LOVER’S ROCK: FILM REVIEW
Watching Steve McQueen’s Lover’s Rock during lockdown unlocks a particular craving — a want to be light on your feet again, dancing to music in a slightly stuffy room with strangers who enjoy each other’s company. The majority of the film’s brief 68-minute run-time is set in a 1980s reggae house party in West London and highlights the story of two budding lovers, as well as the underlying spits and tensions that underpin the night throughout the film.
Lover’s Rock, the second of McQueen’s Small Axe series, chronicles a cozy and lively house party from start to finish. The film opens with scenes of men moving furniture out of the house, clearing up space for the dance floor. Four women harmonize notes from Janet Kay’s “Silly Games” in the kitchen while preparing food for the party. Although tens of guests attend the party, the film homes in on two partygoers in particular: Martha (Amarah-Jae St. Aubyn) and her best friend Patti (Shaniqua Okwok). We are first introduced to Martha as she throws her heels out of her window and jumps carelessly to the ground below. She meets Patti at the park, and they excitedly gas up each other’s outfits before sprinting to catch the bus to the party. As soon as the two arrive, they hop onto the dance floor with the other guests; the girls wear vibrant red dresses and heels; the boys are pressed against the wall with joints between their lips as they contemplate which girl they want to ask to dance. And man, can they dance.
Throughout the night, vinyl records are replaced and moved effortlessly between each other. One sequence might be tracked by an a cappella version of Janet Kay’s “Silly Games,” and followed by Carl Douglas’ “Kung Fu Fighting” (the whole room erupts into kung-fu style moves as soon as this classic comes on). Much of the music is of the style lovers rock, which is often described as “romantic reggae,” and was popularized by Caribbean immigrants in England in the mid-70s.
Less than halfway into the party, Martha and Patti are teased by two men, Reggie (Francis Lovehall) and Franklyn (Michael Ward). While Reggie doesn’t entirely know the line between poking fun and flirting, Franklyn is an expert at paying compliments to the girls and saves both of their asses. Martha is eventually the one who catches Franklyn’s attention, causing Patti to leave the party early out of frustration. There’s nothing glamorous about feeling like the side chick, and it’s too late before Martha realizes Patti has left. While initially she tries to go after her, Franklyn’s smooth persuasion leads Martha to stay — and really, can we blame her?
However, no party, even one as magnificent as this, is perfect, and Lover’s Rock doesn’t let you forget its unpleasantries either. These souring moments are reminders of the West London society in the 1980s. Martha steps outside for some fresh air, and as soon as she starts walking down the street, a group of white boys verbally harass her. Later on, she ventures outside again and is met with an unwanted sexual encounter. The party’s warm interior has always felt safer than the outside world.
The intimacy of Lover’s Rock draws from the film’s cinematic details: the camera pans through a sequence of hands placed around waists, wrapped around necks, or yearning for the touch of another. Intentional glances across the room are subtly captured, as they cut through moving partners and obstacles that stand in between. The dance sequences, although choreographed, move with a free-formed swing of the hips and an easy smile. Cinematographer Shabier Kirchner takes the viewer on a swing swiftly through the room, in between and around partners, groups of girls, and secret lovers.
Lover’s Rock is as much about the joyous communion of Black people in the West London community as it is the sweet and budding love between Franklyn and Martha. Kirchner’s expert cinematography inserts the viewer into an intimate party we all want to be invited to. Lover’s Rock, whose title undoubtedly pays tribute to the music genre of the same name, also feels like a literal translation of the film’s driving storyline and the sentimental feelings between its two central characters.