
by Molly Page
Pillion is an unexpectedly heartwarming rom com for those with open minds. Both raunchy and hilarious, Harry Lighton’s feature film debut shows a lot of promise, with great performances from the two male leads. It is also technically a Christmas movie!
Harry Melling plays Colin, the timid protagonist, in a way that is easy to empathise with and root for. His role very easily could have been too boring, one note, or simply an audience stand in but the awkward comedy he brings to the role is captivating. Alexander Skarsgard’s performance is the clear stand out, he holds the emotional weight of the story together. He balances vulnerability and intensity in a way that leads you to not dislike his character outright.
Lighton immediately establishes the character dynamics through modes of transport and who is in the driver’s seat. Colin is introduced in the backseat of a car, a passive passenger in his own life. On the other hand, Jay is overtaking, in charge of his motorbike, propelling himself forward. Once they meet Colin becomes Jay’s passenger, at his disposal. When Colin challenges the relationship later in the film, he is the one driving Jay’s motorbike, finally taking control of the relationship to dictate his wants and desires. Furthermore, the roles are reversed at the end of the film, with Jay unable to move past his intimacy issues and Colin moving forward into a healthier relationship. These details are used to convey the themes of dominance, subordination, control, and boundaries.
Unlike similar films like Secretary, which uses stylisation and satire, Lighton focuses on the realism of the dominant and subordinate power dynamic. Pillion asks you to sit with the uncomfortableness of the relationship between Colin and Jay, the good and the bad. Colin yearns for control, something Jay provides him through a structured routine, the alarm early in the morning and the lists. His home life, especially with his mother’s illness informs this need for structure as opposed to the uncontrollable nature of death. He also finds community and affirmation among the other members of the biker gang, opening himself up from his timid introverted self.
Colin however is doting and overly eager to please that he willingly endures meanness from Jay, from making him sleep on the floor, cooking for him, literally licking his boot or watching him give attention to other men in the biker gang. When Colin’s mum questions the way Jay speaks to Colin, Jay claims that she is ignorant and she simply doesn’t understand because it makes her uncomfortable. However there is a point to what she is saying. After all, Colin himself begins to question whether there is a point to it all without love; “isn’t love the whole point?” Jay cannot bring himself to be fully intimate, he cannot kiss Colin, meet his family, or even share a bed.
When he does get close and he ultimately pulls away, it makes his meanness all the more apparent in contrast.
He doesn’t want to be alone but fears closeness and, in that way, Colin is more like a second pet dog to Jay. Lighton is able to present the relationship as messy but also allows the audience to understand each character’s choices in a way that feels nuanced and nonjudgmental. This makes the ending all the more bittersweet.
The film lightens the complexity of the relationship with its comedy, from the awkwardness of Colin’s inexperience to the uncomfortableness of their relationship contrasted to the normal relationship moments especially with Colin’s parents. Pillion succeeds both as a romantic film and a comedic one. The film is unabashedly queer and disinterested in the usual depictions of marginalisation and prejudice. It doesn’t seek to ease you into its world, to downplay itself but rather asks you to be open to it and all its intricacies.
Content warning: R18+
