PILLION: Love is the Whole Point (Unless You Can’t Allow It …)

One demands power. One gives it up. That’s Ray and Colin in Harry Lighton's touching and sad film, Pillion. The emotional interplay between them gives us a window into anxieties at the heart of love. That is, when love can’t simply be the point. No, love is not simple for some people. It’s scary. Vulnerable. Insecure. And, sometimes, love is just not allowed. When it’s not, hurt follows. Especially when Colin does everything possible to be wanted and Ray, everything not to need.

Fears of Love and Loss 

Colin’s a shy boy. Not adventuresome. Struggling with fears of love, even though he has a loving family. His mom and dad clearly love each other and support him. Mom (desperately) wants Colin to find love. Not be alone after she’s gone. He’s at a bar with someone his mom set him up with. But his attention is on a group of bikers, as far as can be from who Colin is. Gregarious. Playful. Raucous. Not shy. He stands next to a gorgeous biker at the bar. That’s Ray, who looks straight at Colin, slipping him a note with an address to meet on Christmas Day. His brother asks, “What kind of person asks someone for a date on Christmas Day?” Mom says, “Maybe he’s alone.”

Lonely people, Colin (Harry Melling) and Ray (Alexander Skarsgard). But their loneliness shows up differently. Besides his biker crew, Ray’s a loner. Keeps everything about himself secret. He won’t let anyone in. He’s dominant. Controls everything. Everything. Especially when it comes to relationships. He wants something. He does. But he won’t be vulnerable. Ray can’t need anyone.

Colin, though, is so desperate for something that he’ll do anything for love. Anything. He’s never been wanted romantically. And his mom is dying. That’s hard to wrap his mind around. Yet, Colin has family. It appears that Ray does not. Likely, deep down, Ray feels as unwanted as Colin does. But his go-to defense is to make himself desired by every man who meets him. He must have been hurt by love. Lost someone early in his life. Or no one was ever there for him. That can make you helpless. That can make you scared. That can make you want a lot of power over your needs.

Colin and Ray are two sides of the same coin.

But if you don’t look too deeply, you’d never know. 

Needing to be Wanted

What do you do when you don’t feel worthy of romantic love? When you feel “less than.” When you compare yourself to others and never, ever measure up? One choice is to submit. To do anything to make yourself wanted. That’s Colin. He can’t believe Ray, Ray! That gorgeous man! Wants a date. Wants to hook up with him. So ... sure. He’ll follow Ray anywhere and in any way.

We watch him running awkwardly after Ray, down the street, into a dark alley, on that first date. Ray asks, " What am I going to do with you?” Colin replies, “Whatever you want.” That’s Ray’s cue. Colin can be the one with all the wants and needs. Not Ray. Never Ray. They arm wrestle. Colin doesn’t give in easily. But when Ray commands him to, he does: “Do you give?” “Yes, I give.”

Next, Ray demands a blow job. Colin is awkward. Maybe he’s never done this before. At first, he gags. Ray just stands impassively and expects him to continue. Of course, Colin does. Ray shows no signs of pleasure. Starts walking away. Colin follows, saying that he saw an open bar. Ray says, “I gotta go.” Colon apologizes and says that some things just take practice, and maybe he could practice with Ray. Ray says, “I’m not around here much.” And, he gets his dog. “See Ya.”

It’s a miserable New Year’s Eve for Colin. He keeps texting Ray. He’ll do anything to be wanted. And, when Ray finally calls him in the middle of work, Colin drops everything.

Once at Ray’s house, Ray says he’ll show him where everything is, and then Colin can make dinner. “Pots and pans. Something easy. Pasta tonight. Go easy on the cheese.’ Colin says he’s not a very good cook, but he’ll give it a go. He’s surprised that he’s being ordered around… BUT. Anything to be wanted ... “Roses are red, violets are blue. Each day at your heel brings me closer to you. Your hand on the throttle, your leather so tight. I crave your command from morning to night. Your grip is a promise, your gaze a hot flame. Next to you, I am nothing, but I'm yours all the same. The pleasure you give, the pain that you bring. I'll take it all, Ray, for you are my king.”

Wanting Not to Need 

Colin has “an aptitude for devotion.” That’s what desperation can do. To Ray, on the other hand, dominance means power. Power over his needs. He refuses have any. The only thing that can mean is that Ray was traumatized as a child. Someone made him feel bad about his needs. Just like he’s making Colin feel. Colin is a stand-in for how Ray was treated as a child. Love isn’t safe.

And, when love isn’t safe, you tell yourself it doesn’t matter. That you don’t want it or need it. In fact, you just won’t allow it. That’s Ray. He gets what he needs by …

Control. Insistence. Demands.

Love? That’s not in the picture. Ray will be admired by all. At a distance.

Colin: You know I love you, right?

Ray: [long pause] Yeah.

Colin: But what?

Ray: That's not what this is, Colin. That's not the point.

Colin: Isn't... love the whole point?

Ray: Of what?

Colin: Everything. 

Love can’t be anything for Ray. Not if it triggers his early feelings of being unwanted. We don’t know for sure, but it’s a reasonable hypothesis.

Why else would he make Colin feel so unwanted?

I’m not Unwanted. You Are. 

Sometimes when you're afraid of being unwanted, you'll do anything for love. But sometimes when you're afraid of being unwanted, you make someone else feel that way. That's Ray. With Colin. Ray does many things to show Colin, who loves him, that he could “care less.” Such as:

On Colin’s first night as Ray’s submissive: “If you’re quiet, you can sleep on the rug. If not, you should sleep in the hallway.” Ray turns away, lies in his big-enough-bed-for-two, ignores Colin, and looks at his phone. His phone is oh-so-much more interesting.

Colin looks unhappy on the floor.

Or, as Ray plays Erik Satie, Colin stands behind him. It’s Colin’s birthday. But, of course, Ray ignores that. He asks, ‘You want to say something?” “No.” “You sure?” “Yeah. Well. Wondering if maybe you might want to come have dinner with my parents?” “Not a good idea.” Not for Ray.

Yes, he’ll make Colin feel really bad about wanting anything. (“You’re expecting a birthday present?”) That’s because Ray can’t know he wants anything. He demands things. But wanting is a different story. Any wants are buried and rejected in Ray. They are all in Colin. “You’re not expecting a birthday present?” “No, I’m not. It’s just she wants to meet you properly. She’s quite ill. She’s dying, actually, but I don’t wanna force you.” “Well, it sounds like that is exactly what you’re trying to do here.” “I didn’t mean to upset you.” “Oh, you couldn’t upset me if you tried.…”

No ... It’s Colin who is upset. Ray won’t be vulnerable. He can’t be. But Colin will.

Controlling Vulnerability 

Ray buys Colin biker clothes. And now Colin’s got a buzz cut. Ray’s making Colin over in his image. Someone tougher. Yes, Ray makes sure he has a hardened skin, sealed over his more sensitive inside. Colin’s not tough, but he’s accepted affectionately by the other bikers. Ray even smiles. But just a little. Ray won’t let down his guard. If he does, a huge red-light warning goes off in him.

 So, Ray makes sure not to get close to Colin. He’s the “big man.” To everyone. He carries Colin on his shoulders. They arm wrestle. Ray quickly subs out Colin for a green-haired biker, Kevin (Jake Shears). Colin’s hurt. Kevin tells him that Ray is impossibly handsome and that they look good together because Colin brings Ray’s handsomeness into relief. But, confesses Kevin, the “no kissing rule” would drive Kevin crazy. He couldn’t handle no kissing. Colin pretends it's “ok.” It’s not. Colin longs for love. Ray keeps any possibility of loving feelings far away. Ray can’t allow love.  

No kissing is no intimacy. No caring. No letting the other person matter. Colin tries not to let any of it bother him. Not the exhibitionistic sex all the bikers have. Not the changing partners. Colin has to watch Kevin giving Ray a blow job at Ray’s command. Everything is at Ray’s command. He’s all about control. Making Colin feel jealous and left out.  It’s all about doing what Ray wants.  He makes Colin give him a blowjob. Demands, “On your back,” so that Ray can have his way with him. But then, Ray puts his hand over Colin‘s mouth, kissing the back of his own hand. Not Colin’s lips. Yes. The no-kissing rule. “Happy birthday, Colin.” Is this a gift? Or, not? Colin looks ecstatic.

Ray gave him “something.”

But that’s very dangerous for someone who refuses to want love. 

Opening Up (...Or, Not) 

Things are getting a little too close for comfort for Ray. He goes to dinner with Colin’s mom and dad, and is actually, surprisingly, nice. He says the gravy is incredible and asks Peggy, Colin’s mom, how she makes it.  She tells him the recipe, and he says, “Oh, the hot sauce.” Peggy says Colin makes a good gravy, and Ray retorts, “Well … he makes a good omelet, but that’s about it.”

Peggy’s angry and suspicious of Ray. She doesn’t like the way he talks to Colin. She doesn’t like Ray’s secretiveness. Is he a “nut job?” “A serial killer?” “A creep?”

She’s afraid for her son.

Soon after this dinner, Peggy dies. At the service, Pete (Douglas Hodge), Colin’s dad, tries not to focus on the sadness but on the lovely life they had together. This is what he wants for Colin, what Peggy wanted. The question, “What does Colin have with Ray?” lingers heavily in the air.

Colin sits in the pews alone. We hear a motorbike in the background. But it’s not Ray. Ray doesn’t show up. Yet, he later finds Colin waiting on his steps. Ray looks at him with unusual concern,” How was it?” His eyes are soft for a change. Colin says, “It was good, a good turnout.” Ray looks lost, as if he wants to do something or say something else. But he doesn’t know how to give.

Colin is in a grief fugue, making gravy for Ray, and he burns his hand. As he collapses in pain, Ray catches him tenderly. He talks to Colin softly, even holds Colin’s shoulders while he sobs. As they sit on the couch together, Ray orders pizza for dinner (surprise! Dinner is Colin’s job.) Ray even says, “Sleep in the bed.” When Colin tells him, “I’m fine now,” Ray replies, “It wasn’t a question…”

Yes, it’s got to be another command. Ray can’t be that nice. But something different is happening. He puts his arm around Colin in bed. Does he want Colin close? Ray must have lost someone, too, long ago. He understands Colin’s loss. Yet, that’s a risk for him. Especially when these changes give Colin the courage to “negotiate” a better “deal.” He asks to, maybe, sleep in the bed more often, maybe once a week. They could have a day off, wake up, eat breakfast together, and play a duet on the piano. But he’s disrupted the power dynamic. He’s not the one who is supposed to make a request. Certainly not of Ray. “No.” “Once a month?” “No.” “Have a think.” “Colin, if you’re not happy…” “Oh, I’m happy. I’m happy. I could just be a little happier. That’s all.”

Ray is supposed to call all the shots. But Colin goes a little crazy. Demanding. Manic. Out of his mind with loss and grief. He starts challenging Ray. Being pushy. Rude. Banging on the piano and singing off-key. He revs up Ray’s motorcycle and takes off down the road.  Ray yells, “Hey!!!”

In the morning, Ray finds him sleeping with his head on the stone step. Ray tenderly touches his shoulder and says come on. He’s cooking breakfast. What’s this?” “Breakfast.” “I don’t understand.” I thought we could try your day off.” “I’ll pay for this later?” “No ...” (Yes.)

They have a lovely day off. Ray lets Colin choose everything. In fact, it’s the kind of day where you might even think: “YES. Love is the whole point.” They’re running, smiling, and even Ray looks happy. They wrestle on the grass, and then Ray kisses him, a real kiss, looking like he might cry.

And. Then. Ray is gone. Because when you can’t allow love, you have to run away. 

If You Can’t Allow Love 

Love is the point. Of everything. Colin’s right. Everyone needs love, even if it looks like you don’t. Even if you can’t allow it. And if you do. Briefly. For a day. You have to run.

Colin grieves. His dad drives him to Ray’s house. “Still nothing?” He goes to all the bikers’ gathering spots. Ray is nowhere to be found. Yes. Ray left everyone behind.

“Smile. Though your heart is aching. Smile, though your heart is breaking.” Finally, Colin moves on. He posts an online profile, looking for someone to fill the space. But this time, Colin won’t give up his entire self. He writes, “I require one day off. Otherwise, your wish is my command ...”

And, Colin meets Darren (Anthony Welsh). He bends down and ties Darren’s shoe. “Can you cook?” Will Colin stick to his new rule, that day off? Maybe not. He’ll likely sell himself out for whatever looks like love, submitting, again, for something. Anything. Hoping that this time, this man won’t run? Because. When you can’t control losing your mom. When you’re afraid, you could have been a more compliant son. Then, maybe, this time, if you’re really, really careful ...

And, Ray? What about Ray’s complete disappearance? Well. The biggest thing Ray needs is power over something inside him. His longing. Like Colin’s. And. Briefly. Fleetingly. Ray does want something. But. Ray can’t let himself care. Not that much. Not for long. So. He needs to dominate Colin because he recognizes something that exists, buried, way down, in himself. A vulnerability. A desire. A need to be loved. Connected. AND. None of that is allowed. Not for Ray. Never.