Pillion Review

Love, Leather, and Liberation in Harry Lighton's Pillion

By: Marc Kozak

Pillion

Love, Leather, and Liberation in Harry Lighton's Pillion

By: Marc Kozak

Who would have guessed that one of the sweetest moments of intimacy in any romance movie in recent memory would take place during a scene in which four men in assless chaps are lined up side-by-side on a picnic table in order to give oral sex to a group of dom bikers? Such is Harry Lighton’s directorial debut, Pillion, a deeply touching and unabashedly graphic movie about a young gay man exploring the nature of a dominant-submissive arrangement for the first time.

Adapted with a considerably lighter tone from the 2020 novel Box Hill by Adam Mars-Jones, Lighton’s story is told with considerable affection and care for the subcultures it depicts, making it feel remarkably authentic and modern. It’s also refreshing that there are no moments of tragedy or abuse lurking around the corner. It’s an honest-to-gosh romantic comedy with a light touch, more interested in the central character exploring his emotional and physical desires – not getting punished for having them. This simple fact alone makes Pillion feel like a revelation, letting all the dramatic power come from the ups and downs of self-discovery instead of malicious external forces.

Colin (Harry Melling) is a quiet, introverted young man who lives at home with his wholesome and supportive parents, works in parking enforcement, and sings in a barbershop quartet in his spare time. He is diminutive in body and voice, a bit naïve and sheltered in his little corner of life in Bromley, London. After a performance at a small, local pub, time seems to stop when the hulking and spectacularly good-looking Ray (Alexander Skarsgård) enters, striding through the room in white biker leathers with the godlike confidence of someone who…well…someone who looks like Alexander Skarsgård. Colin can’t actually believe it when Ray slips him his number, and the two arrange to meet on Christmas Day.

" It’s an honest-to-gosh romantic comedy with a light touch, more interested in the central character exploring his emotional and physical desires – not getting punished for having them.  "

Their initial “date” starts in an empty town square and almost immediately moves into an alleyway, where Ray’s pants go down and the commands start coming. It’s over in moments, nothing more than a test to see if Colin will do what he’s told. Their next meeting takes place at Ray’s barely furnished home, where Ray emotionlessly and almost wordlessly continues to test Colin’s commitment. Colin is expected to go food shopping and make dinner, to stand silently behind Ray as he watches television next to his dog on the couch, to sleep on the floor at the foot of Ray’s bed. Colin is initially a bit flustered but keeps going along with it, only to get his physical reward the next day. Melling’s performance is a perfect mix of confused and excited, as he stammers awkwardly to himself until finally realizing that he isn’t going to get any conversation out of Ray.

As Colin and Ray continue to spend more time in this way, I found myself recoiling a bit, thinking that Colin was being abused and that the story was headed for a dark place I didn’t want it to go. But it’s crucial to note that nothing is forced on Colin – Ray never forces him to do anything he doesn’t want to do. As if anticipating this feeling from viewers who aren’t familiar with this world, Lighton keeps the mood light, playing many of these moments for laughs. And then he addresses it directly in a scene in which Ray and Colin have dinner with Colin’s parents, who support Colin and want him to find a wonderful man but feel uncomfortable with what they see as an overly controlling relationship. Ray cooly dismisses these concerns, saying that whether or not they are “comfortable” makes no difference to them. Do they want Colin to be happy, or to be whatever their idea of happiness is? I felt as properly (and rightly) chastised as Colin’s mother – these are consenting adults; what I want out of a relationship has absolutely no bearing on anyone else’s relationship.

Colin clearly sees Ray as a king, someone he will willingly devote himself to, telling him that “next to you, I’m nothing. When I’m yours, I’m the same.” He wears a locked chain around his neck while Ray wears the key around his; he shaves his head and dresses in his other leathers, happily gripping on to Ray while the two ride around on a motorcycle. They hang out with other dom/sub biker couples, often going on camping trips. It’s during one of these trips that Ray starts getting oral sex from another man on a picnic table (referenced above) while Colin looks on jealously. But from the noises and facial expressions he gives, it’s clear that Ray prefers being with Colin; Colin delights in being the one that Ray wants, cherishing the intimacy that the two share as they have sex in missionary for the first time. It’s a graphic but tender scene, showing that even though Ray doesn’t give much in the way of emotional reciprocation, it means the world to Colin when he does.

Eventually we learn that the dynamic between Colin and Ray isn’t sustainable. Colin starts to learn more about the expectations of these kinds of relationships from other people in the group – another sub tells him he would go crazy if his partner never kissed him, and you can tell that Colin agrees. He starts to realize that Ray isn’t cruel or uncaring – he just might not be the right fit for what Colin wants. Colin starts to test the boundaries of their relationship, asking to sleep in Ray’s bed or requesting one day off a week to just be equals. Ray reluctantly gives these things a shot, but it’s clear that the dynamic has started to shift in a way that doesn’t work for him. It’s fascinating to see two men at different stages of their lives – Ray knows what he wants and is completely comfortable with it, whereas Colin is just starting to realize what he wants and needs physically and emotionally. He started off just being okay with going along with anything (how many of us have been there in our younger days?) but now he’s becoming more aware of his own desires and limits.

Colin’s personal growth is a joy to witness – he starts the movie alone and uncertain of what might make him happy and ends with a much clearer idea of what he’s into, how to get it, and how to communicate those desires to someone else. It’s a truly hopeful ending, one that celebrates how wonderful it can be to fall in love, get hurt, grow from the experience, and come out of the other side with a better idea of who you are.

Skarsgård gives a wonderfully nuanced performance, as his seemingly impenetrable exterior is slowly chiseled away, finally revealing unexpected insecurity and vulnerability under his impossibly good looks. His small gestures and facial expressions start to give away moments of confusion and uncertainty as he struggles with the fact that he might care for Colin in ways that he might not want to admit to himself. It would have been easy for Skarsgård to coast by on his physicality (which is admittedly impressive), but he really elevates the entire movie by giving his character emotional depth. Melling, most known for his role as Dudley Dursley in the Harry Potter films, is just as impressive, becoming less mousy and more confident and controlled as the movie goes on.

Pillion is structurally similar to the standard rom-com formula but largely transcends it thanks to Lighton’s commitment to his vision and the humanity with which he treats his characters. It’s sexually graphic, sure, but it never feels explicit or done just for the sake of it. If anything, it feels infinitely more sexy and real than some other movies that it’s sharing screens with in cinemas this weekend (looking at you, Wuthering Heights). What a wonderful debut from Lighton, and kudos to the cast and crew for willing to commit to Lighton’s vision, which feels incredibly brave even though it shouldn’t at this point in history.