I’ve had so many feelings about Pillion, but only a few have settled into rendered thoughts. A lot of my reaction was tied to my own history with the subject matter—anger, confusion, a sense of exclusion—rather than a critique of the film itself.
It’s a fascinating film with impeccable and brave performances from all the actors. However, I’ve never fully understood sub/dom culture. I’ve always felt on the edge of it: close enough to see its appeal, but never wanting to be in the gang, and not sure I was ever invited anyway. My own experiences (including one recent one that ended badly) often feel like things better discussed in therapy. I love fetish, and I have my kinks, but the dynamic between the submissive (Harry Melling) and the dominant (Alexander Skarsgård) still felt alien to me.
I kept waiting to understand what these characters got out of their dynamic, but instead, they seemed like two unhappy people searching for something that couldn’t satisfy them. The character I connected with most was the young lad’s mum, played so exquisitely by Lesley Sharp—protective, baffled, and very much like my own.
I wanted to find the film sexy; I didn’t. Both men felt emotionally distant—one longing for warmth, the other unable to let it in. It made me wonder what sub/dom really is: a solution, a symptom, a coping mechanism? We did see a contrasting characterisation in the more endearing character played by Jake Shears, but it wasn’t enough for me.
I know there are as many ways to experience kink as there are colours in the rainbow. But the versions I keep encountering—on screen and off—don’t resemble the ones that resonate with me. I enjoy sensation, not cruelty; the aesthetic, not the nihilism; aspects of guidance, not erasure. For me, kink is about pleasure, playfulness, intimacy and care. What I saw here felt cold and disconnected. I genuinely couldn’t see what either character gained. Not on the surface, anyway.
I’m still processing. Pillion is worth seeing for Sharp, Douglas Hodge (both for me playing the more interesting secondary characters, who bring nuance), and for giving visibility to a rarely shown community. But while others found it erotic, tender, or ‘the horniest film of the year’, that wasn’t my experience. For me, it was something far more complex—and far more unsettling.
| Guest Reviewer Justin David is the Brit author of Tales of the Suburbs, Kissing the Lizard, The Pharmacist, and is the photographer for Threads—a collaboration with poet Nathan Evans which was longlisted for the Polari First Book Prize. He is the publisher at Inkandescent, focused on underrepresented authors. In 2022, Inkandescent was a finalist in the Small Press of the Year category in the British Book Awards |
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