Queer Review

Reviews Films
3

Critic

4.6

Members

Sometimes films set out to be unpleasant and unsettling – putting their audiences in a state of discomfort ultimately drives them to a greater understanding of the overall subject matter, and for many art house films that works. However for Queer, an adaptation of the unfinished novella of the same name by the famed William Burroughs, the lack of follow through leaves the audience feeling well, just plain unpleasant.

Queer is the most recent work of italian director Luca Guadanino (previously known for Call Me by Your Name and Suspiria) and stars Daniel Craif as the washed up addict William Lee, who embarks on a quest to find a fabled hallucinogenic plant in the South American rainforest. Beginning the sweeping, reeking tale in Mexico City, Lee meets and becomes enthralled by a detached young Eugene (Drew Starkey), who he bribes and cajoles until he eventually enters into a business-like relationship. Eugene supports Lee through his voyage through the dark wilderness of both the South American jungle and his heroin addiction. The rest of the cast seems to be a wavering, gangly group of washed up Americans, both gay and straight, who have fled the good old US of A and are living their best seedy lives south of the border, out of Uncle Sam’s watchful eye. Notable among them is Joe (Jason Schwatzman) – a gay poet who seems to be constantly at the mercy of the hookups he brings home, who frequently liberate his belongings during their stay.

The beginning of the film is deliciously dark and needy – we’re taken along to explore the pulsating and gritty gay nightlife that was available in the 1950s. Everything is furtive glances and urgent drunken swings. Lee seems to spend his time oscillating between his tiny, sparsely furnished room (only the essentials – booze, books, typewriter and a pistol) and the local dive bars. There is a palpable need in Craig’s performance. A need for sex, booze, drugs, oblivion – Lee is always searching. For a time he seems to find what he is looking for in Eugene, who he does sleep with, but who ultimately isn’t ‘queer’ himself. When Eugene begins to pull away, Lee convinces him to come on a trip with him as, for all intents and purposes, his porter, and occasional sex partner (obviously).

It’s in the second half of the film that the story seems to lose itself. When the men depart for their South American travel it becomes clear that Lee will struggle to find his fix of heroin, and as he becomes more junk sick he clings tighter to Eugene – needing him to help him reach his ultimate goal: tracking down the yagé plant (known to us as ayahuasca). Here they must delve deep into the jungle to reach an experimental scientist Dr Cotter (Lesley Manville). While Lee might have been hoping for a mystical medicine man to lead him through his yagé taking experience, he’s left with the mad Dr Cotter. Grimey and toothless as she is, she leads him and Eugene through their first trip with the plant.Afterwards, rather than risk a second exposure, despite her urging, they return home. How? The film does not explain, flashing forward instead to Lee visiting Joe in Mexico City once again. These scenes are jumpy and erratic – spilling more into hallucination and pulling away from reality in a way that comes off as tacky and predictable, and not in a good way.

This film is a lot. Visually it is gorgeous – there is a beautiful juxtaposition of the raw South American landscapes with the grime and filth of city life. These also play with the visceral and borderline violent sex scenes that pepper the film, along with moments of Lee’s hallucinations. One is never quite sure what is real and what is imagined. There is also a fantastic element of falseness in the way that Guadagnino shot much of the city scenes in Rome’s Cinecittà studios. Constructing elaborate and reasonably realistic sets, which still have an air of sugary fakeness, which creates a delicious visual metaphor for the facades thrown up by the characters themselves. Guadagnino also creates the sense of ‘construct’ through the use of an anachronistic soundtrack – leaning into the ‘vibes’ rather than decade appropriate tunes. This might not work for some, but I found that songs like Come as You Are by Nirvana add to the overall conceit of the film.

Burrough’s original novel demonstrated a level of self hatred and pain – expressing a feeling of moral failing and a deep rotten core. While Queer retains elements of that, it doesn’t go far enough. It’s too self conscious to truly reflect the reckless abandon and urgent, crippling ugliness that underpins the novella. This is a shame, as it is perhaps Craig’s finest performance. From his vacant dope sick stares to his animalistic sexuality, he is gritty, grimey and grotesque – a cool martini in a cracked cup – perfectly William Lee. It is a shame that the self-consciousness of the rest of the film lets him down.

3/10

3

Critic