
Passion starts off with a warning about the real blood and violence you’re about to see. But it should also warn that your views are to be turned upside down as you watch this brave, lyrical and aesthetic journey into the worlds of BDSM and Christianity, connected through rituals, mysticism and judgment.
Maja Borg’s personal and philosophical exploration, divided into three chapters, is as much about soul searching as it as about body searching. Already in the first scenes she tells, while the screen remains black, about how S&M is part of her sexuality, followed by a poetic analysis of her previous, violent relationship, which left her traumatised. Then a fast edit of scenes, in black and white, of bondage, fire, candles and a religious procession – an introduction to what we are about to see and experience.
Borg is not only exploring the world of BDSM (Bondage & Discipline, Dominance & Submission and Sadism & Masochism). She is also trying to rediscover her ties with the Catholic Church, finding many similarities between both two worlds en route. A female priest talks to Borg about how everyone is ‘sent out into the world with longing for wholeness’. Her explanation continues over a carefully choreographed scene of two men, one dressed in white, the other in black, starting their own rituals in which they’re trying to find that wholeness. The younger, submissive one describes in voice-over how the sound of a padlock makes him lose control and brings him closer to this ‘black hole’ into which he can let himself fall.
Borg beautifully ties and mixes several stories from queer people practicing BDSM. All of the stories are about so much more than sex: it is about vulnerability, self-discovery, love, acceptance, and healing. About being able to shine light on the darkest places in your soul and embrace them in order to move on. The film starts off in monochrome but colour is added as we understand more about the nuances of this sub-culture, which is often considered an aberration.
All of the characters are given ample space to tell their stories, and all of their words are framed with tastefully shot scenes; you see either the person talking, in a carefully chosen setting, the camera catching all the subtle emotional changes, or you hear them in voice-over while you see them in action – playing out their chosen roles. Borg creates an atmosphere of intimacy and trust, in which everyone feels free to let down their guard and show everything.
Even looking at the making of a pornographic scene, directed by another female filmmaker, doesn’t feel like voyeurism. Borg is also present at the preparations, when actors and filmmaker are joking about the ‘action scenes’ and one of the characters nonchalantly agrees to fisting. The actual filming of the deed is observed with a close eye on the other director. As the protagonist is working towards a climax, you can read the excitement and anticipation from the filmmaker’s posture. It is both sensual and emotional, never vulgar or sensational.
Borg also carefully captures her own development, as she’s trying to make the transition from submissive to dominant. A transition marked by a ritual, very similar to the ones customary in the church. She’s not afraid to show all aspects of herself, both physically and mentally. She stares straight into the camera, while she’s being whipped, which makes you both uncomfortable and envious of the courage needed for such complete surrender.
Sweden/Spain, 2021, 92 mins
Writer/director Maja Borg
Producers Stina Gardell, Andrea H. Catalá, Almudena Monzú, Maja Borg
Production Mantaray Film (Sweden), Amor y Lujo (Spain)
Editor Charlotte Landelius
Cinematography Patriez van der Wens, Mara González Otero, Angello Faccini
Sound Design Jan Alvermark
Composer Katharina Nutall
Support of ICEC (Catalan Institute for the Cultural Companies), MEDIA Development, The Swedish Arts Grants Committee, The Swedish Film Institute Norrköping Filmfond










