The world of vivid Americana and the sweeping Wild West landscape have long been used as a backdrop for stories critiquing the underbelly of America. The environment can be lonely, isolated and conservative. But as a segment of society far from the mainstream, it can also be a place of healing, love and independence.

In National Anthem, Luke Gilford’s emotionally stirring directorial debut, 21-year-old Dylan (Charlie Plummer) lives a fairly obsolete life, taking on construction and ranching work in New Mexico while picking up after his absent mother, Fiona (Robyn Lively). One day, Dylan takes on a job at the ranch called “The House of Splendor,” where he meets a vibrant and supportive community of queer people, including love interest Sky (Eve Lindley). The place creates a found family for him as he starts to embrace his queerness and find new meaning in life.

Gilford’s warm portrait of the desert allows for the story’s emotions to hit hard as Dylan tries to find what home means to him. The symbolism of American flags and red, white and blue colors are effective at telling this story about queer people coming together and paving their own way within the suppressing world they’ve been born into.

The best moments of Gilford’s directing style feel incredibly naturalistic, simply observing the environment around Dylan akin to films by Chloé Zhao and Kelly Reichardt. Cinematographer Katelin Arizmendi also has an undeniable gift for choreographing tight close-ups, allowing the characters’ raw emotions to surface. There’s a lot to love about National Anthem.

Sadly, Gilford, at times, can’t help but get in his way with his wavering style.

Gilford, who began his career in the world of music videos, drops in some imaginary scenes with quick cuts, bringing Dylan’s heightened sense of euphoria and belonging to life. In one moment, Sky dances in front of Dylan at a grocery store while the lights all around the store shut off. It’s a scene that feels ripped right out of a Lana Del Rey music video, and it works because of how well it catches the audience off guard. The music blares and the audience immediately taps into Dylan’s emotional state.

However, Gilford begins to add too many scenes like this in the first half, creating a tonally inconsistent style in juxtaposition with the quieter, down-to-earth moments. As fantastic as the music is in this film (Perfume Genius is my favorite artist, after all), Gilford begins to over-rely on the soundtrack instead of allowing the everyday conversations and moments to carry the story’s emotional weight. If Gilford had used music more sparingly, it would’ve hit even harder when he chose to use it. Thankfully, the film’s second half returns to the slower style that was set up at the beginning.

While the visual style of the film has its ups and downs, it’s all high notes for the excellent lead performance given by Plummer. Since his turn in the A24 drama Lean on Pete (2017), Plummer has become a true star of the independent film scene, elevating every project he’s a part of. That much is no exception here. Plummer conveys so much about Dylan just through his eyes and expressions; the way his eyes light up the first time he’s at the new ranch and interacting with other queer people is perfectly portrayed, even as he finds himself hiding his true self back home.

The interactions between Dylan and his younger brother, Cassidy (Joey DeLeon), make up some of the most poignant moments in the film. One of the most heartbreaking scenes in the entire film sees Dylan coming home one day with blue eyeshadow and makeup on his face. He asks Cassidy to help him rub it off, telling him to keep it a secret from their mom. Later on in the film, though, Dylan performs drag and helps Cassidy try on a dress, showing Dylan’s growth as a character not just through his own self-acceptance but in allowing Cassidy to embrace himself, too.

Lindley is another highlight in the cast, although the way her character is written feels too close to the manic pixie dream girl arc. This is especially true in the film’s first half, which features many scenes of Dylan masturbating to Sky and fantasizing about making love to her. Sky is Dylan’s introduction to this world and helps him come into his own as a queer person, but it takes too long for her character to develop beyond her relationship with Dylan. The final heartfelt conversation between Carrie (Mason Alexander Park) and Dylan directly addresses this trope and how Dylan thinks he needs her. Despite how substantial the moment is, it feels a bit too late to resolve the entire storyline.

Even if not every creative decision works, National Anthem remains absolutely worth watching. The moments of queer joy and love will forever be etched into my brain. For as many visual flourishes as Gilford adds throughout the film for emotional effect, the most powerful moments remain the most simple: Dylan beaming, surrounded by all queer people and realizing he’s exactly where he’s meant to be.

Review Courtesy of Matt Minton at NewFest 2023

Feature Image Credit to LD Entertainment via IMDb