Where do kinks come from? Are we each born to seek out certain thrills, or are such illicit appetites unlocked through experience? Sigmund Freud had a few theories on the subject, and so does Harry Lighton’s “Pillion,” a steamy art-house psychodrama that’s fairly light on analysis but not at all shy about showing the germ of one man’s titillating new turn-on. Named for the person who sits on the back of a motorcycle, arms wrapped around the driver’s waist, “Pillion” focuses on a nascent submissive discovering what his butch new biker boyfriend describes as “an aptitude for devotion.”
A mild-mannered traffic warden who still lives at home, Colin (Harry Melling) is on a blind date arranged by none other than his mum when he spots what could be the man of his dreams. Dressed in a full leather riding suit, Ray (Alexander Skarsgård) is everything that pale, a cappella-singing Colin is not: a tall, swaggering Nordic god, seemingly at ease in his own skin.
When Ray slips him a time and place to meet up the next day, Colin can hardly believe his luck, sharing the good news with his unexpectedly supportive parents — a nice touch that makes them cheerleaders to a rather dark transformation. Colin’s folks even encourage him to wear Dad’s vintage leather jacket on his first “date.”
That initial meet-up turns out to be something far more degrading than Colin could have anticipated — in what he considers to be a good way. Although “Pillion” provides no insights into Colin’s proclivities before Ray enters his life, it’s safe to say that hooking up in a dark alley, licking a pair of rubber boots and otherwise being bossed around is wilder than any fantasy his limited imagination was capable of. And they’re just getting started.
Laced with a wry sense of humor, “Pillion” manages to be both understated and explicit in the way Lighton presents practically everything that happens in Colin and Ray’s unconventional relationship. There in that alley, few words are exchanged, but audiences get a tantalizing hint of skin as Ray unzips his uniform, and may laugh at the sound of Colin choking on his prize. Ray’s clearly too much for his new plaything to handle, and later, we’ll see why — Prince Albert and all. (It’s not the first time the “Infinity Pool” star has flashed the goods, which distracts somewhat from an otherwise subtle performance.)
While the casting of Skarsgård feels like a case of co-writer-director Lighton landing his ideal candidate, Melling emerges as the more interesting choice. The former child actor began his career playing the insufferable Dudley Dursley in the “Harry Potter” franchise, but comes across as spindly and endearingly insecure here — the sort of fellow who doesn’t recognize what a catch he might be.
His mother, Peggy (Lesley Sharp), knows it, and she doesn’t hesitate to stick her nose into Colin’s new relationship, especially after her only son shaves his curly hair (which she’d always considered his best feature) and starts wearing a padlocked steel chain around his neck. Colin rightly senses that his friends and family wouldn’t comprehend the sadomasochistic — and paradoxically fragile — connection he’s slipped into with Ray.
Confined to stark, virtually colorless spaces, it’s an arrangement without tenderness or substantive conversation, where Colin is treated like a possession or a pet, ranked somewhere below Ray’s dog in the hierarchy of things — and far below Ray’s beloved bike. At each step, Ray sets the rules, effectively putting Colin in his place, as in the way Ray orders him to cook dinner and then stand silently behind him while he eats, with the dog sitting beside him on the couch where Colin would like to be.
Most folks wouldn’t put up with such mind games, but in Colin’s case, they’re the cost of dating someone far out of his league. He likes showing off his new boyfriend’s picture at work, but never mentions the way Ray makes him sleep on the floor. Hanging out with Ray’s biker gang, Colin feels included in this fetish community and can talk to other submissives like himself, including those who’ve known Ray longer and recognize how inflexible he is.
“Pillion” eroticizes far less of its sexy-sounding premise than you might expect, even as it leaves interpretation up to us. A lot of what passes behind Melling’s eyes is pure guesswork on our part, as his expressions range from eager to pathetic — until he finally speaks up, daring to request a bit more intimacy.
The way their dynamic is structured, Colin fears that one wrong move could bring things to an end, which merely reinforces Ray’s power over him. “You couldn’t upset me if you tried,” claims Ray, sounding as unflappably cool as Clint Eastwood. As “Pillion” builds, we see Colin clawing back some of the self-respect he sacrificed along the way. That’s the extent of the plot, and though a movie like “Pillion” is still largely unprecedented, its story might have worked better as subtext to a larger narrative (as it is, there’s nothing else happening in Colin’s life).
Freud saw submissiveness as a manifestation of subconscious guilt — a tool for those with shame in expressing their sexual desires — and there’s almost certainly a degree of that at play here. In theory, it’s easier to let one’s dominant partner do the steering. At first, Colin’s too shy to admit what he wants. But over the course of his time with Ray, he discovers what gives him pleasure. More importantly, he learns how to ask for it.
