‘National Anthem’ review: Luke Gilford explores the wondrous, inviting world of America’s queer rodeo | SXSW

Midway through National Anthem, Dylan (Charlie Plummer) asks Sky (Eve Lindley) why she’s interested in him, self-proclaiming that he’s boring. “I don’t think you’re boring,” she responds, “You just haven’t met your people yet.” That sentiment beautifully sums up photographer Luke Gilford’s feature directorial debut, a film that finds its protagonist unaware that he’s even looking for anything, simply trying to get by and make ends meet. His discovery of a welcoming, free-thinking community that might just have a place for him comes as a wondrous surprise that changes his worldview forever.

Set in rural New Mexico, National Anthem introduces Dylan as a hard worker who is fiercely protective of his younger brother Cassidy (Joey DeLeon) and, at just 21-years old, must provide for his family given his dependably unpredictable mother (Robyn Lively), who drinks heavily and often kicks her young son out of his bed at night when she brings home a man. While he waits one day looking for work, Dylan sticks out as the only day laborer who doesn’t speak any Spanish. Pepe (Rene Rosado) notices him anyway and invites him to what could become a long-term job working out on his ranch.

It’s fitting that Dylan is the one who doesn’t conform when he first meets Pepe, because he quickly discovers that there is something special about Pepe’s ranch. Its residents are queer rodeo performers who have found a vast, open landscape in which to express themselves. The questions they ask are not about identity or history, but instead about what dreams and desires Dylan possesses. It’s clear that Dylan has never been subject to this kind of curiosity about himself from anyone, moving instead through life with survival and sustenance as his only goals.

There is a mesmerizing quality to how this film is shot, carefully focused on its characters’ facial expressions and contrasting those with the grandeur of their desert setting. Gilford, whose photograph series serves as the inspiration for this film, clearly has an eye for the camera. Cinematographer Katelin Arizmendi, whose previous standout credits include Swallow and Charm City Kings, has a delicate touch that matches the sensitivity of this film’s lead character, gentle and unassuming. It’s a marvelous way to frame a story that isn’t heavy on action or climactic interactions, but instead takes the time to really get to know its characters through the ways they experience ecstasy. 

That joy and freedom is captured no more prominently than through the performance and lensing of Lindley. She follows up a spectacular turn in the limited series Dispatches from Elsewhere with an entirely alluring portrait of someone who immediately catches Dylan’s eye and serves as the object of his obsession. There’s also something distant about her that Dylan is never able to fully comprehend, but he is able to get clear, direct answers from Carrie (a standout Mason Alexander Park), who is more than happy to discuss their nonbinary journey in an open and productive way.

There is a nonjudgmental warmth that blankets this entire film, which is set in a place that could easily be harsh and unforgiving for its free-thinking main characters. When Cassidy meets Carrie for the first time, his innocent first question is, “Are you a girl or a boy?” When Carrie smiles and responds “Neither,” Cassidy simply says, “Cool!” Dylan’s mother isn’t nearly as kind or open-minded, but this is mostly a positive story of self-exploration. Plummer stands in for the audience as Dylan, ready to consider new possibilities but largely at a loss for words, taking it all in and letting the experience transform him rather than trying to guide it. Just as is the case with Dylan, it’s easy to become captivated and drawn into this film’s alluring and accepting world.

Grade: B+

This review is from the 2023 SXSW Film Festival.