Tell me good things don’t emerge from big-budget studio franchises. On the one hand, a good friend of mine has nothing but contempt for cinematic tentpoles. She sneers at the MCU, rolls her eyes at Star Wars, thinks the Jurassic Park/World films are a fool’s errand, and believes the Mission: Impossible franchise is little more than a decades-long vanity project for a narcissistic movie star. 

Maybe so. Conversely, those four-quadrant franchises can act as a springboard for new talent, and give that talent a shot at building a real acting career.* The James Bond franchise has been viewed as the gold standard for that sort of thing,** with Daniel Craig being the most recent example. After fans initially threw a conniption fit over the idea of James Bond having blond hair, Craig played Bond in five mostly successful installments.***

A look at Craig’s filmography shows that he’s always been more interested in being an actor than a movie star. In between Bond films, Craig has taken risks and turned in strong performances in films like Munich, Logan Lucky, and the far from a sure thing Knives Out. Now, he’s got what looks an awful lot like a career-best performance in Luca Guadagnino’s new film Queer.

Mexico City in the 1950s is an attractive place to call home for William Lee (Daniel Craig). We learn that, after unspecified service in the military, he’s left the United States due to pending charges of heroin possession. Sooner or later, he would have been charged with something else. As a gay man from the United States, Lee is acutely aware that he’s a man without a country.

Instead, Lee lives a life of shabby gentility in Mexico City. His G.I. benefits go much further under the peso. So much so that he spends his days pleasantly drunk and his nights cruising for good-looking men. He’s a regular at the Ship Ahoy bar, run by his friend Joe Guidry (Jason Schwartzman). Joe regales Lee with his misadventures, such as an exchange with a local cop that goes sideways. He explains that the cop wrote “El Puto Gringo” in huge letters on the exterior wall of Joe’s home. Joe is cool with it. “I left it there. It pays to advertise.”

If nothing had changed, Lee would have lived a quietly louche existence. Yet two things will change. The first is Lee’s discovery of the mysterious drug known as ayahuasca. In his opinion, if it’s good enough for the CIA and KGB to experiment on to create a drug that enhances human telepathy, then it’s good enough for him. The drug can be found deep in the South American jungles, and the botanist Dr. Cotter (Lesley Manville) just might be able to help Lee walk through its psychedelic door.

The other thing is an object, no, the object of Lee’s affection. That would be Eugene Allerton (Drew Starkey), a young man fresh out of the military. He regards Lee with cool interest, an interest that could be financial, emotional, or both. In return, Lee burns for him. It’s a combustible combination of loneliness, desperation, and raw lust which will take the two men from the streets of Mexico City to the jungles of Ecuador. All fueled by need.

First, a confession. Queer is the first Luca Guadagnino joint I’ve ever seen. If you’re a movie dork like me, you have blind spots. It could be the films of Wong Kar-wai, or perhaps the French New Wave, but there’s something you feel like you should have seen that you haven’t. One of my (many) blind spots is Guadagnino’s work. For years, I’ve heard he’s one to watch, and while I’ve been aware in theory that he’s a talented, clever, and hilariously horny filmmaker, I haven’t pulled the trigger until now.****

Is Queer a directorial masterpiece? I don’t think so, but it is incredibly ambitious. The tone gradually shifts from a post-World War II study of expat ennui to an urgent drama about romantic and sexual obsession to a psychedelia-fueled odyssey through the jungles of South America. That tone shift is a wise choice, since Guadagnino is tracking Lee’s emotional journey. Guadagnino wants us to feel what Lee is feeling, and whether he’s making multiple stops at seedy bars or tripping balls on ayahuasca, that feeling is ultimately based on need. Watch the scene where Lee walks to a Mexico City bar to Nirvana’s “Come As You Are.” The combination of editing, cinematography, music, and performance creates a seedy sensuality. I hate to use the term “self indulgent” when it comes to film, but I will say that a few times, I could feel the film drag a little. But in thinking about it, I reckon that’s more a factor of Guadagnino attempting to wrap his arms around complex characters in an untraditional narrative based on a novel by a countercultural icon.

Remember I mentioned ambition? That’s an accurate description, considering Guadagnino and screenwriter Justin Kuritzkes adapted their script from William S. Burroughs’ novella. If you know anything about Burroughs, and I only know a little, you know that we lucked out with the screenplay being an adaptation of his early and still relatively straightforward work. Even still, the script grapples with a profoundly damaged man who lives with a void inside of himself. Lee tries to fill it with gallons of booze, heroin, nameless sex, obsession, and plant-fueled magick. As both an adaptation and a standalone piece of writing, Kuritzkes’ screenplay is excellent.

A film like this requires not only a screenplay willing to go as far as the source material, but also actors willing to shed their vanity and travel wherever is necessary. For the most part, we have that here. Daniel Craig does career best work as Lee, and if there’s any justice in this world (Spoiler alert, there isn’t!), he’ll be in the Best Actor conversation for the Academy Awards. He grabs the camera’s attention in his crumpled linen suit and holstered pistol. Lee has a bruised confidence, even when he’s at his lowest moments, as evidenced by a scene where he quietly confirms to a doctor that he needs to stop abusing opiates but also would very much like a prescription for emergency opiates. Craig’s performance is remarkably skillful in terms of how he inhabits the character of Lee. He alters the way he walks, the way he drinks, the way he kisses in such a way that he could only be Lee. What’s a little unfortunate is that, as Eugene Allerton, Drew Starkey is never quite able to match Craig’s intensity. Is that intentional, I wonder? Eugene seems like he’s meant to be somewhat of a blank, the kind of man who’s happy to go along with Lee as long as he’s making a few pesos and the circumstances are reasonably pleasant. But there are moments, such as Lee collapsing into the throes of addiction, where Eugene still sticks around. Does he love Lee in his reserved way? Is he curious to see how events will shake out? I was never sure because of Starkey’s locked-down performance, and perhaps that’s the point. He’s playing a person who’s a social chameleon, someone who is all surfaces. You can see how that might be a problem for someone like Lee.

If it hadn’t been for the Bond franchise, we might not have gotten Daniel Craig, and we might not have gotten Queer. While there’s nothing wrong with four-quadrant blockbusters, they generally aren’t designed to provoke thought or require work on the part of the viewer. Queer, on the other hand, demands that you pay attention. It’s a film that requires engagement on the part of the viewer, both intellectual and emotional. Trust me, it’s worth it.

*Can, being the operative word. Sam Worthington is a reliable character actor that Hollywood tried like hell to make into the next big thing.

**But is it, really? The MCU has created a greater number of new movie stars, only three Bond actors (Connery, Brosnan, Craig) really made the leap to a long-term acting career, and none of the female leads/sidekicks/villains in the Bond-verse shared in the heat given to the dudes playing 007.

***Casino Royale being the best Bond film made to date, and I’m sorry, I won’t be taking questions at this time.

****You wouldn’t believe how much flak I’ve gotten for not seeing Challengers yet.

Tim Brennan Movie Critic

Tim has been alarmingly enthusiastic about movies ever since childhood. He grew up in Boulder and, foolishly, left Colorado to study Communications in Washington State. Making matters worse, he moved to Connecticut after meeting his too-good-for-him wife. Drawn by the Rockies and a mild climate, he triumphantly returned and settled down back in Boulder County. He's written numerous screenplays, loves hiking, and embarrassed himself in front of Samuel L. Jackson. True story.