I saw Pillion a few weeks ago as part of Odeon’s Screen Unseen program, where they show upcoming films before their official release. Usually it’s a slightly more obscure film that they think deserves to be seen – for example, in the past I have watched Joy Ride, Scrapper, even bigger films like Anatomy of a Fall and American Fiction. Naturally, part of the contract of seeing a mystery film is that… well, it’s a mystery. And considering the 18 rating, you should be prepared for anything. That being said, this was a WILD choice for a Screen Unseen. Based on the clues I knew it would likely be Pillion, and walking into a room full of old straight couples, I thought I would be in for a treat… or some loud homophobia. The title card confirmed that Pillion would contain Strong Sex & Nudity. But for the moment, everyone stayed in their seats.
The film opens with a cheery scene of quaint Britishness: awkward young man Colin (Harry Melling) singing with a barbershop quartet in a village pub. Soon it transpires that he has arranged a very awkward, chemistry-free date with a local man, until he catches the eye of Ray (Alexander Skarsgård), an “impossibly handsome”, leather-clad biker with the saddest puppy dog eyes. Ray tests Colin by dropping his money on the counter, prompting him to pick it up, and when Colin obliges, Ray sees the first glimmer of Colin’s “propensity for devotion.” He leaves him his number, inviting him on a date the next day – Christmas day – and Colin, sick of failed matches and dead-end meet ups, and absolutely entranced by Alexander Skarsgård’s god-like hotness, agrees to go with him.
Up to this point, it’s all been rather wholesome: a song, a meet cute, Christmas with the family. And then suddenly, ten minutes into the film, you are watching Colin graphically give Ray a blowjob behind Bromley Primark. Cue the audience realisation that they are not getting a charming British romcom, and the first wave of walkouts. It is unclear exactly what was too much for these first leavers: seeing Ray’s penis, Colin licking his boot, or when he wiped cum from his lips and thanked Ray for the experience. But it was evident from this moment on that the film was not going to be catering to a wide audience, even if its facade was more Bridget Jones than backalley BJs.
Pillion is a film of two halves: the frank, explicit yet surprisingly not gratuitous sex scenes make up a large portion of the runtime, but the rest would best be described under the new genre “cringe erotica”, with scenes playing out as a British comedy laced with good-old second hand embarrassment. This exists both in Colin & Ray’s relationship – when Colin first goes to Ray’s house he discovers he is to cook, clean and sleep on Ray’s floor like a dog – to scenes with Colin’s nosy family: cancer-stricken mother Peggy (Lesley Sharp) and supportive but hapless father Pete (Douglas Hodge). Peggy wants to see her son happy before she dies, but finds it hard to understand his relationship with Ray, not least because Ray is a (very handsome) brick wall. The film offers no backstory, no explanation of his proclivities. Frankly, I appreciated this greatly: the lack of pathologising and just allowing Ray’s sexual desires to be what they are is refreshingly positive. Make no mistake: this film is absolutely pro-BDSM and fetish, celebrating the (real) queer bikers who appear in all their kinky glory. But it also tenderly acknowledges the more risky side of these relationships when one person isn’t getting what they need. As Colin serves Ray, his confidence and understanding of his own sexuality grows exponentially, but this creates problems as he sees that the lack of physical affection Ray desires is not right for him. There is no condemnation of BDSM relationships, but director Harry Lighton understands the importance of consent, communication and being on the same page. The result is touching and emotional, as the relationship has both light – seeing the couple finally do “normal people” things is very cathartic – and dark, as Ray’s treatment of Colin pushes him to the edge.
Pillion is not a queer film in the vein of the sappy, sexless Love, Simon, or even a more adult work like Call Me By Your Name. This is Level 10 Gay Cinema. Frankly, choosing to display it in the context of a mystery screening was a bold choice, solidified by the numerous walkouts over the film’s runtime (thankfully no-one in my cinema was outright homophobic, as I heard was the case at other venues). The sex is some of the most extreme and real I have ever seen in a mainstream film, and its unapologetic portrayal of alternative queer identities and taboo subjects like kink will certainly turn a lot of viewers off. But for those of us who enjoy and appreciate seeing this kind of representation on screen, the film offers this in spades, but also so much more: a genuinely compelling, believable love story, awkward comedy and lots of naked Alexander Skarsgård. We need a more diverse range of queer storytelling, and in a time when it feels like lots of representation is being brushed under the carpet in an attempt to appease the fascists, the fact that a film like this can have a major release is a step in the right direction. And who knows: maybe this will be a future Christmas classic. Try putting it on for your grandma this year and see what happens.
Director: Harry Lighton
Cast: Harry Melling, Alexander Skarsgård, Lesley Sharp
Country: United Kingdom
Runtime: 107m
Certificate: 18
Image: Element Pictures, BBC Film, BFI