Luca Guadagnino’s ravishing, sumptuous adaptation of Queer, William S. Burroughs’ sweltering self-portrait—first written in the early 1950s and later published in 1985—plunges us into the dreamy, drug-addled mind of its protagonist, Lee (Daniel Craig as he’s never been seen), who struggles to process the elation of being in love. From the surreal editing to the anachronistic needle drops (Nirvana’s “Come as You Are” plays over a 1940s-set Mexico City), Queer finds Guadagnino at his most playful and erratic.

With strokes both grand and intimate, Guadagnino paints an experience that feels as overwhelming and kaleidoscopic as the romance it follows, rife with frames that practically swoon along with the characters. It’s an effect that seeps into some of the most graphic gay sex scenes committed to mainstream cinema, bustling with a scintillating sense of warmth, beauty, and honesty. Guadagnino’s film is so mesmeric that it becomes instinctual to fall under its sultry spell. We seamlessly tap into Lee’s frequency, made to crackle and disembody from ourselves at the sight of each layered frame, much like Lee does when he shares the company of his romantic obsession, Allerton (Drew Starkey).

Penned by Challengers’ Justin Kurtzikes, Queer takes us from the ethereal streets of mid-century Mexico City to the beguiling rainforests of Ecuador while maintaining a strong sense of placelessness. Guadagnino’s decision to recreate these stunning locales in Rome’s Cinecittà studios renders them part of a lucid mindscape. Something so rich in scope and texture that it could only be conjured from the mind of a lovelorn junkie recollecting the memory of a dream. Guadagnino imagines a city lost to time and mind with loving detail, as a vivid and lush cinematic cousin to the work of Alex Coville or Edward Hopper.

As we enter the film’s wonderfully surreal, bizarre final act, it practically burns a hole through the frame, leaving what remains dripping with sweat, whimsy, and longing. Armed with a sumptuous score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, Queer makes a strong case that love, not dope, is the most difficult addiction to curb. 

Queer is now streaming on MUBI