Daniel Craig Breathes Life in Ambiguous ‘Queer’

There is a thought that permeates throughout Queer: “I’m not queer; I’m disembodied.” Though uttered only a few times, it becomes a splinter in the mind of William Lee (Daniel Craig; Knives Out), small and subtle but felt nonetheless. Like the film, the quote is ambiguously profound for our protagonist, purposefully meant to keep you wondering about its intentionality while the truth is in plain sight. What is queerness? Is it when the biggest grunge rocker performs on stage in floral dresses? Is it when an even more prolific male entertainer bares his ass on stage at the MTV Awards? Or is it when a man desires sex with another man while vehemently rejecting his intimacy?

Based on the 1985 novel of the same name, Queer begins conversing with Lee, in his mind, a potential male suitor. That fails. Then, there’s another failed attempt with another man that was clearly uninterested. Half lonely, half drunk, Lee is in search of. Is it love or just a loving touch? As he roams scarcely lit 1950s Mexican streets, guitar strings start to play, and the rugged voice of Kurt Cobain muscles out. He stumbles across a cock fight, and just as “Come As You Are” reaches its crescendo, Lee is thunderstruck by the most beautiful man he has ever seen in his life, Eugene Allerton (Drew Starkey; Hellraiser). If this were Looney Tunes, heart eyes would have come bulging out of Lee’s head.

Lee wants to play it cool while navigating this new state of infatuation. He trails Allerton as he walks to a local watering hole and takes a seat in the corner to wait for a friend. Instead of approaching Allerton and properly introducing himself, Lee embarrassingly pirouettes and bows like a drunken ballerina. While funny to patrons in the bar, Allerton turns his head to look away. Lee is defeated. This is what his life has become.

In self-doubt and loneliness, Lee uses alcohol and heroin to mask his pain. Through his addiction, he is deeply insecure and unable to find comfort in his own skin nor a true respite in the men he beds or the small queer community in his town. In a role that rightly earned him a Golden Globe nomination (and maybe even a future Oscars nom), Craig meticulously channels the feeling of yearning while being unable to seek what is yearned confidently. To want love is human; to fail at receiving it is the most human we can be. In his wiriness, bumbling, and desperation, Craig gives humanity to the discarded. In a key scene where Lee is shown shooting heroin, we see the smallest of reprieves in him being high, but it is brought crashing down by seeing him alone in his dingy apartment, haunted by the empty void of his unfulfilled infatuation. Craig only sits and emotes, but it is enough to break one’s heart.

Throughout Queer, Lee wrestles with the unclear nature of Allerton’s true feelings. The film does not create the mutual energy of “will they, won’t they?” but it is more (but not fully) unrequited than that. Queer vacillates between cold and loving in a tangible way that uncertain love does. Feelings are felt but not spoken. Because Lee is so unsure of how Allerton feels, it sets him on a journey through South America to find a mystical plant (yagé, a.k.a. ayahuasca) that will give him the power of telepathy. For Lee, it is much easier to read someone’s mind than to ask them, “Do you like me?” During this journey, Lee sees, but not what he was expecting. In the film’s final act and epilogue, the audience is taken on a surreal, dream-like ride through Lee’s psyche, and we are left to sort out the meaning of it all.

Even at his most direct, director Luca Guadagnino (Bones and All; Challengers) keeps viewers guessing right up to Queer’s final frame. The film can be uncomfortable as flesh pierces flesh with actions so awkward it may cause viewers to involuntarily cover their faces due to secondhand embarrassment. But it is a good thing when a film tries to elicit deciphering thoughts and genuine emotion. The challenge for Guadagnino is that one man’s wonder is another’s confusion. Queer has been described as “superficial” and “difficult to watch,” but surrealism in filmmaking should not be so easily dismissed. If you want a straightforward, fun, crowd-pleaser, Challengers is right there. However, Queer gives you the sexiness that its predecessor was selling but with a little bit more heart (and funny performance from Jason Schwartzman (Between the Temples) to top [pun intended]). It is good to have fun at the movies, but it is good to feel something, too.

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars