Queer
Queer is a bit like Anora, but queer—and without the kind gopnik at the end.
Luca Guadagnino isn’t slowing down, delivering two films in one cinematic season. The first, Challengers, made it into my top films of the year. And now, just ahead of awards season, we’re finally treated to Queer—a vibrant visual feast and an exploration of desire, obsession, and longing, all while posing the question: Should Guadagnino take a break?
The film follows William Lee, an American expatriate who moves to Mexico in the 1950s to escape societal persecution as a queer man. What unfolds is a hedonistic odyssey filled with casual sex, alcohol-soaked nights, endless bar crawls, and a spiraling addiction to narcotics. One day, he notices Eugene, another American living in Mexico. What begins as fascination quickly turns into obsession. William courts Eugene, pursuing a connection with him at all costs. Eugene, however, remains distant, emotionally unavailable, and seemingly indifferent to William’s attempts at intimacy.
At its heart, Queer is a story of desire—physical, emotional, and spiritual—and the dissonance that occurs when two people’s needs don’t align. Guadagnino structures the narrative into distinct chapters, each painting a vivid fragment of this tale of longing and rejection. The film is anchored in William’s unrelenting pursuit of Eugene, but its true focus lies in the broader themes of unfulfilled connection and the tension between proximity and intimacy.
Visually, Queer is mesmerizing. Guadagnino’s depiction of 1950s Mexico is drenched in striking, sun-soaked colors, sweat on skin, and a dreamlike quality that feels like a recollection of William’s sweet memories—sometimes embellished beyond what might have actually happened. The director’s signature flair for creating sensual, evocative imagery is on full display, with lush landscapes and intense erotic moments that practically drip off the screen—or, let’s be honest, are sometimes thrown right in your face (though the prosthetics team seemingly had a budget of about $5).
However, while the visuals are impressive, the storytelling falls short. By the film’s halfway point, the central idea—that longing for love and unity doesn’t necessarily lead to reciprocity—is already clear. However, Guadagnino tries to make this point again about 20 minutes later. And then once more. And again. Yet, the dynamic between William and Eugene remains stagnant. The second half escalates into surreal extremes as the pair journeys to Ecuador, seeking a reclusive scientist in the Amazon to experiment with hallucinogens in a desperate attempt to connect. Even amidst this feverish chaos, the narrative circles back to the same unresolved tension, essentially reiterating the same point that was made an hour earlier.
Daniel Craig delivers a fantastic performance as William Lee, shedding his suave Bond persona for a deeply nuanced portrayal of a man consumed by yearning. His performance captures William’s vulnerability and heartbreak in ways that are both devastating and captivating. Drew Starkey’s Eugene, on the other hand, feels one-dimensional—gorgeous but emotionally inert. It’s hard to say whether this is due to the role itself or simply Starkey looking hot. Meanwhile, Jason Schwartzman bookends the film with a quirky and memorable performance in a minor role, and despite his limited screen time, he truly elevates every scene he’s in.
Ultimately, Queer feels like a fever dream of obsession and heartbreak, but one that overstays its welcome. While Challengers offered depth and the necessary imagination to elevate its characters’ arcs, Queer remains stuck in its own narrative cycle, unable to move beyond its central thesis. The result is a visually stunning but emotionally exhausting experience that raises the question of whether Guadagnino has trapped himself within the confines of the stories he wants to tell.
5/10
