Young and inexperienced homosexual Colin (Harry Melling) is surprised to receive a Christmas card from the “impossibly handsome” Ray (Alexander Skarsgård), a motorcyclist with a large dog. Colin’s parents are pleased, especially his cancer-ridden mother, although the practically virginal lad is surprised that Ray takes him around a corner, demanding to be fellated. This skyrockets into a relationship based on physical, lustful sex, but Colin begins to grow cold feet, suggesting that the pair take “one day off a week” from BDSM and act like normal lovers.
Putting it crudely, this devilish sex comedy rocks. This is the love child of Fight Club (David Fincher, 1999) and Fifty Shades of Grey(Sam Taylor Johnson, 2015). It’s unapologetically sex positive, going to lengths to show the pleasures of gay coitus. Hanging out with the local bikers, Colin is given a penetrative jab as his “birthday” present. Contorting his face to express the amusement, anxiety and elation that leads to Colin’s first orgasm, Melling fully commits himself to the role of disciple and subordinate.
Ray is experienced, confident and lustful. “Get a butt-plug”, he cautions the young lover. Keen to prepare Colin in the anal art, he organises a wrestling challenge that climaxes, literally, with a bang. Clear to keep his distance, the older man demands that Colin do the grocery shopping and cooking, before tucking himself into a double bed all alone. The dog gets more affection from Ray; the two men never kiss.
Pressured by his mother for an introduction, Colin reluctantly arranges a dinner date that closes in a series of epitephs. Ray finds the woman ignorant, to which she uses an unprintable adjective to use on a man who refuses to engage in everyday conversation. What the parents don’t understand is that Ray refuses to accept a conventional relationship, and although he prevaricates, Colin too is turned on by the intrigue of animal activity. It’s done with gusto, as Pillion at heart is a sex comedy. Or maybe a dramedy.
The influence is apparent: Colin shaves his head in the style of a biker, showing his buttocks proudly amongst the English foliage. There is a recurring shot of the duo on a motorbike, their arms wrapped around each other. It’s a closeness Colin cares to explore further, much to Ray’s disinterest. “If you’re unhappy”, the older man says, pointing to the door, which leads the young lover to realise he is happy…ish.
There’s no denying that the sex scenes are excitedly filmed, a collage of penis, pierced gazes and pleasure. But unlike a lot of sex comedies, the gags between are indeed dirtylicious. “Did you kiss,” the mother inquires after the first date. The father, too, is unflappably English: “Make sure he wears a helmet”.
Melling is perfectly cast as the wide-eyed, curious lead, much as Skarsgård simply smoulders in every scene he’s in. Although Ray can’t verbalise it, he cares very deeply for Colin, welcoming the newcomer into his home and community. Cheerfully, the two engage in a sing-off, edging two ladies to decide who is the superior singer.
Giddily inventive, and fuelled by an editing style that smacks of sexual motion, Pillion is a tremendous leap forward for gay cinema. Behind everything stands the notion that nookie should be enjoyed. All it takes is 10 fingers and a tongue to have a good time, regardless of sexual orientation, experience or style. Mercifully, neither character is punished with HIV by the screenwriters, although the movie has sad scenes. Bring some hankies… for your eyes, of course!
Pillion premiered in the Un Certain Regard section of the 78th Festival de Cannes, where this piece was originally written. Also showing at REC Tarragona, and the BFI London Film Festival. In cinemas on Friday, November 28th. On various VoD platforms on Tuesday, January 13th.
