Queer | London Film Festival Review

Let’s be honest, there are few sexier filmmakers out there in cinema today than Luca Guadagnino. Or should that be sexual filmmakers? Either way, from coming-of-age tales to horror to the humble sports movie, exploring sex and sexuality has been the very foundation upon which the director has built his entire career on.

In an era when so many studios and filmmakers are going out of their way to de-sex their films, Guadagnino is a beacon of light in an increasingly sexless world, as he continues to scrutinise sex, sexuality, and desire in all its forms.

And with a title like Queer, it’ll come as no surprise that this may well be his most forthright exploration of sexuality to date.

Spending his days in 1940s Mexico City lost, confused, and alone, the life of outcast American expat William Lee (Daniel Craig) takes a turn when former US soldier Eugene Allerton (Drew Starkey) appears in his life. Swiftly growing infatuated with the younger man, Lee has convinced himself that it may actually, finally, be possible to establish an intimate connection with someone.

Luca Guadagnino is not a safe filmmaker by any means. Far from it. What he is, however, is an extremely classic one.

While each of his films has often revelled in the prospect of digging deep into the sexuality, sensualities, and latent desires of its characters, the true beauty in Guadagnino’s films is the classic aura that envelops these themes. Whether it’s the sun-soaked Italian countryside of Call Me By Your Name or the glitzy tennis tournaments of Challengers, Guadagnino’s films frequently draw you in with their warm nostalgic glow before layering the sex on thick.

To this end, Queer is up there with both the most classic and most sexual of Guadagnino’s films to date. Or, that is, until it kind of isn’t.

For two acts, Queer is on course to be a Luca Guadagnino all-timer and the perfect 2024 one-two punch with Challengers that’s set to prove that he is without a doubt one of the most exciting filmmakers around. And then the third act arrives and it’s an entirely different conversation we’re having. Not a bad conversation, just a different one.

As we enter the film’s final chapter, things take such an odd turn that it’s difficult to know what to do with it. As Guadagnino takes wild swing after wild swing, this final wtf act certainly isn’t the deal breaker it could’ve been, yet it spins everything on its head, sends us in a completely different direction, and will almost certainly split opinion.

Breaking things down into three distinct chapters, Queer hits the ground running with a blistering dive into a sun-drenched cocktail of obsession and repressed desire. With the camera glued to Daniel Craig’s Lee – cream linen suit, tequila shots, holstered gun and all – the film sinks down deep into his desperate life and the result is equal parts pitying and intriguing.

Despite the deep, dark sense of desire and desperation seeping from the film’s pores, what makes Queer so utterly compelling in these opening moments is just how light and gorgeous it is to look at. Full of washed-out pastel shades and just a hint of whimsey, in another universe, this could very well be Wes Anderson’s vision of 40s Mexico City, and the resultant mix of light aesthetics and dark themes is positively intoxicating.

Complete with outrageous, out of nowhere and out of time needle drops (you’re unlikely to hear a wilder, more unexpected use of Nirvana anywhere out there) and an alluring hedonistic energy, Queer’s opening act is an absolute doozy that lures you into Lee’s desperate existence and keeps you locked in there.

As we move into Queer’s second chapter, its themes of addiction and desire really begin to dig in, with the film finding its rhythm as Lee heads out on the road with Eugene in tow. Switching things to a road trip narrative of sorts, Guadagnino is really able to build on what was established with Lee in the first act, further delving into the character’s deep sense of longing, helped along by a sterling, career-high performance from Daniel Craig.

Physical and full-blooded but achingly fragile and painfully vulnerable, Craig has never been better as he utterly devours the role. His post-Bond career has been marked by fringe, oddball characters such as Lee but rarely has he thrown himself so deeply and so wholeheartedly into one as he has done here; and it’s within this middle chapter that Craig really gets to go for it.

Supported by a fantastic breakout performance from Drew Starkey, Craig has a startling grip on the screen as Lee sinks deeper and deeper into his addictions, denials, longings, and the desperate need for queer transgression. Lee’s delicate relationship with Eugene feels nebulous and like it could fall apart at any minute throughout this second chapter, and a huge amount of credit must go to Craig and Starkey for carrying us, the film, and its themes through to what comes next.

As the backdrop to this road trip segment, Guadagnino continues to make his film both look and feel delightful. The sun-baked pastel colour palette and immaculately constructed scenes are very much in line with the opening act, but as we venture out further into a South America full of beautifully drawn mountains, villages, and coastlines, Queer’s broadening landscape allows Guadagnino to further flex his muscles as a visual filmmaker.

And then we get to chapter three which is, to put it politely, a genuinely baffling half an hour of cinema. Not necessarily in a bad way. Just baffling.

Taking a trippy, hallucinogenic left turn into the South American jungle, Queer also makes the kind of tonal U-turn that will give you whiplash. While the themes from the first two acts remain, the feel of the film is very different as trippiness is accompanied by an increase in comedy that doesn’t quite work.

As we hit our third and final chapter, and as the humour begins to tip over into slapstick, it starts to feel like Luca Guadagnino doesn’t quite know how to see his film out. And as the physical comedy eventually gives way to a truly batshit finale, it’s hard to know quite what Queer is going for here.

For better or worse, Guadagnino truly is on form here as he willingly dives head-first down the rabbit hole, dragging Daniel Craig’s Lee with him. It’s a weird and wild way to brazenly hammer home the themes you’ve spent the first two acts meticulously crafting, and while some will love what he does here, just as many will undoubtedly despise it. Either way, the sheer balls-to-the-wall insanity of it all is certainly admirable, if not entirely cohesive.

None of this is enough to derail Queer entirely, however, it certainly causes a wobble. And after the startling success of its initial chapters, it’s hard not to be disappointed that the film isn’t quite the outrageous success its first two thirds promise.

While that third act pivot is a wild one and will undoubtedly divide opinion, Queer is nonetheless a magnificent, thematically rich achievement from Luca Guadagnino. Beautiful to look at and elevated by a career best performance from Daniel Craig, the film dives deep into its themes of queer connection, desire, addiction, and obsession that may get a little strung out by the end but certainly delivers where it matters.

Score: ★ ★ ★ ★