They were here for one reason and one reason only—James Bond being gay! What a thrill, right? I laughed to myself. They had no idea what was coming.

I love movies. I’ve been a huge fan of Luca’s work for years, and of course, I had a rough idea of what Queer was about. But I had avoided spoilers. I wanted to experience it completely.

And the film?

Brilliant.

Yes, the scenes were steamy, and yes, both actors were stunning—especially Daniel Craig, whose portrayal of a drunk, self-destructive, addicted man fit him like a glove. But beyond the surface, the cinematography and direction were flawless.

That one scene in the jungle between Lee and Allerton? Oh my god.

The entire film felt like a painting where the background—the 1950s world—was intentionally blurred, like an amateur artist’s work, while these two men stood sharply at the front, performing something raw and aching. The hugs, the closeness, the passion—these are things I feel deeply but can never quite put into words.

And the ending?

The ouroboros, the snake eating its own tail. His older self, curling up in bed, embracing the only person he ever truly cared for—if only telepathically.

Of course, I telepathically hug and cuddle someone every night before I sleep. Doesn’t everyone? Maybe not! But I don’t have actual telepathic powers, and I want that in reality. I wish I had mastered the art of disappearing into the stars, meeting the botanist in the jungle, and in the flicker of a second, traveling light-years away just to physically hold my person.

The film was a masterpiece—at least, to me.

The credits rolled.