The influence of Jean Cocteau on Luca Guadagnino’s ‘Queer’

(Credits: Far Out / A24)

The work of Luca Guadagnino has always been ripe with references to the work of filmmakers; from the lush and vivid scenery of James Ivory to the naturalistic dream-scape of Federico Fellini, the director pays homage to the work that inspires him. However, the director doesn’t directly reference other films, preferring to subtly embed it within his visual style, never showing his characters watching television and sneaking in a scene from Rome Open City. But, interestingly enough, Guadagnino decided to do this in his latest film Queer, inserting a scene from Orpheus.

Queer, starring Daniel Craig and Drew Starkey, follows a lonely American expat living in Mexico City, finding the monotony of his everyday life disturbed by the presence of a younger man, attempting to form a relationship with him. We then watch William (played by Craig) grow increasingly desperate as he tries to win the affection of Eugene, becoming a feverish meditation on infatuation and queer loneliness, with William being treated as ‘other’ for his sexuality.  

It’s a devastating and deeply uncomfortable watch, feeling intensely sad for William and the way he pines for the simplest moments of physical intimacy, dreaming about someone lightly touching his arm or tracing a finger over his ribcage, and as he dreams about reciprocated intimacy and human connection, the line between his waking life and fantasies start to blend, leading us to doubt his sanity entirely. Guadagnino not only achieves this through the use of surrealist dream sequences and a jarring visual style but also through the inclusion of one scene from Orpheus that strangely mirrors the themes of the film. 

Orpheus, directed by Jean Cocteau in 1950, follows a poet who falls in love with death and follows him into the underworld. The director was known for his poems, novels, and films, which pushed the creative boundaries of the time and revolutionized the art form. Orpheus, in particular, is completely breathtaking; it is a surrealist classic that challenges the medium’s limitations, with ethereal yet sinister sequences as the main character journeys between the human and non-human world. It’s mesmerising to watch even now, with Orphée moving through mirrors and drifting through the barren landscape of the underworld, feeling more like a dream than a film. 

And perhaps it was for this reason that Guadagnino included a direct reference to a titular scene from the film Queer, referencing the moment as Orphée enters the underworld for the first time, with his arms outstretched as he walks through the liquid-like mirror that acts as a gateway to hell.  

Guadagnino uses this scene before both men go on holiday together, with William metaphorically ‘entering the underworld’ and unable to go back after fully committing to his obsession with Eugene. Much like Orphée’s relationship to death, William’s infatuation with Eugene is also an addiction, consumed by the idea that this relationship will allow him to transcend life itself, not realizing that it sinks him lower into an underworld of despair and desperation as he grasps for any kind of lifeline to give him a sense of fulfilment in his waking life. 

Similarly to Orphée, he becomes lost in a world that isn’t truly real, and the more he convinces himself that he needs this love, the more he loses himself. He relinquishes any control over himself and gives his entire being to an unknown force, merging the line between life and death as reality begins to blur with his dreams. After some time, we aren’t sure if any of the interactions between William and Eugene are even real, and the idea that he imagined him becomes more and more likely.  

Queer is a jarring and painfully sad exploration of queer loneliness and delusion, and the reference to Orpheus only points towards the idea that perhaps, none of William’s life is real, and his desires are only fleeting dreams that sink him deeper into the metaphorical underworld.

Related Topics