Jay Rohr
Queer is a curious film. Its strengths are frequently some of its weaknesses. Cinematically it’s very well constructed, and Daniel Craig (Glass Onion) has a jagged vulnerable brilliance. Yet, the ethereal elements of Queer sometimes seem like two movies jockeying for attention. It wants to be weird in thought-provoking ways but can’t stop being grounded.
The film follows William Lee, played by Daniel Craig, an expatriate drifting about Mexico City in the 1950s. There he encounters colorful characters such as Jason Schwartzman (Megalopolis) as promiscuous Joe Guidry. When enigmatic Eugene Allerton (Drew Starkey) catches Lee’s attention, coy endeavors to test for signs of similar sexual appetites soon leads to a bad romance between the two men.
The movie is an adaptation of the novel Queer by infamous author William S. Burroughs. His unfinished book laid the groundwork for a script by Justin Kuritzkes. What’s interesting is that the film so closely captures the work by Burroughs that it essentially reproduces the highs and lows of the novel. It meanders in the same ways which makes the movie start to feel aimless then long. Yet, it also excludes a great deal of details.
The book is a sequel to the 1953 novel Junkie. The movie basically jumps into part two of an ongoing narrative. The result is the film Queer beginning in media res. That can make the main character harder to decipher, although that same mystery is similarly experienced by the movie’s other lead Eugene Allerton. The point being that readers of the book will be a little less lost, while unfamiliar audiences might need to pay closer attention to garner some sense of who William Lee is.
Furthermore, there isn’t always an explanation for events. Pardon the spoiler, but at one point, Lee briefly falls into heroin abuse. Without the context of his addiction from the previous novel it feels like a melodramatic leap regardless of his heart stung motivation. And glimpses of burnt crooked spoons feel like teases for Sherlockian observers rather than cinematically laying out breadcrumbs. Basically, Queer isn’t always clear as to why certain events are unfolding, particularly within the cultural context of the era, yet that leaves room for a sense of why this doomed romance occurred. For instance, the lack of omniscience in a novel means the secrets these two keep from one another remain securely locked away.
Daniel Craig makes a smart choice in his portrayal of William Lee. Regardless of whatever biographical aspects Burroughs may have injected into the character, there’s no effort to play the writer. Instead of an impression of the author, Craig presents Lee as the fictional character he’s meant to be. That frees the performer to display a vulnerable person composed of sharp edges desperate for someone to hold him close. He’s a brittle individual prone to flying apart in shrapnel filled outbursts, yet charming enough to quickly calm the boat he’s rocking wildly. And Craig conveys all this with captivating grace.
Drew Starkey (Outer Banks) provides some wonderfully subtle moments as the indecipherable Eugene Allerton. His inscrutability mingles with an alluring quiet confidence. He easily conveys that dreamy crush so many have longed to be with, and when Lee finally embraces his desire, Craig’s interactions with Starkey have the relatable fear of losing such a person just by looking at them.
The film features several graphic same-sex encounters. And I’m sure the filmmakers will pat themselves on the back, finding it all very revolutionary, perhaps even daring. After all, director Luca Guadagnino shied away from showing any such intimacy in Call Me by Your Name (2017). Rather than continue that negation of gay sex, Queer simply displays what’s in the book. As such, it certainly fits with much of Burroughs own writing, particularly The Wild Boys, yet what makes these scenes daring isn’t so much their graphicness as their tenderness.
Although featuring a marginalized group, Queer isn’t exactly an empowering story. However, it’s a very humanizing one. That’s because the events center around a bad romance anyone can relate to. Loneliness transmutes lust into a love affair and two people never meant to last entangle for a bittersweet period. The film documents their ups and downs as well as the ways imperfect people can get caught in each other’s orbit. Mostly this is accomplished without melodrama as both lead characters keep attempting to steer away from the jagged edges which could pop this delusion. Then, alongside its glimpses of addiction, Queer is a tale of the irresistible.
Musically, the movie stumbles more often than moves smoothly. Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross seem to have had their own idea what the film is supposed to be. They often use anachronistic needle drops at the start, perhaps to emphasize the timeless quality of the narrative. Yet, Nirvana’s “Come as You Are” feels like a lazy reading of the lyrical content, not to mention a dumb easter egg given Kurt Cobain’s relationship with William S. Burroughs. The song “Te Maldigo” is beautiful, but also reeks of Oscar bait. The Reznor/Ross musical contributions just never jive with the film’s 1950s surreal atmosphere.
Queer is engaging but not captivating. It offers themes of the irresistible and a sense of disembodiment relieved by human connection. Much of this comes from a dreamlike presentation that echoes the artifice of old Hollywood and Lynchian realms. However, Queer rarely rises above the level of hearing a sad drunk recount a lost love.
This tale of doomed romance wants to be a surreal metaphysical exploration of the human condition but can only be one story at a time. Consequently, surrealism makes reality duller to observe. What’s worse, though, is that the hallucinatory elements are painfully obvious in their metaphorical implications. During such moments, director Luca Guadagnino does his best to seem cinematically clever. However, he mostly only captures mediocre symbolism. Meanwhile, Daniel Craig provides a passionate, multi-faceted performance. But it’s all in service of a movie that, at best, will lead audiences to the book.
