Watching the promotional campaign for Harry Lighton’s debut feature Pillion play out, since its award-winning world premiere at Cannes last year and its UK opening in late November, has—appropriately enough—felt like an extended edging session. Thankfully, the climax was worth all the teasing and anticipation that came with the perfectly orchestrated slow drip of tantalizing film stills, trailers, chat show appearances, and red carpet moments. The wait for US audiences is finally over, beginning with the New York and Los Angeles theatrical release of Pillion this Friday, February 6th, followed by a nationwide rollout by A24.
Set in present-day Southeast English suburbia, the premise sees two disparate worlds improbably collide. An unassuming and nerdy, but endearing Colin (Harry Melling), a traffic warden in his 30s who still lives at home with his parents, drives to the local pub on Christmas Eve to perform in a barbershop quartet with his father, Pete (Douglas Hodge). The car stereo pumps out the exuberantly obedient 1960s classic “I Will Follow Him” by Little Peggy March, as a sexy motorcyclist in white leathers (with detailing in leather pride colours) appears at his rear then overtakes him. That same evening, Colin has been set up on a blind date with a guy named Chigs (Jake Sharp) by his adoring, perhaps a touch overbearing, mother Peggy (a terrific Lesley Sharp). Chigs (it’s all there in the name really) gives off an affable, cheeky chappie vibe, and Grace Snell’s costume design tells us all we need to know about the man, with him sporting a tshirt that reads “Alexa: Free Britney” in sparkly lettering. He seems like he’d be a nice, fun, reliable boyfriend who could offer Colin a stable, “normal” gay life. But it is another man who catches Colin’s eye.
The impossibly tall and handsome biker, Ray (Alexander Skarsgård), who sped past Colin’s car has joined a group of his leather-clad biker friends at the same pub. Their shaved heads, piercings and tattoos, as well as their intimate body language with one another, suggests this is a hot and kinky gay biker pack. Colin’s interest is aroused. At the bar, Ray introduces himself by making Colin pay for the bags of crisps he’s ordered. When Colin obeys, grateful to even be noticed by this otherworldly Adonis, Ray leaves instructions of the time and place to meet up the following day in Bromley town centre, outside Primark. Could there be a more glamorous location for a first date? Colin dutifully leaves his Christmas Day family celebrations at home and ends up down a dark alleyway with the commanding Tom of Finland fantasy come to life in modern motorcycle leathers that is Ray. The long, slow unzipping of Ray’s fly is an epic, truly cinematic moment that captures how the promise of sex can be just as hot as the act itself. Clearly sexually inexperienced, Colin fumbles his way through what quickly emerges as a Dom/sub scenario, with him put in his place as the submissive learning how to please his master by licking his boots and fellating his seizable, Prince Albert-adorned penis. He’s left down on his knees with a satisfied smile on his face.
This Christmas Day alleyway sex turns out to be the start of Colin’s eduction in being an obedient sub to Ray’s dom. The strictness of their dynamic leaves Colin doing all of the shopping and cooking, shut out of Ray’s bed to sleep on the floor, and generally doing as instructed. Ray is “discreet”, a man of few words who we learn precious little about. A situation that dramatically comes to a head in one the film’s standout scenes when Ray reluctantly agrees to have dinner with Colin’s parents. The stakes are heightened by the fact that Peggy has cancer and knows that she won’t be around for much longer. Sharp beautifully calibrates her performance as Peggy wrestles with trying to be welcoming and accepting of her gay son’s relationship, while her distaste and bewilderment for the way she perceives that he is being treated by the new man in his life bubbles up. The scene is by turns exquisitely awkward, deeply moving, and downright hilarious. A masterclass in acting, writing, and directing, we empathize with the clashing perspectives of everyone in that room.
While Colin may be our way into the BDSM biker world, he never feels like a clunky surrogate for audience members unfamiliar with this milieu and nothing is over-explained. Lighton’s deft writing and direction never others, judges or fetishizes these characters and their lifestyle, instead he introduces them with a grounded, delightfully refreshing ordinariness, stripping kink of the dark and ominous tone that it is so often presented with on screen, both in mainstream media and pornography. Surprising soundtrack choices like Tiffany’s peppy 1987 cover of “I Think We’re Alone Now”, which accompanies Colin’s first wrestling session with Ray, also keep things buoyant. While the filmmaker’s commitment to authenticity includes casting members of a real-life British group, the Gay Bikers Motorcycle Club (gbmcc), as Ray’s friends.
Lighton chooses to set one of the film’s breathtaking set pieces, a biker gang orgy, outdoors in broad daylight with the subs bent over picnic tables awaiting their doms like an erotic buttock buffet. It is playful with a touch of the mundane, as cinematographer Nick Morris pans across the woods to reveal the men’s patient rumps in a way that startles, amuses, and turns us on. It does all this while invoking a cinéma vérité style, with a sense that the camera is merely revealing what is naturally there rather than something overly staged for a movie. This scene takes place after we’ve got to see a close and loving connection between the men as they skinny dip in a river wrestling with one another in an invigorating English countryside queer idyll vignette. It is also in that sequence where Ray demeans Colin by replacing him with another sub, Kevin (a wonderful Jake Shears, making the most of every second he’s on screen), bringing in another fascinating power play dynamic between the three men that filters into the subsequent orgy. As with every sex scene in the film, much of what makes this one so riveting is the psychological aspect and its narrative beats, along with its satisfying spiciness and a touch of humour.
The real masterstroke by Lighton is playing against the expectations of the subject matter to create a film that is so warm, inviting, and accessible to a broad audience, without relinquishing any of its authenticity or queer edge. It is a balance that is expertly handled throughout and Lighton’s use of familiar rom-com beats as both a way in and a subversion of expectations feels more transgressive than delivering something hard-edged and abrasive that might have shut some people out. Adapted from Adam Mars-Jones’ 1970s-set novel, Box Hill: A Story of Low Self-Esteem, Lighton’s screenplay is a work of art in itself, dexterously navigating tonal shifts. The dialogue is natural and wonderfully spare, letting looks and body language do much of the talking, but there are some one-line bangers along the way too.
Ultimately, the film isn’t about the ins and outs of a Dom/sub arrangement, as intriguing as that aspect might be, but about human emotions that everyone can identify with and a search for individual pleasure and satisfaction, no matter what the judgments of society or even those closest to us might be. The power play dynamics may be heightened and more explicitly defined between Ray and Colin than in most “normative” relationships, but they are relatable to every couple. For instance, she might not be wearing a leather biker cap, but it is Peggy who dominates a willing Pete in Colin’s familial home.
As Colin navigates his initiation into kink, it becomes about his self-discovery and eventually his empowerment in embracing exactly what he wants and needs. Melling makes for a compelling protagonist, his expressive face brings so much depth and nuance to the character and it is thrilling to see the awakening in him as he begins to take agency in his life. While Skarsgård brings a stillness to Ray that commands the screen and draws us in, his performance is a nuanced tour-de-force, offering us glimpses of who this man is behind his inscrutable Dom exterior. He is an elusive and slippery but utterly intriguing character. The names tattooed on Ray’s chest hint at another life. Might they be former girlfriends, wives, or daughters? One of them is “Rosie”, the name of his Rottweiler. Perhaps they are all dogs’ names. Afterall, Ray shows far more explicit affection to Rosie, along with his beloved motorbike, than he does to Colin. Though as the film goes on things start to shift.
In other hands, Colin might have been frustrating and Ray, cold and impenetrable, shutting out the audience, but Melling and Skarsgård are captivating, and their unlikely screen pairing is not only perfect for the roles, but creates cinematic alchemy. Lighton has assembled a similarly strong team behind the camera to help him realize his vision. Unexpectedly romantic, Pillion is as sweet and tender as it is sexy and seductive, with all the charm and humour of classic British movies like Beautiful Thing, Billy Elliot, and The Full Monty, with a contemporary and unashamedly kinky flavour. Lighton’s dom-com is a real winner.
By James Kleinmann
Pillion opens in select theaters in New York and Los Angeles on Friday, February 6th, 2026 from A24 before expanding nationwide.
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