“A film that provokes thought, pushes boundaries and leaves an indelible impression.”

Homosexuality was only decriminalized in the United Kingdom in 1967, which extended to all cinematic portrayals of intimacy between members of the same sex. However, it took several years for both audiences and the industry to be comfortable with anything more than the mere implication of gay romance, with the perception being that the country was not quite ready to embrace what was still seen as sexual deviance. How far we’ve come, as some of the most remarkable works of queer cinema have emerged from British artists over the past few decades, with the country becoming one of the most prominent in terms of exploring these themes. No longer do members of the LGBTQIA+ community need to linger in the shadows, with many tremendous works of queer fiction emerging over the years. The most recent example – and possibly one of the most compelling – comes from Harry Lighton, who makes his directorial debut with Pillion, an intense and passionate character-driven drama that consistently pushes boundaries.
The film is a daring, bold new vision from a director who makes an immediate case for himself as an exciting young voice in contemporary cinema. Pillion follows Colin, a mild-mannered, middle-class young man living a pleasant suburban life with his parents, and Ray, an enigmatic drifter who seemingly does not have a past. They encounter one another and begin a torrid love affair, built on their very different personalities that somehow manage to complement one another. However, their romance takes a slightly dark turn when it becomes clear that it is built on something vaguely more sinister than either of them is willing to admit. What starts as a relatively conventional master-servant relationship in which Ray uses Colin as a tool of sexual gratification through dominance (with the latter very willing to be as submissive as necessary) becomes increasingly complex as the two men get to know each other as more than just objects of desire, leading to their own crises of identity.
While crafting this film, Lighton drew inspiration primarily from the novel Box Hill by Adam Mars-Jones, with Pillion serving as an approximate adaptation (the plot remains quite similar, but there are changes to the setting and a few other details that allow the director to assert his vision onto an already terrific novel). The novel was fashioned as a radical and unique glimpse into a twisted same-sex relationship between two men from very different backgrounds, something that Lighton sets out to capture in his version of the story. The themes that persist throughout this film are both recognizable and unique – like many queer films, it centers around identity and the struggles of people attempting to fit into a society where their proclivities may be accepted legally, but are still viewed as being on the margins in terms of old-fashioned, yet still prominent, conservative values.
However, while it does comment on the conflict between queer individuals and their surroundings, Pillion is unconventional in terms of both its subject matter and how it is brought to life on screen. There is very little conflict in terms of exploring one’s identity – this is not a traditional coming-out story – with both of the main characters being open about their sexuality (and openly accepted by their family and friends, who view their sexual identity as just another part of them), neither one undergoing the inner turmoil that is often found in these stories. There is certainly an abundance of tension that emerges throughout the film, but the fact that we have such a well-crafted drama in which queerness as a whole is not viewed as the source of anguish, but rather as a part of their lives, is one of the fundamental reasons this film is such a resounding success. It leaves the door open for more provocative and subversive commentary about power dynamics, which emerges as the film progresses and becomes increasingly more complex.
The core of Pillion is built around the performances delivered by Harry Melling and Alexander Skarsgård, two incredible actors who have been mainstays in cinema for over two decades (in which both have worked with some of the finest writers and directors in the business). Yet they still manage to feel like they are reinventing themselves as performers with this film. The film is designed to showcase their very different personalities, and uses this as the impetus for some truly extraordinary narrative decisions. Melling’s sensitivity is perfectly counter-balanced by Skarsgård’s rough intensity, and their chemistry is remarkable – they play off each other exceptionally well, finding the harmony between these two characters as they go on their voyages of self-discovery. The vulnerability displayed by the leads is staggering, and it is far more than just the traditional ploy of a heterosexual actor attempting to play a queer character for gravitas – they commit wholeheartedly to the premise of the film, their performances running the gamut of emotions and anchoring the entire film.
As both a directorial debut and a piece of queer cinema, Pillion is a truly impressive work. Tonally, it is a masterful blend of dark humor and psychological thriller (and its refusal to aim for the low-hanging fruit is a tremendous merit), and its atmospheric approach is complemented by the exceptional soundtrack, consisting of a pulsating electronic score and a few well-known songs that are entirely redefined in the context of this film. Lighton is a gifted storyteller and a strong visual stylist, taking a challenging novel and extracting its core themes, working in close collaboration with both leads to create this audacious and confrontational achievement. Pillion proves to be an exceptional introduction to Lighton as a filmmaker, and it would be surprising if he did not flourish into one of the most exciting new voices in contemporary cinema; his ability to balance concept and execution are indicative of a clear set of talents in multiple areas, leading to a film that provokes thought, pushes boundaries and leaves an indelible impression.