Queer

by Mike McGranaghan

Who better than Luca Guadagnino to adapt the work of William S. Burroughs? The famed writer’s books are complex and mature, requiring someone comfortable with experimental filmmaking techniques to capture their essence. Guadagnino has made pictures as daring as Call Me by Your Name, Bones and All, and Challengers. It’s a perfect fit. And yet, like David Cronenberg’s 1991 Naked Lunch, Queer suggests the limitations of trying to recreate such a distinct voice in a different medium. There’s a lot to admire here, even as the film ultimately proves disappointing.

William Lee (Daniel Craig) is an American expatriate living in Mexico City in 1950. He’s got a few casual friends, including fellow expat Joe Guidry (Jason Schwartzman), although close relationships are not something he seems to desire. Lee prefers the pleasures of heroin and the occasional bedroom tryst with another, preferably younger man. That changes when he meets former soldier Eugene Allerton (Hellraiser’s Drew Starkey). Something about this guy seems different and alluring. Despite passionate lovemaking and a joint trip to South America, it’s questionable whether Allerton feels as strongly.

Guadagnino is undeniably up to the task, once again showing a willingness to portray sexuality onscreen with refreshing frankness. The director also takes some stylistic risks, including the creative use of dissolves and overlapping images to create a sense of Lee’s dissociation from the world around him. Similarly effective is the use of anachronistic music from artists like Prince, New Order, and Nirvana. A slow-motion sequence set to “Come As You Are” is one of the most visually striking things you’ll see this year.

The hurdle is that Burroughs’ surreal approach to writing presents plotting challenges. Not a whole lot happens in the first two-thirds of Queer. We essentially get a case study of Lee as he frolics around in a chemical and sex-fueled daze. Craig does an admirable job in conveying the “lost,” wandering quality of the character, but has no chemistry with Starkey. In fact, Starkey is kind of a dud here. Nothing he does makes Allerton register much in the way of personality. Without a strong central dynamic between the two leads, the intentionally meandering story doesn’t hold together.

Another issue is that it’s impossible to separate Burroughs’ life from his work. Any adaptation is, by definition, going to detour into weird druggy territory. The movie’s last act finds Lee and Allerton traversing the jungle to find ayahuasca. An unrecognizable Lesley Manville plays Dr. Cotter, the gun-toting scientist doing “research” in the field who provides them with what they seek. This section backseats the men’s physical relationship in favor of showing the bizarre hallucinations they endure after tripping. It’s more traditionally compelling; it’s also tonally out of sync with the two chapters that precede it.

Queer valiantly attempts to replicate the author’s uniquely freeform vibe. Saying it succeeds wouldn’t be a stretch. Therein lies the rub, though. It’s possible that cinema isn’t entirely compatible with Burroughs’ voice. As with Hunter S. Thompson, the closer a film stays true to his style, the more mannered it begins to feel.

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