Three Queer Films About Crime, Secrets, and Desire

When desire becomes dangerous

Crime and queerness have a long shared history on screen. Not because queer people are criminals. But because both involve hiding, longing, and breaking rules. This week: three films where that overlap produces something electric. One classic, one rediscovered gem, one recent release. All very different in tone and origin. All worth your time.

Looking for more queer cinema? Check out our earlier round-up Three Queer Films About Memory, Distance, and Longing and our list of 7 Queer Films at Cannes 2026 That Deserve Your Attention.

The films

Bound (1996) — Lilly and Lana Wachowski

Corky is an ex-convict working as a handywoman. She meets Violet, the girlfriend of a mobster. They fall into each other immediately. Together they hatch a plan to steal two million dollars from the mob. What could go wrong?

Bound is a tight, stylish neo-noir. The Wachowski sisters made it before The Matrix. You can feel the confidence already. The cinematography by Bill Pope is all shadow and geometry. Every frame looks like it was designed to create tension. Jennifer Tilly and Gina Gershon are superb together. Their chemistry is never played for spectacle. It feels real and dangerous.

What makes Bound stand out is its refusal to punish its protagonists. In 1996, that was genuinely rare. The film treats its lesbian relationship as the engine of the plot, not as its problem. Thirty years later, it still holds up. Smartly constructed, wickedly entertaining.

For who: Fans of classic Hollywood noir who want something sharper and less predictable.

Where to watch: Available to rent or buy on Apple TV, Rakuten and Google Play.

The Assassin (2015) — Hou Hsiao-hsien

Tang dynasty China. A female assassin named Yinniang is sent to kill a governor. He is a man she once loved. She hesitates. What follows is less a thriller and more a meditation on duty, loyalty, and impossible choices.

This is a slow film. That is not a warning — it is a description. Hou Hsiao-hsien (Millennium Mambo, Flowers of Shanghai) shoots in long, static takes. He lets silence do the work. The queerness here is subtle: Yinniang's world is entirely shaped by women. Her missions come from women. Her loyalties are to women. Her grief is about a woman.

Shu Qi carries the film almost without words. Her face does everything. The costumes and landscapes are stunning. This won Best Director at Cannes 2015, and deservedly so. It is not an easy watch. It rewards patience with something genuinely rare.

For who: Viewers who love arthouse cinema and are willing to meet a film on its own terms.

Where to watch: Streaming on MUBI in several countries. Also available to rent on Vimeo on Demand.

La Chimera (2023) — Alice Rohrwacher

Arthur is a British archaeologist living in rural Italy. He has a gift: he can sense where ancient Etruscan tombs are buried. He works with a group of illegal grave robbers called tombaroli. He is also grieving a woman named Beniamina. Her absence haunts everything.

This is not a straightforward crime film. Alice Rohrwacher (Happy as Lazzaro) makes films that feel like waking dreams. La Chimera drifts between past and present, between myth and reality. The queerness is woven into the fabric of the story rather than announced. Arthur is a man out of place in every sense. His desire — for Beniamina, for a world that no longer exists — shapes every scene.

Josh O'Connor is remarkable in the lead role. He plays Arthur as someone trapped between worlds. Carol Duarte, as Flora, brings warmth and specificity to what could have been a secondary role. Rohrwacher shoots on film, mixing different formats. The result feels tactile, like memory itself.

Note: The film's emotional centre — Arthur's grief and its origins — becomes clearer in the second half. No spoilers here, but go in knowing it deepens considerably.

For who: Anyone who responded to Aftersun or All of Us Strangers. Also a good entry point for Rohrwacher's work.

Where to watch: Streaming on MUBI. Available to rent on Apple TV and Amazon Prime Video.

What these three share

None of these films are primarily about identity. That is part of what makes them interesting. Queerness is present — in the gaze, in the relationships, in what is left unsaid — but it is not the subject of a lesson. These are films about stealing, about longing, about what happens when desire collides with consequence.

Bound is the most immediately pleasurable. The Assassin is the most demanding. La Chimera sits somewhere between the two: accessible but strange, warm but melancholy. Together they show how wide the range of queer cinema actually is. Not a genre, but a way of seeing.