Luca Guadagnino’s best films are about the addictive nature of love, whether in the spark of something new in I Am Love, the overwhelming, surprising nature of first love in Call Me by Your Name, or the unrelenting type of love that you can’t let go of in this year’s Challengers. It makes sense then that William S. Burroughs’ novel “Queer” left such an impression on a young Guadagnino years ago, about a character who becomes addicted to finding someone, struggling with his own addictions, and reckoning with the uncertainty and unpredictability of loving someone else. This adaptation of Burroughs’ novel feels like a perfect fit within Guadagnino’s work, as the director expands and evolves the original story, but also takes the opportunity to almost put Burroughs’ story into conversation with his own work.

What Is ‘Queer’ About?

Daniel Craig stars as William Lee, a queer American man living in 1950s Mexico City, who spends his days drinking around the city and having random sexual encounters with other men. It’s clear that this is Lee’s daily routine, sweating and drinking his way through the hours, longing for someone else. When Lee meets Eugene Allerton (Drew Starkey), he finds someone whom he connects with. We’ve seen him with other men who were nothing more than a quick fling, but with Eugene, William sees something else. The overly verbose Lee tells Eugene “I want to talk to you without speaking,” a sad confession from a man who is often trying too hard to be liked, yet desperately wants to be loved.

While Lee grows more attached to Allerton, it becomes quite clear that Lee’s affection isn’t returned in quite the same way. Sometimes, Allerton seems drawn to Lee, admiring his positive qualities. In others, Allerton treats Lee like a complete stranger, much to the latter’s dismay. Lee’s penchant for drinking the day away and his heroin addiction don’t help matters much either, turning him into an often sloppy mess who Allerton doesn’t want to associate with. Lee shares his desire with Allerton to find a drug known as “yage,” which he read about once and will allow the user telepathic gifts. At first, it seems like a passing curiosity Lee is taken with, but as we see this fractured relationship shift and alter throughout the film, we come to see that Lee is interested in yage because he believes it will allow him to read the thoughts of the man he’s falling in love with, an egg he can’t crack no matter how hard he tries.

Luca Guadagnino’s ‘Queer’ Is a Vibe That Fits Within the Director’s Work Perfectly
Image via Fremantle

Guadagnino’s approach to this novel is a lackadaisical one at times, spending plenty of scenes where Craig simply gets more fucked up, slow-motion stumbling his way through Mexico City where we can feel the heat bearing down on him. Queer also uses a mostly anachronistic soundtrack, and as we watch Lee meander through his life, it’s set to tunes by Nirvana and Prince, which perfectly encapsulate his feelings at the time, despite these songs not existing for several more decades. It’s especially effective in the opening credits, in which a quiet cover of Nirvana’s “All Apologies” finds just the right way to set up who this Lee character is before he even appears on screen. Guadagnino has once again teamed up with Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross for the music here, and like Challengers, this duo finds just the right tone and mood to fit Guadagnino’s story in every situation. For much of the first part of Queer, Guadagnino’s film is setting up its own vibe, and even though nothing much is happening, through Guadagnino’s handling of this tone, it’s fascinating to watch regardless.

Beyond the themes of addiction to love that are present in Guadagnino’s other work that makes Queer an ideal adaptation for the director, it’s also intriguing to watch this in regards to his other work. Guadagnino has talked about how a line from his 2015 film, A Bigger Splash, informed the themes of the film, and as the movie explores body horror and surrealism in a way that feels akin to the work of Luis Buñuel and David Lynch, it feels like the filmmaker continuing to utilize horror elements in a much more shocking and extreme way than he did in Bones and All or Suspiria.

But maybe the most intriguing comparison comes in Guadagnino’s work in Call Me by Your Name. Beyond that being Guadagnino’s most direct presentation of queer love, Queer also feels like a commentary on how he shot sex scenes in that film. For example, in Call Me by Your Name, there was plenty of discussion at that film’s release about how he decided not to show the sex scenes, instead, trailing off to film a nearby window in order to give them their privacy. Here, Guadagnino takes a similar approach to Lee’s sex scenes, but then returns to our characters in bed to find them engaging in acts that feel both honest and somewhat surprising, considering how he’s handled scenes like this prior.

Daniel Craig Continues to Pick Exciting and Bond Roles Outside of James Bond
Image via TIFF

Queer also comes together so beautifully because of these two leads at the center of this tale, and the excellent collection of supporting characters that flesh out Guadagnino’s world. Craig once again continues to make bold and exciting choices as an actor, and Lee might be his most unexpected yet. Craig plays Lee as an outgoing figure with a deep sadness within, seeking love, but also attempting to not show his agony. It’s a daring role that not only pushes Craig in ways we’ve never seen before, but also showcases his immense talents. While Leslie is outgoing, Starkey’s Eugene is a hard nut to crack, never quite revealing his feelings, which often makes Lee uncertain of what to do. Despite Eugene’s cold presentation, we also see the frustrations he feels, not just towards Lee, but in his own ability to reveal who he is to the larger public potentially. This dynamic fuels Queer at its best, and creates a fantastic love story that doesn’t go in unexpected directions.

Even though he only shows up in bits and pieces throughout the film, Jason Schwartzman is a delight whenever he makes an appearance as Lee’s even more outgoing friend Joe, who seems completely fueled by his libido. Lesley Manville also gives an unrecognizable performance as Dr. Cotter late in the film, and after usually playing prim, proper characters, it’s great to see her go as wild as she does here, and to have Guadagnino have a blast introducing such broad, strange characters into this story.

Queer’s script by Justin Kuritzkes, who also wrote Challengers, actually takes Burroughs’ story even further than the original book, delving into the hunt for the yage. It’s in this segment where Queer starts to go more avant-garde than the original book, with Guadagnino and Kuritzkes throwing us into a world of symbolic horror and strange deviations. Up until this point, Kuritzkes’ script has been all about capturing Lee’s mostly aimless path through life as a queer man, and in this last third, where Kuritzkes can make a new ending for this character, he truly takes the opportunity to go all-in with unsettling imagery and prioritizing odd symbolism. Especially this late in the film, it feels somewhat disconnected from the rest of the story, and drags the final third to this new conclusion. But again, if Guadagnino and Kuritzkes have trapped you into the slow, exploratory tone of the first two-thirds of the film, this final third will likely keep the audience entranced with its gripping ideas and images.

Queer is an audacious adaptation and yet another remarkable film in Guadagnino’s increasingly impressive filmography, as well as a showcase for a captivating performance by Craig. Queer might not be everyone’s vibe, especially when it gets wild in the final third, but there’s something in the way that Guadagnino brings all these elements together and crafts his own story out of Burroughs’ novel that continues his growth as an essential filmmaker of today.

Queer screened at the Toronto International Film Festival.