Harry Lighton’s directorial debut feature, Pillion, reveals an incisive understanding of mood and tone, as it depicts the nuances and complexities of sexuality and relationships, in a humorous and sensitive coming-of-age narrative. Based on Adam Mars-Jones novel Box Hill (2020), the film follows Colin (Harry Melling) as he embarks on a sub/dom relationship with Ray (Alexander Skarsgård). The perspectives and characters of these two very different men are established in the alluring opening scene as Ray hurtles into the dark, tearing down the night road on his bike, while Colin is shown sitting in the back seat of a car. It’s clear that excitement lies along Ray’s way.
Colin is a fledgling who is not quite ready to leave the nest, living at home with his loving parents Peggy (Lesley Sharp) and Pete (Douglas Hodge). He works as a parking garage attendant, harassed by the car owners who aggressively argue the tickets he hands out. One might be inclined to disregard or underestimate Colin, but Lighton makes sure to show another aspect of the young man’s personality, as he dons a straw boater hat and spiffy striped suit and sings in a barbershop quartet, taking his solos with a lovely tenor and panache. Colin radiates insecurity and inexperience, but when he sings, he is radiant.
Offstage is another matter altogether. When he encounters Ray at the pub, he is instantly in thrall – at first figuratively, and then, quite soon, literally. Melling delivers a riveting performance as Colin, his gaze reflecting the awe and adoration he feels as he looks at the physically imposing Ray, who towers over him. It’s an overwhelming feeling reflected in his eyes, something far beyond mere attraction. It’s clear that Colin, whose mother sets up his blind dates, could never dream of any kind of relationship with someone like Ray. So, when Ray takes him down a dark alley and unzips his leather bodysuit, Colin is more than willing to do anything and say, “Thank you.”
Shy, awkward Colin appears to be just the kind of guy that Ray was looking for, someone with “an aptitude for devotion.” The two men begin a relationship defined by Ray’s terms in which Colin runs errands, cooks, sleeps on the floor at the foot of Ray’s bed, shaves off his curls, and wears a chain with a lock around his neck. And Colin is discovering that he likes it.
Colin’s parents are initially supportive of the relationship, probably the first their son has experienced. When Ray comes to call for Colin on his bike, Pete fondly reminisces about the bike of his distant youth, which he had to sell in order to buy a baby pram, but then amusingly stumbles as he tells them they won’t have to worry about the expenses of a baby, then realizes that statement indicates a bias and tries to backtrack. But as time goes by, it becomes apparent that they do not understand the sub/dom relationship, nor Colin’s enthusiasm for it.
Alexander Skarsgård’s sculptural muscles and imposing height contribute to establishing Ray’s dominant character, yet Skarsgård also imbues the often-laconic Ray with nuance and depth. As the relationship progresses one realizes that Ray, who is enigmatic throughout, has emotional issues that remain unexplored. A consensual BDSM relationship requires the kind of conversation and mutual consent that Colin and Ray have not had. Lacking in sexual or relationship experience, Colin desperately wants both, but initially, has no idea of his own preferences. He discovers a certain realm of possibility through Ray, yet as he grows through this relationship, he begins to understand what he wants and needs and has the courage to claim it.
Pillion
Director: Harry Lighton. Screenplay: Harry Lighton, Adam Mars-Jones. Camera: Nick Morris. Editor: Gareth C. Scales. Music: Oliver Coates; Cast: Harry Melling, Alexander Skarsgård, Douglas Hodge, Lesley Sharp, Jake Shears.
