In X-Men: First Class his special ability was attracting metal; now in sex drama Shame, Michael Fassbender is a full-time fanny magnet.
Yesterday I had quite the dilemma: either go and watch an advanced showing of Steven McQueen's highly acclaimed sex addict drama Shame at the London Film Festival, watch Liverpool and Manchester United fail to earn their wages on telly, or go back home and eat all my parents' fancy biscuits - truly I am a diverse and handsome gentleman.
I chose the last option, which meant missing out on some primetime Fassbending, but The Guardian have the first trailer for Shame to share, so I don't feel too bad about loading up on Fox's Raspberry Swirls.
Everything about it just screams 'prestige', doesn't it? A troubled protagonist? An Oscar-nominated 'English rose'? Heavy breathing and crumpled sheets? You're almost willing to forgive the overused 'classy' font (Futura, also used by The Hangover: Part II) and the ringing endorsement from gramatically-challenged broadsheet 'The Independant'.
I'll catch Shame next time it's screened (as long as it doesn't coincide with another 'must win' game or my stomach rumbling), but am happy in the knowledge that I have already seen Fassbender's cum face.
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