‘Pillion’: BDSM relationships in the post-‘Babygirl’ era
For a very long time, sex was about the most transgressive thing you could see on screen, with audiences of the past almost fainting at the mere sight of an exposed collarbone or elbow. Any vaguely intimate aspect of the human experience was banned from cinema, with the public message being that you could experience these things in private, but it wasn’t to be acknowledged through any public forum. Storytelling was a means of entertainment, not a medium for self-actualisation.
However, in recent years, we have expanded the confines of cinema beyond the walls of our personal lives, with stories that reach into our hearts and, shockingly, the bedroom. Countless filmmakers continue giving voice to our repressed and sometimes sordid sexual desires, whether it be wholesome romances like Dirty Dancing or complex cautionary tales like The Piano Teacher.
But as our definitions of sexuality evolve and we generally become more aware of the many ways that it can be expressed, so do the stories we see on screen, with films like Secretary, Babygirl and Belle de Jour exploring the roles of kinks, fetishes and power play in modern relationships. While you could assume that there is a wider understanding of these dynamics, the release and baffling misinterpretation of Babygirl perhaps proved that we have not evolved as much as we thought. A surprising number of people have reacted in a prudish and, quite honestly, misogynistic way at the sight of Nicole Kidman’s character reconnecting with her repressed desires, showing just how behind we truly are when it comes to frank discussions around sexual pleasure, especially that of women.
It was for this reason that I found myself feeling nervous yet intrigued by the reaction to Pillion, directed by Harry Lighton, which follows the relationship between a mysterious biker and his newly appointed submissive as they relish in the thrills of BDSM and complete intimacy. With the genius casting of Harry Melling and Alexander Skarsgård, who already has a reputation for playing strange yet broodingly sexy characters, Lighton has created something that is both riotously funny in its very British humour and surprisingly beautiful. He expertly shows the community, affirmation and vulnerability that reluctantly blossoms between the characters Colin and Ray.
Melling is achingly endearing as Colin, playing someone who is incredibly eager to please and unsure of himself. While he is out and open about his sexuality, we get the feeling that there is something in the way of him unlocking his true self, something that is exposed after meeting Skarsgård’s Ray and allows him to realise sexual fantasies that were hidden the whole time.
While Ray is initially less enthused about meeting Colin, he soon finds himself in a complex BDSM relationship with him and his biker gang, joining his kink community and being swept up in the thrills of an unexplored domain in the twee suburbs of Bromley (of all places). However, as the film goes on, we become unsure if Colin is truly happy with the terms of his relationship and whether he is going along with it to be accepted and mould himself into what Ray wants from him.
At first, Colin embraces everything this dynamic has to offer, gladly succumbing to Ray’s beck and call and doing everything in his power to please him. But slowly, he begins to rebel against the clear terms of their partnership—he isn’t allowed to sleep in a bed, but one day tries to creep under the covers with Ray. He suggests that they take a weekly day off from their dominant and submissive roles, posing the idea of having brunch together, going on long walks and holding hands in public, all of which are very traditionally coupley activities. Ray sternly rejects these suggestions, leading us to wonder whether this is something that Colin truly wants or if he is simply too polite to say otherwise. Perhaps he’s playing along in the hopes that they will one day be a traditional couple who regularly do these things together.
It’s a story about power and its relinquishment as well as the many ways that love can take shape. The community of the biker gang fills the void left by an absence of affection as they seek other forms of romantic fulfilment. Power play becomes its own expression of love, and while Ray is comfortable with his sexual preferences, we get the impression that Colin perhaps isn’t being authentic to what he truly wants.
Towards the end of the film, Ray indulges Colin’s fantasies of having a ‘normal ‘relationship, with one day in which they have brunch, go on a long walk and hold hands in public. A clear boundary within their relationship has also been the unspoken rule that they will not kiss, with Ray finally kissing him on their perfect day and realising the one fantasy that Colin has been yearning for the whole time. We see Ray in an entirely different light; he seems brighter, warmer, something that you could perhaps deduce as a side effect of being in love. After they kiss, it is the first time we see Ray truly vulnerable, with the power dynamics briefly switching as he is left exposed and navigating unfamiliar territory, akin to Colin in the beginning, startled by the emotional intimacy between them in the jarring ‘normality’ of the moment.
But, after this day, they never see each other again. Ray vanishes overnight, leaving only his empty apartment, the tire marks of his bike, and Colin completely devastated by the absence of their relationship and the camaraderie of their biker community. However, time heals all wounds, and Lighton ends with Colin in the aftermath of heartbreak, tracing his way back to himself and putting himself out there by creating a Grindr profile that highlights his talents as a submissive.
Perhaps Ray does help Colin reach the depths of his true desires, with the ending pointing towards the fact that this was something he wanted after all, with one added requirement being that he needs one day off a week, something the former offered as a parting gift.
Pillion is a tale of self-discovery and intimacy, tracing a carnal exploration of yearning and the clash between emotional fragility and physical dominance. It finds Colin realising his full potential as a submissive, which affords him the lessons and independence to do it on his own terms. While he does submit to his desires, he soars with a broken heart and does not remain dominated by unfulfillment.
