Mates (2023) is a low-budget British queer drama that unfolds slowly but meaningfully. Directed by Arno Crous, the film is set mostly on a countryside hiking trip, where four young men share more than just a trail—beneath the surface, there's emotional turbulence, unspoken desire, and fragile masculinity quietly simmering.
The story follows Connor, a gay man spending the weekend hiking with his longtime straight mates—Nathan, Mark, and Adam. When Adam, the most openly flirtatious of the group, begins to pay attention to Connor in a suggestive, ambiguous way, tensions begin to stir—not only between Connor and Adam, but within the entire group dynamic. Jealousies rise, long-held assumptions are tested, and a weekend that should be easygoing begins to unravel.
What sets Mates apart is its subtle, dialogue-heavy approach. It doesn’t rely on dramatic events or loud confrontations; instead, the tension is found in pauses, glances, awkward silences, and moments of emotional discomfort. The film explores that uneasy space where friendship and attraction blur, particularly in all-male groups where emotional honesty is rare.
The performances are understated, yet effective. James Wiles, as Connor, gives a thoughtful portrayal of a man who isn’t trying to seduce his friends, but also isn’t hiding who he is. The character of Nathan, in particular, stands out—not for any grand gestures, but for the unresolved emotional confusion he represents. There’s something possibly repressed, or perhaps just possessive, in his behavior toward Connor, and the film lets that ambiguity linger.
The cinematography embraces natural light and the quiet beauty of the English countryside. The scenic setting contrasts well with the interpersonal tension among the characters. Much like a hike, the film takes its time to build—meandering in places, but ultimately leading to emotional revelations, however small.
That said, Mates may not appeal to all audiences. Its pacing is slow, and some viewers may find the emotional stakes too muted or the character development too subtle. But for those attuned to nuance and queer subtext, there’s plenty to reflect on.
In an imagined sequel set a year later, Connor has since moved to London, now openly part of a queer community. He’s more confident, more grounded—but still carrying unresolved feelings about what happened on that hiking trip.
When Nathan invites the group for another reunion hike—this time with Connor bringing along his new partner—the dynamics shift dramatically. Old tensions surface. Adam is now distant. Mark’s casual jokes no longer feel harmless. And Nathan? He's quieter, but perhaps more honest.
Mates: The Return could deepen the emotional arcs started in the first film. Rather than focus on seduction or attraction, it would explore how friendships evolve after boundaries are tested, and whether intimacy—of any kind—can survive the weight of what was left unsaid.
Mates is a small, introspective film that captures a very specific kind of emotional experience: the quiet discomfort of being queer among straight male friends, and the confusion that can arise when attraction, insecurity, and denial intersect. It doesn’t offer easy answers, but it asks important questions—with restraint, honesty, and emotional intelligence.
