The feature film debut of music video and short film director Luke Gilford, National Anthem is a tender, meditative LGBTQ+ drama that hits squarely at the right time, although not always in the right places.
In the suffocating heat of New Mexico, dyed-in-the-wool construction worker Dylan (Charlie Plummer) is struggling to find his place, and his people. Between caring for his younger brother, Cassidy (Joey DeLeon), and both brothers coping with their alcohol dependent mother, Feonia (Robyn Lively), Dylan doesn’t have much of his own identity. All he wants is an RV to get him the hell out of dodge.
But, he has to shovel coal and financially float his mum’s ailing hairdressing business, so his dreams are firmly on pause. It’s only when he joins up with Pepe (Rene Rosado), the owner of a secluded ranch in the mountains called The House of Splendor, that Dylan finds his place among a community of queer rodeo performers.
Coming-of-age stories are notoriously tricky to pull off. For every Lady Bird, there’s a Paper Towns. Luckily, this film has more in common with the former – it’s actually quite captivating. Despite being a freshman in features, Gilford conveys the growing pains of sexual maturity with insight and steady control, intelligently capturing the electricity of youth whilst avoiding the pitfalls of a simple trip down nostalgia lane – youthful discovery here doesn’t feel synthetic.
In fact, there is a solidity to how Gilford handles emotion. The delicate themes of gender identity and queerness are never overplayed, nor do they take center stage in spite of the rest of the film. There is balance, with Dylan’s relationship with the magnetic rodeo star, Sky (Eve Lindley), at its core.
Lindley is a standout, along with Mason Alexander Park playing a misunderstood drag queen. Their charm and comfort give the film its heart. Sky is the total opposite of Dylan and his structured existence, pulling him into a completely different world of glamour, excitement and experimentation. Like the rest of the Splendor crowd, she doesn’t have responsibilities; she’s an enthralling, bohemian siren without a care in the world.
It’s in the third act, when Sky and Dylan’s relationship finally reaches its peak, where the cracks begin to show. The story seems to arrive at a natural, satisfying conclusion, but we’re propelled into an epilogue regardless. Even the principle hook – a sexually curious man traveling to a nonbinary haven to forget his troubles – is stretched to the point of obscuring the central message. By the time the credits roll, it’s unclear what the takeaway was supposed to be.
Nevertheless, National Anthem is a joyous frolic through rugged New Mexico that illuminates an underrepresented corner of the world, but never wanders into preaching territory. With echoes of Brokeback Mountain and the style of Minari, we’re in the hands of an intelligent filmmaker. If you’re looking for a coming-of-age story that handles queerness with aplomb, look no further.
- National Anthem is available to stream on Amazon, Apple TV and more on December 9th.
