarctica-shaped hook. It's the place where Matt goes to escape after his relationship with Lisa goes awry, and punctuates the song/shag/song/shag composition at regular intervals. But, just like most of the film, this hits a bum note, being empty and irrelevant, with O'Brien's droning voice narrating bad sixth-form poetry ("She was 21, beautiful, egotistical and crazy") as he crunches up yet another snowy precipice.

Nine Songs is highly uncomfortable viewing, and not only if you feel twitchy at the thought of close-up erections, ejaculations, and long sections of sweaty groaning. It's actually extremely boring. All the feverish press speculation in the world, plus a short running time and plenty of rudey antics can't cover this sorry fact up. You don't care about Matt and Lisa, and so you certainly don't care about their 'romance' as they get it on for seemingly the thousandth time. It seems that being blinded by the 'innovative' values of his project has led Winterbottom to totally forgo the audience's enjoyment. And this is a crime it's hard to forgive a talented filmmaker for.

9 Songs
Cert: cert18