With McQueen leading the way, “Small Axe” is made up of five diverse films (“Mangrove,” “Lovers Rock,” “Red, White and Blue,” “Alex Wheatle,” and “Education”) that center on the lives of West Indian immigrants in London from the 1960s to the 1980s. McQueen’s chronicling of the Black experience in London is exquisite, delicate, and resonant.
But most importantly, his crowning achievement throughout the anthology film happens to be the only romantic film in the series: “Lovers Rock.”
An Exhilarating Ode to Romance Full of Latent Sensual Tension
On paper, “Lovers Rock” shouldn’t even work as a potent romantic film: here’s a film running just over an hour, set in a house party for a woman’s (Ellis George’s Cynthia) birthday celebration—and nothing more. Except for a few subplots that end up largely unsolved, McQueen makes us focus on two people (Micheal Ward’s Franklyn and Amarah-Jae St. Aubyn’s Martha) who meet for the first time and give in to romance by daybreak.
And yet, it’s in that same simplicity that “Lovers Rock” shines. If anything, this is a celebration of finding that instant connection from the get-go: from shaking it off lest it’s born out of misconstrued intentions, to finally letting the guard down in utter acquiescence. Franklyn and Martha are relatable in the sense that both people know they’re looking for romance and ready to give in, but seem to be awkwardly unsure when they should.
This tension slowly builds up, culminating with the most integral part of the movie: after wishing Cynthia a happy birthday, the DJs start to play Janet Kay’s “Silly Games,” a scene I consider a standout among the many romantic films I’ve watched in recent years. By the time Kay’s vocals fade out, the partygoers sing another round of “Silly Games” a cappella, to keep the slow-dancing going on.
Apparently, everybody wanted to keep the fire burning; and as the audience, so did we. And for what it’s worth, there isn’t a higher praise I can think of.
An Almost-Spiritual Viewing Exercise that Celebrates Love
It’s no accident that McQueen named this film after the sub-genre of reggae, which eschews the sociopolitical content in favor of a smooth soul sound and romantic lyricism that evokes Philadelphia soul in particular. In a way, this is a perfect homage to Black joy; but like the genre itself, “Lovers Rock” focuses more on the indescribable passion and less on the human condition as a whole.
“Silly Games,” the song that plays in the middle of the film where Franklyn and Martha finally give in to the feeling, serves as the soundtrack of the movie’s mise en scène: here, the partygoers slow-dance by twos, featuring some of the most intimate, sensual slow dances ever put on-screen; they feel more spiritual than sexual. From the seductive looks and gentle breaths to the pelvic thrusts, McQueen’s direction here feels loose and casual. Featuring the partygoers losing themselves to the moment in time, the filmmaker ultimately allows us to partake on the dance floor and let ourselves get carried away too.
As the only film in the anthology to zero in on romance and nothing else, McQueen relishes celebrating love without overcomplicating things. And what we have as a result is an intimate viewing exercise that feels too private to watch, yet too precious to ignore.
A magnificent piece of cinema that encapsulates an ordinary night to remember, “Lovers Rock” is an acquired taste of a romantic film that demands not to be seen, but experienced. And with director Steve McQueen’s assured direction examining the exhilaration of the human emotions in sheer euphoria, we are witnesses to arguably the best romance film of 2020.
*You can watch “Small Axe” and “Lovers Rock” on Amazon Prime, via subscription.
