Queer (2024) vs Queer by William S. Burroughs (short analysis)

Whether one loved or hated Queer (2024), it is a very bold film. I'd love to go more into depth about film vs book decisions, so here we go: I'll put all the references to interviews and analyses at the end of the entry, enjoy my refusal to let go of run-on sentences and tell me what you think! Also, all my references to book chapters are from the edition organised by Oliver Harris.

The first impression many people had coming out of the cinema was, "Okay, wow, but what did I just watch?" and I think that's quite fair. On first impact it's definitely not what we're used to seeing; it doesn't shy away from sex, which from what I've seen is a large reason for the dislike towards the movie, and the last chapter (Lost in the Jungle) takes the audience on a drug- induced trip along with Lee and Allerton. Without some time to let one's thoughts on it simmer, or maybe without reading the book, it can be confusing, and there are various parts (small things like the recurring appearance of the centipede or bigger things like the whole last act) that might seem to make little sense.

The movie grasps the tone of the book strikingly. The atmosphere is one of grime, of a bubble in which other expats immerse themselves (of which we get to see the predominantly gay community) while never really meeting the culture of the country they're in. In fact, the movie also captures how unpleasant Lee often is in this regard: he entirely rejects the position of a victimised gay man by wearing the values of a proud American like shiny jewellery, lounging in the power of the American dollar and rudely bargaining over prices, deriding effeminate gay men to the extent it's self-deprecating, and joking at the expense of Jewish and Mexican people (aspect which is, however, much more prevalent in the book). (*)

"CHAPTER 1: How Do You Like Mexico?" and "CHAPTER 2: Travel Companions" are gorgeously faithful to the book. I found the narration of the events themselves in the book to often be almost lacking in detail or imagery, only to then switch to descriptions of Lee's emotions or actions with the most human and gutting depth, for example the passage from chapter 2:

Lee tried to achieve a greeting at once friendly and casual, designed to show interest without pushing their short acquaintance. The result was ghastly. 

 As Lee stood aside to bow in his dignified old-world greeting, there emerged instead a leer of naked lust, wrenched in the pain and hate of his deprived body and, in simultaneous double exposure, a sweet child's smile of liking and trust, shockingly out of time and out of place, mutilated and hopeless.

Allerton was appalled. "Perhaps he has some sort of tic," he thought. He decided to remove himself from contact with Lee before the man did something even more distasteful. The effect was like a broken connection. Allerton was not cold or hostile; Lee simply wasn't there so far as he was concerned. Lee looked at him helplessly for a moment, then turned back to the bar, defeated and shaken.

And the scene in the film? Lee looks unsteady, hopes to be charming and practically humiliates himself, and Allerton looks put off and simply removes himself from the interaction. Lee then turns back to the bar and looks like he only just realised what transpired, while we get to see other patrons in the background taking pity on him the same way the audience does, though with a little more (or maybe less) derision.

Even more abstract moments, like Lee's "ectoplasmic fingers" reaching out to reverently caress Allerton while they talk or while they watch Cocteau's Orpheus, are perfectly pictured in the film, portraying the gentle but desperate longing perfectly.

A difference that can't be ignored is the handling of sex scenes in these first two acts. In the book, there are the same scenes leading up to intimacy as the movie, but they're all fade-to-black, save for one in which the only detail given is that Allerton is more responsive than usual. The choice to portray them quite explicitly on scene is certainly bold, and it's up to personal preference to consider them tasteful or not. In Daniel Craig's opinion, "It was important that the movie showed it, didn't shy away from the physical act of sex." (**) While it's perfectly understandable that not everybody is comfortable with more in-detail scenes of intimacy, I do think a large component of the discomfort for many people is that the couple in question is homosexual. In my opinion, the scenes are wonderfully in character, and portray the dynamics between Lee and Allerton perfectly; the reverence in the way Lee touches Allerton, the way he's willing to "debase" himself without hesitation — with this I refer mostly to the scene after the cinema, in Lee's house, in which he performs oral sex on Allerton: act which has historically been considered degrading, exacerbated both by the fact that Lee is much older, and by the fact that Allerton only returns it by using his hand, not even undressing Lee.

Through the evolution of these scenes, we are offered another lens through which we can see their relationship: the hesitance and subsequent desperation of their very first kiss, to the passage to something more contractual when Lee feels he has nothing to lose — because Lee is willing to have even just Allerton's body if he can't have his affection — to the confusing moment, same in the book and in the movie:

 "Do you mind that?" [Lee] asked. 

"Not terribly."

"But you do enjoy it sometimes? The whole deal, I mean."

"Oh, yes."

Both in reading and in watching, I was left wondering what Allerton's thoughts there were — especially because the very morning after, when Lee tries to make advances (which in the book are overtly sexual, while in the movie could even just be romantic) Allerton pushes him away and scolds him for asking for more than what they agreed on, and Lee dare I say meekly apologises.

Setting aside the intimacy, the choice to shift the movie away from the more political tone many passages of the book have most likely resides in Guadagnino's inclination to focus on love in the majority of his works. The story he tells centers entirely around what he defines as "unsynchronised love", a definition that stuck with me. In the book, Allerton is just as elusive as he is in the movie: 

"Fish is right," quipped Guidry. "Cold, slippery, and hard to catch."

Different moments in the movie and the book solidify it as unsynchronied as opposed to just unrequited love, and both of those signify the moment the readers/audience realise Allerton isn't just cold and uninterested, but incapable of connecting. "Allerton non sfugge a Lee, Allerton sfugge alla sua incapacita di abbandonarsi alla connessione con l'altro"; "Allerton doesn't run from Lee, Allerton runs from his inability to abandon himself to the connection with another." (***) In the book, this conclusion is reached through the narration, which is mostly in third person from Lee's point of view but occasionally jumps to information from other characters as well, mostly here with Allerton towards the end of chapter 2:

Lee sat down and ordered a drink, then turned to Allerton with a casual greeting, as though they were on familiar and friendly terms. Allerton returned the greeting automatically before he realized that Lee had somehow established himself on a familiar basis, whereas he had previously decided to have as little to do with Lee as possible. Allerton had a talent for ignoring people, but he was not competent at dislodging someone from a position already occupied. [...]

Had he ever met Lee? He could not be sure. Formal introductions were not expected among the G.I. students. Was Lee a student? Allerton had never seen him at the school. There was nothing unusual in talking to someone you didn't know, but Lee put Allerton on guard. The man was somehow familiar to him. When Lee talked, he seemed to mean more than what he said. A special emphasis to a word or a greeting hinted at a period of familiarity in some other time and place. As though Lee were saying, "You know what I mean. You remember." [...]

But he felt at times oppressed by Lee, as though Lee's presence shut off everything else. He thought he was seeing too much of Lee. 

 Allerton disliked commitments, and had never been in love or had a close friend. He was now forced to ask himself: "What does he want from me?" It did not occur to him that Lee was queer, as he associated queerness with at least some degree of overt effeminacy. He decided finally that Lee valued him as an audience. 

Here our Allerton is detached, but his detachment isn't malicious, rather it appears to stem from a total lack of comprehension and familiarity with himself and relationships.

In the movie, this moment is in the conversation with Cotter after their experience with the yage, in "CHAPTER 3: Lost in the Jungle", in which she says they have a remarkable connection. She tells Allerton that now that he's opened this door, he cannot close it, at most he can turn away. This can be read both in the lens of the use of the drug, and more in context, of their queerness, the soul-deep connection they formed. But again, their love is unsynchronised, they weren't ready for such a frighteningly intense connection, in which the "telepathy" given by the yage was every bit the double-edged it was warned to be, leading to the consequence of Allerton suddenly disappearing, afraid to take that step further and preferring to ignore that open door.

Throughout "Travel Companions", Lee's withdrawals are expanded on more than they are in the book. While in the book the passage from them being in bed to being at the doctor's is only a few lines, in the movie the time is taken for the audience to see Lee relying on Allerton, leaning on him, using him as support, only wedging that crack of vulnerability that tears Lee's character apart deeper. The moment in which Lee asks Allerton to let him stay in bed with him during the night is the same, and Guadagnino said that moment in which Allerton put his leg over Lee's was fundamental for him. In the book, Lee states he stayed perfectly still in the effort to keep Allerton from moving away. In the movie, the camera shifts our focus along with Lee's to their overlapping legs, letting the moment linger. In both, the yearning is tangible.

The most obvious difference between book and movie is the end, as the entirety of "Lost in the Jungle" becomes a hypothetical that separates from the book: "If you think of the book as kind of opening a door and then quickly closing it, we said Well what if we went through the door and saw what was on the other side? and that was the end of our movie." In the book, when Lee and Allerton reach Cotter, he is hostile, and mostly avoids Lee's insistence: he is a brujo, knows secrets Lee does not have access to, and shows relief when the two men give up and leave. In the movie, the hostility Cotter puts on is an act, and she is a character full of humanity who acts like a Virgil for them, a guide, once she sees their bond. She encourages them not to run away, that she's never seen two people so connected after only one stint with the yage.(****)

The dance itself, the melding of two into one person, the line, "I'm not queer, I'm disembodied"; they all honour everything that might have happened in the book had they not failed. The abruptness of the start of the yage's effects is almost disturbing, but the imagery the entire portion follows is homogenous with recurring themes in the book. In the book, Lee frequently seems to lack an existence of his own, and instead see through the lens of other people's bodies, like the boys in Ecuador in chapter 8 and even Allerton himself in the cinema, in chapter 3. Obviously the continuity in the dance is more in his wish to be one with Allerton, to feel what he feels in every way— and in the book, even to be able to control him entirely in the hope for love. The yage allows them to feel each other, maybe more than they ever wanted to, since it leaves both of them reeling.

Even the more gruesome imagery, like them throwing up what appear to be their pulsing hearts — perhaps just the next step in wearing one's heart on one's sleeve, or even handing it over; relinquishing control over it entirely — seems fitting given the frequent descriptions of Lee's physical pain when the moments of connection with Lee are severed:

In any relation of love or friendship Lee attempted to establish contact on the non-verbal level of intuition, a silent exchange of thought and feeling. Now Allerton had abruptly shut off contact, and Lee felt a physical pain as though a part of himself tentatively stretched out towards the other had been severed, and he was looking at the bleeding stump in shock and disbelief. [...]

"[...]If I had my way we'd sleep every night all wrapped around each other like hibernating rattlesnakes." 

The "EPILOGUE: Two Years Later" act is similar in its first portion, and different but fitting in the second. The first part, in which a downtrodden, tries Lee visiting all his old places and looking for all his old friends, finding it all almost desolate and very lonely, is very similar. The difference is in the very last part; Lee falls asleep and has a dream in which he sees himself looking into a miniature version of his hotel. Judgement, perhaps, upon his actions? Lee himself is far from the pinnacle of self-acceptance, and the way we see him staring down at this little version of himself could be his own judgement or that of society. In the dream he then finds Allerton, putting a glass on his head to shoot (a game of William Tell). Lee shoots Allerton in the head; as he cradles the body, everything in the room starts to vanish, including Allerton’s body, and then Lee himself. The scene cuts to an elderly Lee, still living alone but hearing Allerton’s voice speaking to him. He lies down in bed and imagines the younger Allerton holding him, scene in which the film closes, presumably to Lee dying alone.

One incredibly important thing to note is that the entirety of Queer (the book), in Burroughs' intention revolves around the never-mentioned event of his wife's death: Burroughs was a gay man and pursued homosexual relationships (in fact Lee himself is an alter ego, and the events with Allerton retrace those with a young lover), but always spoke of his wife, Joan Vollmer, in glowing terms, and they considered each other soulmates. In 1951, a game of William Tell which was meant to show off Burroughs' marksmanship (and new pistol) resulted in Joan's death. Guadagnino chooses to shed a little light on this event, that in the book according to Burroughs is tiptoed around, but in fact is never even hinted at, through Lee's cryptic dreams.

In the book, the ending is bleak and abrupt, to the point the book is considered incomplete; Lee returns to Mexico City, visits his old haunts, tries to find his old friends, and asks around for Allerton. He's informed Allerton left, and the book closes with Lee talking to Allerton in a dream with one of his usual routines, asking where Allerton's been.

Many moments throughout the movie show a dazzling attention to detail; the scene in which Allerton is introduced is during a street fight between roosters, the "cockfights" Burroughs mentions in the 1985 introduction of the book. The centipede in various points of the movie in which Lee "exceeds limits" morally is another detail: in the book, during his trip in Ecuador, Lee runs into Chimu pottery depicting scenes of explicit homosexual sex, and wonders:

What happens when there is no limit? What is the fate of The Land Where Anything Goes? Men changing into huge centipedes . . . centipedes besieging the houses ... a man tied to a couch and a centipede ten feet long rearing up over him. Is this literal? Did some hideous metamorphosis occur? What is the meaning of the centipede symbol?

Guadagnino captured the soul of the book in a rare way, treating an incredibly vulnerable story with just gentleness and breathing life into characters and scenes as though the book itself had come alive, while still maintaining his usual lens of discussion of unconventional love. The changes made are significant but thoughtfully chosen and, in my opinion, wonderfully handled. 

(*) Harris, Introduction of "Queer", section "Imperious Desires"

(**) Daniel Craig, Jake's Takes interview with Jake Hamilton

(***) Guadagnino, Venezia 81 interview, SkyTg24

(****) Guadagnino, New York Film Festival 62 interview with Dennis Lim

P.S. Oliver Harris please marry me thank you sorry goodbye