★★★★☆

Harry Lighton’s debut feature Pillion is a loose adaptation of Box Hill, a book by Adam Mars-Jones. The key aspect of this adaptation is that it strays from the source material quite a bit. Marketed as a dom-com, a wordplay on the well known genre of rom-com, the film chooses a different setting in time and personal circumstance for its protagonist. The changes allow the film to go into a lot more optimistic territory than the original and give it the ability to market itself as a romantic comedy. However, Pillion is far from a traditional romantic comedy as it takes its audiences on a journey of self-discovery alongside its likeable protagonist.  

Harry Melling stars as the sheepish Colin, a parking enforcement officer who lives at home with his doting parents. He sings in a barbershop quartet and goes on dates his terminally ill mother (Lesley Sharp) sets him up on. Most of these dates go nowhere, but when Colin catches the eye of a leather clad biker Ray (Alexander Skarsgård) during a Christmas performance, he finds himself following the mysterious man into a dark alley. It is not long before Colin is doing everything Ray asks him to do, from cooking and cleaning Ray’s minimalist apartment to cutting his hair and sleeping on the floor. 

Throughout, the film does make it clear that Colin is nothing but enthusiastic about their relationship, but it is also apparent that not all of his needs are being met and Ray’s flippant attitude makes the lack of proper communication between the two glaringly obvious. On one hand, it is clear that at least some part of negotiation about their dynamic happens off screen and, as it usually tends to be the norm when it comes to sex on screen, some things can be left implicit. On the other hand, consent in this specific dynamic is something that maybe shouldn’t have been left implicit. However, Lighton understands that the dynamic between his two main characters is not healthy or sustainable. There is no doubt that the lack of communication and established boundaries between Colin and Ray is what ultimately sets up the film’s ending and is crucial to the story and Colin’s personal development, but it is also what causes an uncomfortable lack of respect and trust that doesn’t always feel compelling narratively.  

What Pillion does right, though, is its refusal to scandalize the community it is depicting. It would have been very easy to leverage BDSM for shock value but Lighton keeps the story grounded in realism and approaches the community with respect. There is a versatility and fluidity in his depiction that shows kink as more than just one thing and captures how it shifts based on the couple or situation. It is precisely the honesty of the depiction that makes this film about a very niche sexual subculture engaging and appealing for much wider audiences. 

The authenticity of the story is further built through the great central performances from Melling and Skarsgård. Both excel in their roles, Melling being particularly strong when it comes to showing Colin’s bewilderment on his face and Skarsgård naturally falling into his role of the attractive, enigmatic biker. Cinematographer Nick Morris clearly understands how to capture both of their body languages to create tension and build onto the narrative through visual signals.     

While Lighton could have expanded on some aspects of the complexity and nuance in the central relationship, Pillion is otherwise a well crafted film, held up by two strong performances from the leads and refined cinematography. It’s a coming of age story more so than it is a love story and it brings a unique perspective into mainstream cinemas. If anything, Pillion does a fine job breaking the ground for the BDSM community on screen while managing to stay honest and real. That, in itself, makes Pillion a worthy watch.