Written by Kenza Bouhnass-Parra
"You’re not queer? Aren’t you?" is how Luca Guadagnino’s newest opens, a film about a quest for identity and connection in a world of constant questioning. Queer, which premiered at the Venice Film Festival last September, is the second release of the year for the Luca Guadagnino and Justin Kuritzkes pair, after Challengers released in April to great reviews and a good theatre turnout.
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Queer could not be more different from its predecessor, taking place in 1950s Mexico, portraying a middle-aged man forced to hide his sexuality on a background of a neutral colour palette and a breathier pace. The film, adapted from William S. Borough’s novel, is divided into three chapters, each taking part in different places. While the premise of a solitary William Lee (Daniel Craig) becoming intrigued with newcomer Eugene Allerton (Drew Starkey) promises an alluring and enthralling 137min runtime, the film ends up being a disappointment where one cannot help but feel deflated at the unexploited potential.
Queer voluntarily holds a slow placing, where the characters gauge one another and get the time to find each other. It is a captivating dynamic that the public witnesses building through soundtrack choices, costumes, and score. However, with the second chapter and the change of setting, that dynamic is thrown out the window, and the tension inhabiting the screen is as well. That change might come at a too early time, where Lee is still stumbling his way to Eugene, and he seems asnot more than a shadow of a character. Indeed, the big arresting point in Queer is Eugene and his lack of substance. Seen at first as a object of desire through Lee’s gaze, the veil of his persona is never lifted, becoming a symbol of desire, too intrinsically unattainable to develop any sort of care for him. When the third chapter comes around the corner and takes the narrative to an even further place from the first intrigue with complete disparity in aesthetic, the public has nothing to hold onto and make sense of what is happening on screen. Coupled with a main character emotionally out of a reach and his screen partner evading any sense of essence, we cannot help but drift away.
Despite a weakness in the screenplay, Queer remains immaculately crafted, with a meticulous visual identity, as Guadagnino’s films always are, and some stunning needle drops, creating an entry way in the first chapter of this world. But it is the costumes, designed by Jonathan Anderson, that hold the attention the most and end up becoming a character by themselves, from Lee’s hat and enveloping suits to Eugene’s glasses and immaculately tailored shirts. In the end, Queer appears as a too big of a challenge where the scenario loses itself in its intricacies without never really revealing anything about its characters. Despite nearing almost a two hours and thirty minutes runtime, it seems like we are never even given the opportunity to get close to the core of the story, lost in the beauty but vapidness of aesthetics.
Photo credits : Mubi, A24