Film and TV Editor John O’Connor reviews Luca Guadignino’s surreal exploration of Queerness and loneliness in his latest film Queer
Northern Italy, 1984, Germany, 1977, Ohio, 1988, and now Mexico circa 1950. It is becoming clear that Luca Guadagnino is becoming a master of place and time in his storytelling. If it wasn’t already clear, it becomes unmistakable in Guadagnino’s latest film, Queer—a cerebral and unflinching adaptation of William S. Burroughs’ novella.
The story follows Lee, played by Daniel Craig, an American expat living in 1950’s Mexico who leads a solitary life amidst a small American queer community. However, the arrival of Eugene, a former soldier, played by Drew Starkey, makes Lee believe it might be finally possible to establish a meaningful connection with another person beyond brief sexual encounters; a strikingly handsome solution has arrived, but in true Guadagnino fashion, it is too good to be true.
Lee is a man who doesn’t just stroll but struts through the streets of Mexico City, entering bars with the predatory heat of a cowboy, flirting with anyone within reach in a way that often borders on the uncomfortable. But it is a false swagger; underneath lies a crippling loneliness and misery. His situation reveals itself to be more bleak than it already appeared when Lee is shown to have a crippling dependency on drugs and alcohol. Daniel Craig’s portrayal of Lee is as heartbreaking as it is true. Craig has undeniably shed the skin of his socially accepted ‘masculinity’ and James Bond persona, to emerge as a dramatic actor to be reckoned with. In this film, he doesn’t care for his martinis shaken or stirred—he simply prefers them strong enough to carry him through the day and the dreaded long nights.
It would be incorrect to categorise this film as a love story, yet it is undeniably a tale of seeking connection in what appears to be a hopeless situation. The story itself is broken up into three chapters with the first two chapters acting as a counterfeit to the modern love story. The story is visually aided through the use of miniatures and sound stages to underscore Guadagnino’s play with realism.
The third and final chapter takes a somewhat psychedelic and surrealist turn. The chapter follows the adventure that takes Lee and Eugene from Mexico city further south — to Panama, Ecuador and locations left mysteriously unknown — ultimately bringing him back to where it all began, both in terms of place and his unshakable sense of loneliness. Lee brings his new solution, Eugene, to the jungles of South America to find Dr. Cotter (Lesley Manville), an expert in, what Lee calls, yagé, a mystery drug with the potential power to achieve telepathy. The ultimate way, or drug induced shortcut, to experience what Lee desires most; connection.
The cerebral series of events that follows blows the handles off the “doors of perception”. The jungle and eerie home of Dr. Cotter plays host to a montage of both character’s hearts leaving their bodies and landing next to each other on the floor and finally a naked Lee and Eugene fusing into one. At last; connection. However, the attempt is futile. Eugene does not feel the same way. It is kept intentionally unclear as to whether this unrequited love is due to Eugene’s shame or sexual orientation.
When Eugene refuses to continue this exploration of his sexuality and connection to Lee, Dr. Cotter reminds him that the “door’s already open, can't close it now. All you can do is look away, but why would you?” He and Lee make their way back to Mexico before Euegene disappears into the Jungle. Lee will never see him again and we are left wondering how Eugene will go forward with his newly open mind.
Queer is an exploration into how lonely it can feel to be Queer, to seek connection in an often lonely world and the trials we put ourselves through to love someone who, beyond reasons out of both individuals control, cannot be together. The ending of the film, however, ends on a potentially hopeful note with the screen becoming hazed with dancing streaks of light and colour, a spark of new love or a new beginning for future Queer generations to come.