Queer
Queer
Luca Guadagnino is having an incredible year, with two highly acclaimed films that have once again cemented his status as one of the most exciting filmmakers working today. After the triumphant release of Challengers earlier this year, he returns with Queer, a complex and emotionally charged adaptation that further showcases his unique storytelling ability.
Queer is based on the unfinished novel by William S. Burroughs, a semi-autobiographical exploration of addiction, longing, and self-destruction. Daniel Craig stars as Lee, a stand-in for Burroughs himself, delivering a raw, vulnerable, and deeply moving performance. Lee is a writer living in Mexico, drowning in alcohol, battling addiction, and living a bohemian lifestyle among a circle of friends.
The film’s emotional core revolves around Lee’s obsession with Eugene (played by Drew Starkey), a younger man whose attention swings between moments of apparent affection and cruel indifference. At its heart, Queer is a meditation on addiction—whether to substances, art, or people. Starkey’s portrayal of Eugene is particularly striking, balancing confidence with a subtle vulnerability that keeps the audience guessing about his true intentions.
What makes Queer so compelling—and challenging—is its refusal to conform to conventional emotional arcs. The characters are often flawed and unlikable, yet Guadagnino’s direction invites you to root for their search for meaning and connection. The film’s final act, which extends beyond the scope of Burroughs’ unfinished novel, wavers slightly as it ventures into uncharted narrative territory. While it briefly lost me, the evocative imagery and emotional truth of the final moments pulled me back in, leaving a lasting impression.
Queer is not a straightforward or easy film, but it’s one that lingers in your mind long after the credits roll. Its imperfections echo the raw, unfinished nature of Burroughs’ original work, and Guadagnino’s ability to find beauty in that messiness is nothing short of masterful. I can’t wait to watch it again and dive even deeper into its complexities.
Queer is now in theatres including Film Steams & The Alamo Drafthouse.
All That Heaven Allows
Released on Christmas Day in 1955, All That Heaven Allows, directed by German immigrant and master of melodrama Douglas Sirk, is a breathtakingly intimate film that dazzles with its use of Technicolor. From the opening shots of vibrant autumn leaves in a picturesque New England town to the final scenes set in a serene winter wonderland, the film is a visual feast.
At its center is Carrie Scott, played with remarkable depth by Jane Wyman. Carrie is an affluent widow whose life revolves around her country club friends and her sporadically present college-aged children. When Ron Kirby, a young, ruggedly handsome gardener played by Rock Hudson, steps in to care for her trees, the two form a bond that soon evolves into a romance. Their relationship crosses rigid class divides, provoking the ire of Carrie’s judgmental friends and spoiled children.
The film is lush, beautiful, and infuriating—in the best possible way. Sirk’s ability to elevate melodrama into something profoundly moving and timeless is on full display. His masterful use of camera movement, lighting, and color creates a world that feels deeply intimate yet bursting with emotion. The imagery, particularly the use of winter and Christmas settings, enhances the film’s nostalgic and melancholic tone, mirroring Carrie’s feelings of isolation as she faces societal and familial rejection.
Sirk’s work deserves to stand alongside the cinematic greats of the 1940s and 1950s, such as David O. Selznick and Frank Capra. While the melodrama genre has often been dismissed in the wake of the American New Wave and today’s blockbusters, All That Heaven Allows transcends its genre. It tells a piercingly personal story, layered with a profound sense of longing and sadness that few filmmakers could achieve.
For me, All That Heaven Allows is a must-watch every Christmas season. It’s a film that feels timeless in its emotional depth and visual beauty. If you haven’t seen it yet, I highly recommend giving it a chance—you won’t regret it.
All That Heaven Allows is playing at Film Streams on December 14ths & 15th.
