Much has been written and discussed, often sensationally, about Pillion since its world premiere in the Un Certain Regard section at the 2025 Cannes Film Festival, where it went on to win the Screenplay Prize and the Palm Dog for its canine performers. Tales of whips, chains, assless chaps, and piercings in places that most people wouldn't pierce grabbed the headlines, selling potential audiences on the physical shock value of a BDSM romance. It wasn't a surprising turn of events, as this very specific subgenre has largely been packaged and sold with a hint of taboo, almost as if audiences are being naughty by watching this and shouldn't make it known to their friends and families. The Fifty Shades of Grey films are the worst perpetrators of this, followed by the endless parodies that further cheapened the whole concept.

The biggest strength of Pillion is its refusal to use its BDSM elements as window dressing or sight gags. Granted, there are several instances shot and cut to incite laughter, such as Harry Melling and Alexander Skarsgård wrestling in skintight leotards without a bottom cover. But beneath all that humor lies a nuanced approach to this culture. Making his feature debut as both writer and director, Harry Lighton conducted research by spending time with Gay Bikers Motorcycle Club (GBMCC), the largest LGBT+ motorcycling club in the UK/Europe. Many of the members appear in the film, with no signs that their way of life has been sanded down for mainstream audiences or fetishized to grab attention. They are who they are, occupying the same space, going through the same ups and downs of life, and looking for the same amount of fulfillment as all human beings.

A "pillion" is the passenger's spot on a motorcycle, either seated right behind the driver or in a sidecar. Colin (Melling) always seems to be in the pillion of his own life. He's an introverted gay man, living in the suburbs of London with his parents and working as a parking attendant at a local mall. Dating isn't a game he's suited for, as he has a considerable inability for adventure and decisiveness.

After performing as part of his barbershop quartet at a pub, he notices a group of gay bikers. Each of the more muscular bikers has a skinnier biker on a leash next to them, almost like an owner with his dog. Colin's eyes widen with the realization of his desire. Opportunity quickly comes knocking as the impossibly tall and handsome Ray (Skarsgård) exercises his dominance, beckoning Colin into a relationship that grants power to the helplessness that has perpetually kept him alone.

Throughout its initial and opening thirds, Lighton takes a refreshingly unique approach to the romantic drama. As opposed to Babygirl, another A24 film about sexual power dynamics, there isn't a sense of danger or something to hide about Colin and Ray's relationship. Colin's parents are very supportive of his orientation, even trying to set him up on dates with other boys in town. This is a story of two men discovering aspects of themselves that they would never reveal to themselves. It just also happens to include tastefully graphic sex scenes that have rarely been depicted outside of underground cinema.

The middle portion is where the clichés start to pile up, as little differences spur arguments and character decisions that we've become numb to. To be fair to Lighton, the fact that he's placing his story within a different environment doesn't mean that he has to reinvent the wheel of cinematic storytelling. It's a similar plight that was unfairly burdened Bros a few years back, with its progression of gay representation in mainstream cinema being stalled because it was still just another romantic comedy. Even in their slight sameness, both Bros and Pillion are better than the majority of the competition, which is more than enough of a reason to applaud their existence.