One of the benefits of having an art-house cinema in town is that you can see films that no commercial multiplex would touch. Director Harry Lighton’s feature debut, Pillion, currently playing at Burlington’s Partizanfilm, is one of those. Recipient of the Best Screenplay prize at the Cannes Film Festival and four British Independent Film Awards, Pillion could be described as a sweet, down-to-earth comedy about an unlikely relationship … if your idea of “sweet” encompasses biker leather daddies treating their submissive boyfriends to ice cream.
The deal
Colin (Harry Melling) is an awkward young man who hasn’t found his groove. He works as a parking enforcer, sings in a barbershop quartet, and lives with his parents (Douglas Hodge and Lesley Sharp), who are supportive busybodies eager to set him up with a nice guy.
The problem is, Colin may not like nice guys. During a gig at a pub, he encounters a towering, taciturn biker named Ray (Alexander Skarsgård) who slips him a note arranging a rendezvous. The two hook up before they’ve exchanged more than a few words, but Ray exudes powerful vibes, and Colin wants more. He soon learns that the only way to get closer to Ray is to play by Ray’s rules, immersing himself in a BDSM biker subculture that transforms him inside and out.
How can Colin possibly explain to his mum that he runs his new boyfriend’s errands, follows his orders and sleeps at the foot of his bed? And what if he decides he wants more from the relationship than he’s getting?
Will you like it?
First, the caveats: While Pillion has many dryly funny moments, it’s not a rom-com, it’s not “Heated Rivalry” (see sidebar), and it’s not a swoony gay Fifty Shades of Grey. The movie offers plenty to offend many viewers, from those who shun explicit on-screen sex to those who fear compromising their childhood memories of the Harry Potter franchise (Melling played Dudley Dursley) to those who want to see gay culture portrayed only in an unambiguously wholesome light.
Even some kink educators may object that the movie involves almost no verbal explanations of BDSM practices or examples of explicit consent. While the Fifty Shades movie was less about sex than about a blushing damsel girding her loins to enter the subculture — even signing an elaborate contract with her dom! — Pillion just jumps right in. Colin learns the bikers’ rituals as he goes, and we learn with him. He’s a good learner, too — someone who, as he puts it, has “an aptitude for devotion.”
Lighton excels at nonverbal storytelling, using the actors and mise-en-scène to illustrate themes and conflicts rather than telling us about them. Melling’s performance carries a lot of weight: Our view of Colin and Ray’s relationship turns on whether we can see that Colin enjoys what he’s doing. We do, thanks to Melling’s darting, beady eyes and kid-getting-away-with-something smile. Likewise, Skarsgård needs to show us that Ray isn’t an abusive jerk, his dominant behavior a careful and even caring performance. The actor does, giving meaning to every subtle vocal shift and gesture.
The film presents every scene with the same documentary-style neutrality, from Colin’s chats with his parents — who are wonderfully weird in their own way — to wrestling as foreplay to a full-blown sex picnic en plein air. The matter-of-fact naturalism of Pillion normalizes kink, making us wonder if the bikers’ lifestyle is really that different from the culturally sanctioned role-playing of more conventional couples. A shot of the bikers enjoying ice cream on a sunny day speaks volumes. For all their leather, piercings and other edgy regalia, these grizzled fellows seem like pretty solid citizens.
The movie coasts through amusing fish-out-of-water montages until Colin finds his footing and begins testing the rules, figuring out what works for him and what doesn’t. When he tries to renegotiate the terms of the relationship with Ray, the scenario is all too relatable: How do you ask for what you want when your partner doesn’t do conversation?
Some viewers may regret that Pillion doesn’t do more to unlock Ray’s psyche. Though his mask occasionally slips, he ultimately remains as mysterious to us as he does to Colin, a sculpted male archetype who clearly isn’t comfortable being vulnerable.
But this is Colin’s belated coming-of-age story, not a romance, and Ray’s imperturbability plays a key role in that evolution. While the cringe is strong (and deliberate) in many scenes of Pillion, Lighton makes it clear that kink isn’t an embarrassing detour for Colin — it’s how he comes to know himself. For him, in a very real sense, submission becomes empowering.
If you like this, try…
The Duke of Burgundy (2014; AMC+, MUBI, Philo, PLEX, Pluto TV, Tubi, YouTube Primetime): Like Pillion, Peter Strickland’s art-house film delves into the psychological dynamics of a BDSM relationship — in this case, between two women in an impeccable retro setting.
“Heated Rivalry” (2024; HBO Max): While I would hesitate to recommend Pillion to every fan of the viral hockey romance show, I do think the latter might work for those who liked the former. Critic Wesley Morris recently linked the two and praised both in the New York Times.
Weekend (2011; AMC+, Philo, Pluto TV, MUBI, YouTube Primetime, rentable): If you seek a tender, realistic gay love story without the BDSM, check out this drama from “Looking” creator Andrew Haigh. Also worth seeing (but much sadder) is his All of Us Strangers (2023; rentable).
This article appears in March 4 • 2026.


