If “Barbie” (and Cormac McCarthy) taught us anything, it’s that few symbols herald straight hypermasculinity quite like horses do. Perhaps that’s why queer cowboy stories have endured in Hollywood — one way to make a love story interesting, after all, is by making it subversive or forbidden. Luke Gilford’s “National Anthem” sits within that tradition of films. But it also doesn’t.
It’s true that 21-year-old Dylan (a phenomenal Charlie Plummer) has not been raised in an environment that celebrates or is even open to his sexuality. As a poor construction worker in the American Southwest and father figure to his younger brother, Dylan mostly stays quiet and keeps his head down when his mother (Robyn Lively) and co-workers scoff in disgust or make jokes about him being gay.
Although “National Anthem” is indeed a story about star-crossed lovers, it is also, more importantly, a coming-of-age exploration of what it means for a person to find community and a place to belong. It also poignantly asks how much autonomy we have in that pursuit.
In it, Dylan is pressured by his mom to take on more work in order to support their cash-strapped family. He happens to find it at a ranch unlike anything he’s ever seen — a queer community of rodeo performers living together in what seems like an idyllic oasis free from the repressive constraints of the outside world. Almost nothing is said about each person’s sexuality or gender identity — it doesn’t need to be in a place like this, where fluidity and a rejection of norms is assumed.
Dylan, perhaps for the first time, begins to consider what his own gender performance could look like if he were not inhibited by society’s expectations. The young construction worker is captivated by everyone’s strong sense of identity and the camaraderie that exists within the nameless group. He almost immediately sparks a romance with the enigmatic and free-spirited Sky (Eve Lindley), but their relationship is complicated by Sky’s existing open partnership with Pepe, the group’s leader.
Cinematographer Katelin Arizmendi artfully cultivates a sense of wonder and awe at the landscape that’s almost its own character in the story. She also gives the film an inkling of surrealism, which heightens Dylan’s dreamlike stupor as he is swept up in this intoxicating romance. When Dylan goes to his first rodeo with the group, a montage of majestic scenes that scream America — reminiscent of a Budweiser commercial — floods his gaze. But peppered in with the shots of bulls, horses, and rugged landscapes are sights of queer romance, pride flags, and drag queens touching up their makeup.
Although he finds a newfound freedom and acceptance here, the strain on his relationship with Sky forces Dylan to grapple with where he belongs — is it within the community or with his younger brother and struggling alcoholic mother? Dylan’s family backstory is frustratingly under-developed, often relied on as a crutch to show that his life is difficult but never expounded upon or resolved in a satisfactory way. His absent father is referenced throughout, but it is unclear what impact, if any, this absence was meant to have had on him.
Gilford, the son of a rodeo rider from Colorado, has a deep personal connection to his feature directorial debut. He had for much of his life an ambivalent relationship to his cowboy roots — until he found the International Gay Rodeo Association. As both a participant and a researcher who conducted interviews and took photographs, Gilford observed that this was a way for members of the LGBTQ+ community to reclaim the idea of patriotism in a place where they traditionally are not welcome. “National Anthem,” Gilford’s 2020 book of photography of the same name, documents scenes from these queer rodeos.
More than anything, Gilford’s film ought to be lauded for the way it continues telling a story about a subculture that few know exist. “National Anthem,” an LD Entertainment release in theaters Friday, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for sexual content, graphic nudity, language, and some drug use. Running time: 99 minutes. Two and a half out of four.
To be perfectly honest, before watching National Anthem I was incredibly unfamiliar with gay rodeos and the International Gay Rodeo Association. I’ve never really been a fan of rodeos in general or ever been to one. For me, the main selling point of this film was Charlie Plummer. Despite only being 23 years old, Plummer has already built a strong career and has done a pretty intense job with picking interesting projects (well, Moonfall aside), from playing a schizophrenic teen in the criminally underrated Words on the Bathroom Walls to playing the quirky Dylan in the equally underappreciated teen body horror comedy Spontaneous, Plummer seems to take roles that interest him instead of ones that many would seek as an easier route.
That brings us to the feature directorial debut of Luke Gilford, the acclaimed photographer responsible for the monograph National Anthem America’s Queer Rodeo and who has directed numerous music videos including for artists like Troye Sivan and Kesha. So going into this film I already figured it had two things going in its favor and that was its star and that aesthetically this was likely to be a pretty good-looking film.
National Anthem follows Dylan (Plummer), a 21-year-old construction worker who lives with his alcoholic mother Fiona (Robyn Lively), and his precocious younger brother Cassidy (Joey DeLeon). His father is long out of the picture having walked out when Dylan was still very young, which now makes Dylan the primary caregiver for his family, having to take on additional odd jobs. One fateful day, his colleague Pepe (Rene Rosado) offers him a gig helping out at House of Splendor, a homestead for queer rodeo performers. While initially shy about this lifestyle he’s unfamiliar with, he quickly develops a crush on Sky (Eve Lindley), a bubbly young trans woman who is a skilled barrel racer. As par for the course in coming-of-age films, Dylan begins to discover who he really is, experimenting sexually, physically, and mentally, falling in love, and above all else finding a true sense of belonging that he’s never had before.
The overall plot of National Anthem is nothing too new outside its setting, we’ve seen these tales of self-discovery time and time again. The story structure is quite loose and flows at its own pace never feeling rushed but never too slow, letting Dylan’s journey play out much more organically. There are some moments early on in the film that come across as self-indulgent and don’t necessarily add too much additional context, visually these scenes are extremely well captured, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel needed to see a close-up of Dylan masturbating while envisioning Sky dancing in the desert.
One of the biggest standouts in National Anthem is Katelin Arizmendi’s cinematography, the film, at times has a grainy vintage aesthetic that meshes perfectly with the New Mexico settings. Even at the film’s weaker moments, it still manages to always be visually interesting, from the drag shows to a rural department store, and of course the deserts right outside of House of Splendor, the effort put into the film is abundantly clear. In a way, it feels like a Chloé Zhao film, namely The Rider and Nomadland, in how it makes even the simplest locations look breathtaking. Whatever Gilford decides to do as his next film, one can hope he brings alongside Arizmendi as they make for the perfect match.
Plummer turns in another impressive performance as Dylan. Throughout the film, the character is still trying to find himself, which results in his character feeling a bit more flat compared to his co-stars. Lindley’s character at times feels a tad underwritten, outside a handful of lines about her upbringing and her complex relationship with Pepe, which becomes a point of confusion for Dylan that ultimately leads to nothing. Despite the contrivances with her character, Lindley still carries a lot of charisma in her performance. It’s easy to see why Dylan is quick to fall for her, and her quieter moments including a scene where she applies blue eyeliner to Dylan are among the best in the film. Plummer and Lindley have such a natural chemistry with each other, and they shine the brightest whenever they are on-screen together.
The biggest standout of the cast, however, is Mason Alexander Park as Carrie, a non-binary drag queen who grew up in a strict conservative family. Park has such an electric screen presence and perfectly bounces off of all their costars. Park really expands the role of Carrie beyond just what the script gave them and leaves the biggest impression once the credits roll. Rosado’s role as Pepe feels undercooked, while the performance is still serviceable, the subplots that he was given do him dirty, especially with a misunderstanding between him and Dylan that occurs late in the film.
Gilford has a lot of talent as a director, and while the film’s screenplay is lackluster, the direction that truly elevates the film to another level. Gilford has a way to make the film feel intimate and personal, nothing is ever exaggerated or melodramatic, even with some of the more clichéd elements of the movie. While there are moments that overstay their welcome or feel too drawn out, it also compliments well with the movie’s affectionate and grounded tone. As a debut film, Gilford’s work shows so much potential for future projects, even if the subject matter isn’t of interest, you can’t help but keep your eyes glued to the screen.
National Anthem may at times feel a bit too simple, but the craftsmanship and the core performances are enough to make it worth a watch. It occasionally borders between overly sentimental, self-indulgent, and authentic. Much like its main character, the film is trying to find itself as it moves along, and sometimes that works for the movie’s benefit, other times it becomes almost a hodgepodge of different ideas. Despite all of this, it never stops being interesting. There are too many queer films that try to make a big deal out of everything, and that makes National Anthem feel refreshing in how it portrays everybody as people first instead of walking stereotypes.
Rating: B-
Source: Various sources
