Timothy Beauchamp

William S. Burroughs’ Queer hit me differently than I expected. I’ve seen Naked Lunch—that fever dream of typewriters turning into bugs and surreal horror—bt it wasn’t until halfway through Queer that I started seeing the patterns. Burroughs has rhythms and fingerprints in his writing that connect these works. One thing I’m good at spotting is patterns. Queer feels more linear at first, unlike the chaos of Naked Lunch, but it doesn’t take long before time starts folding in on itself. The director really nailed it with music and subtle cues to show the non-linear nature of time—like a memory or a trip coming back in pieces. Then there’s Burroughs’ Mugwumps—smooth-skinned, reptilian parasites who feed off addiction and dependency. They’re haunting, symbolic of how addiction, power, and systems of control strip you bare. It reminded me of his yagé (ayahuasca) experiments, and I couldn’t help but think of Christopher Langan’s Cognitive-Theoretic Model of the Universe—the idea of a conscious, self-reflexive universe operating on frequencies. Burroughs was always searching for meaning beyond the surface, and as someone who’s had my own ayahuasca-like experiences, I get it. That deeper, hidden structure of everything feels just out of reach. But Queer doesn’t need the grotesque. It’s quieter, more intimate—a painful look at longing, rejection, und the alienation of queerness. It’s what queers feel our entire lives. Welcome to our world. It’s as if Burroughs put himself under a microscope, flaws and all. And honestly, whenever I read or watch Burroughs, it feels like a lover has draped his arms around me and is whispering in my ear. As a fellow writer and poet, especially one who’s also searched in those cracks of the world for answers, I feel like we’re looking in the same places. It was too esoteric for Charlie but it was definitely within my wide circle of experience. I get him. I get William S. Burroughs. If your queer? Go see Queer. Let Burroughs dance with you as a lover and tell you who you are. Oh, and loved the music. Nirvana, especially, was a nice touch. A oerfect homage to genius, Curt Cobain. The door is open. Don’t look away.

At first, I didn't get how artistic the movie is. It sneaks up on the viewer then you don't want to leave it. It isn't, by any means, realistic but it really pulls the emotions as if they've been stolen or grifted by the actors performances. The movie leaves you robbed of everything but glorious satisfaction and glad for the experience.