Bones and All is, in some ways, reminiscent of the beloved childhood classic Where The Wild Things Are. At the heart of both stories is a yearning for love, mingled in with the strange and all-consuming (pun intended) desire to wholly possess the object of said love.
This entanglement between violence and desire predates Luca Guadagnino's cannibal movie and is a theme likely to be explored plenty more in future. Guadagnino's Bones and All has a few unique elements at play, however, that will likely lead to its place amongst the pivotal works exploring intimacy.
The story is centred on two young lovers, Maren (Taylor Russell) and Lee (Timothée Chalamet) who embark on a 3,000-mile journey through the backroads of America. Running away from their pasts, it doesn't really matter how far they drive; the pair always come back to where they started (metaphorically and literally) and put their love to the test.
Both Chalamet and Russell give extraordinary performances, imbuing their characters with just enough empathetic qualities that we forgive their desire for human flesh. This mysterious manifestation, a need to eat your fellow human beings, drives the plot as much as the literal events of their lives do.
Cannibalism, though it is never referred to it by that name, is accepted in a strange way by those afflicted with this type of hunger. Set against Reagan's America, this insatiability that compels Lee and Maren at all costs feels inextricably linked to the politics of the time — in a way that mirrors our own current state of financial instability and desperate cost of living crises.
But Bones and All isn't a movie about politics or cannibalism, it's about love and the things we do to get it, to keep it; the ways we protect each other or make each other vulnerable. This messy bind keeps us invested in Lee and Maren, waiting to see what the breaking point will be.
Rounding out the cast is the year's creepiest performance by Mark Rylance as Sully, a fellow 'eater' who helps Maren get started on her journey. Chloe Sevigny also has a brief but impactful cameo, though we won't give more away than that.
There is a youthful naivety that keeps Bones and All moving relentlessly forward, though your patience may be stretched thin at times. If you can let go and allow yourself to be absorbed in the visual and aural beauty of the film, the just-over-two-hour runtime is manageable.
It is the kind of film that works best if you go in not knowing anything at all, which is why we're reticent to say any more. But it's also the kind of film that, to quote Harry Styles, feels like a movie.
Cinematographer Arseni Khachaturan captures the alternating bleak and lush landscapes of the American countryside with a staggering closeness that somehow makes you all the more aware of the sheer vastness of the country.
It brings to mind the oft-quoted Tolkien line 'not all who wander are lost', imbuing the entire movie-watching experience with the seemingly oxymoronic longing for space and intimacy, all in a country with an almost boundless terrain.
Bones and All works best because of its commitment to the heart of its story, the relationship between two young people at the margins of society, abandoned by the support networks that should have looked after them as they attempt to forge not just a living but a life. If that isn't something we can all relate to, we don't know what is.
Bones and All is now out in cinemas.
