Director and writer Harry Lighton depicts a universal toxic relationship dynamic through the guise of a queer BDSM romance film.
By Maxwell Fong
After premiering in the U.K. four months prior, I was really looking forward to seeing Pillion with my friend Malik, whom I had not seen since September. He showed up in a T-shirt and jeans, coming directly from work, but also donning his chain and padlock necklace, as well as a drawstring bag with the rubber pride flag embellished on it. When we walked into the theater, we saw others wearing leather jackets and pants from Mr. S Leather. It was evident that this was a much-anticipated movie by the BDSM community.
Pillion is a film adapted by Harry Lighton from the 2020 novel Box Hill by Adam Mars-Jones. Colin (played by Harry Melling), a meek wallflower beloved by his parents, falls head over heels (or leather boots, rather) for Ray (played by Alexander Skarsgård), a prepossessing and possessive biker dom. As Colin comes to actualize his identity and discover his desires, he also has to grapple with his mother being terminally ill and Ray being emotionally unavailable.
This film was phenomenal and captivating from start to finish. Even though the film was marketed as a “BDSM rom-com”, the story is that of self-discovery at its core, which is told through a toxic relationship presented through a BDSM lens. It is ultimately a story about Colin’s growth as a young queer person and Ray’s inability to open up emotionally. Because the core story works, everything else falls into place and enhances and texturizes the story. The sex scenes and motorcycle jackets (or as Little Mix would call them, “motorbike”) are not just for fluff and theatrics, but rather important turning points for their relationship dynamic. The narrative arcs and character traits are set up perfectly and intentionally, and I loved the pacing of most of the film; the only thing I would nitpick on is how clunky the ending felt.
Both actors were amazing in their roles. Obviously, Melling had the bigger part to play, and the range he showcased alongside the emotional journey of Colin was fantastic, from desperation to grief to rebellion to adoration. To my delighted surprise, Skarsgård was able to convey so many subtle emotions, even as an emotionally constipated, stoic authority. In a sense, Ray is also discovering what he actually wants and needs, like Colin, except he has no emotional resilience. Colin and Ray’s relationship is nuanced and fluid, and not being afraid to dwell in that grey area and blurred boundaries is what makes this film so great.
This muddy relationship dynamic is one that I have rarely seen encapsulated on film. As a young queer person, Colin’s worldview has been set up by his parents and their understanding of queerness, as evidenced by an arranged date by his mother in the beginning. Ray shows up and opens Colin’s mind (and hole), and eventually goes as far as defending their relationship in front of Colin’s parents, which is my favorite scene of the film. Ray says to Colin’s mom at the dinner table: “Deciding that what makes you comfortable is bad for your son.” On the one hand, Ray is absolutely right in calling her out on conforming her son to her expectations, but on the other hand, Ray is using Colin’s trust and the foil of progressivism to treat him poorly, refusing to tend to Colin’s needs and form a romantic connection. Because of Colin’s people-pleasing character and not knowing any better, he ends up settling for scraps and convinces himself that this is what a relationship looks like. This emotional torture is harder than any boot licking and butt fucking he has to endure.
As Malik and I walked out of the theater, we both reminisced about past relationships we had when we were younger, where the power dynamics felt extremely similar to that of this film. Right when I turned 20, I dedicated my life to someone 15 years older, only to find out his emotions flipped on a dime, and he was unwilling to give the same dedication and understanding back. Malik also brought up that he was in a situation with a dom similar to Colin’s when he was still inexperienced and new to the kink world. He then talked about how for most gay men, there is a second coming of age as an adult, where we navigate life outside of heteronormative standards. We don’t have a roadmap or understanding of what healthy relationships look like growing up. Our self-esteem and identities are often not discovered or innately internalized, but based on the perceptions of the good and bad people we encounter. I can understand how this film can be an uncomfortable watch for those who have not experienced this kind of toxicity, but unlike the leather biker gear Colin and Ray are dressed in, relationships are never black and white, are they?
I also found the film’s depiction of the BDSM community to be quite faithful and accurate, from the fetish camping trip to Ray’s somber piano playing. (Why are so many kinksters also amazing musicians anyway?) According to Lighton, he reached out to the Gay Bikers’ Motorcycle Club in London for consultation and later hired its members as extras to make the film feel as authentic as possible. Despite Ray’s community not being verbally highlighted in the movie, it created a backbone for forming Colin’s autonomy and became a driving factor and motivation for Colin to advocate for himself through his interaction with Kevin (played by Jake Shears of Scissor Sisters). It’s refreshing and touching to see the BDSM community represented in an empowering and inclusive manner. In a film filled with hard cocks, hard emotions, and hard truths, these glimpses of communal bonding are full of tenderness and hope.
Any kind of relationship can be flawed and messy, and the film owes it to nobody to portray the ideals of what a healthy BDSM relationship should look like, even if it hints at it in the end. Because of its flawed nature, I believe this film has struck a huge chord with gay male audiences, especially those in the kink community, and will become an important mainstream film in the queer cinema canon. As I said goodbye to Malik in the parking garage, I knew he would be safe in the community he had found for himself until the next time we met.
The Queerest 