We have seen this kind of setup before: a shy, socially awkward protagonist encounters a mysterious stranger who at first seems utterly disinterested in them but then makes a move that, depending on the genre and the authors' intentions, has the potential to turn our hero’s life into heaven, hell, or quite possibly both.
And this is exactly how Pillion starts: with an opportunity for a life change, even if at first it comes off as a chance of a hookup at best.
Colin (Harry Melling) is a quiet, mild-mannered parking garage attendant who also performs in pubs as a part of a barbershop quartet as a side hustle. After one of such shows, and while on a blind date with a man he was set up with by his mother, Colin meets Ray (Alexander Skarsgård), a stoic, taciturn biker, whom people quite understandably keep referring to as “impossibly handsome”.
Ray slips Colin a note setting up a meet on Christmas day, which eventually will include oral sex and some boot licking in a back alley. Then, after months of no contact, Ray reappears once again, this time inviting Colin into his house and initiating a full-on dom/ sub dynamic between them.
Pillion, the feature debut of British director Harry Lighton, is destined to be compared to another A24 release exploring BDSM relationships, Halina Reijn’s Babygirl. Power-exchange dynamics aside, the correlation is actually rooted more in the fact that, much like the 2024 film, Lighton’s movie is also primarily a story about self-discovery and the ability to efficiently communicate your needs – both to others and yourself.
Of course, Colin’s journey to the destination he doesn’t know he wants or needs to get to when leather-clad Skarsgård floats into the frame next to him differs from the one in Reijn’s film. Harris Dickinson’s character in Babygirl was a master, no pun intended, of communication, imparting this knowledge to Nicole Kidman in a way that was much more crucial than all of his milk-related shenanigans. In Pillion, Ray is able to immediately and accurately see that Colin would relish this new kind of relationship, a freshly shaved head, assless chaps, and all, but is at a loss when it comes to articulating things.
Ray, the embodiment of emotional unavailability, remains an enigma for the audience, and not only because the film chooses to stick with Colin’s perspective, but because Ray insistently refuses to feel bad about anyone, including the viewers, feeling uncomfortable about his choices. Unlike what tends to be the case with these kinds of characters, who almost inevitably reach a breaking point and have a great moment of vulnerability, Ray stays true to his need for control till the end. And it is truly a great acting feat on Alexander Skarsgård’s part as he gets to do so much here without being demonstrative, while communicating primarily in a series of clipped commands.
The true emotional center of the film, though, is obviously Colin, as well as Harry Melling’s performance, both astoundingly raw and delicate, as someone who finally discovers joy and at some point learns not to feel guilty about it. Like Babygirl, Pillion also deals a lot with the awkwardness of it all: human interactions, sex, and love. Nick Morris’s cinematography tellingly fluctuates between beautiful, almost classically romantic images and uncompromisingly realistic ones, filled with sweat and closeups of pierced dicks, to emphasize that those are in no way mutually exclusive.
Serving both as a romance and a coming-of-age story of sorts, Pillion ends up being quite familiar and unique, all at the same time. After all, it’s not every day one gets to report that one of the most nuanced bits in the film, as well as its emotional climax, is a scene of group sex taking place at a picnic.
The film opens Friday, February 6, only in movie theaters, via A24 Films.