The community seems like a utopia (or, at least, a utopia for people who never need any alone time). We don’t get to know many people in this community, beyond Sky, Pepe, and the wonderful Carrie, played by Mason Alexander Park with such warmth and intelligence it emanates off the screen. Dylan crushes on Sky; she is his first love, but Carrie is the guide, the warm mother figure (who also welcomes Cassidy to the fold on a day they all go to a county fair). All of these people, of course, have been through the trauma of non-acceptance from their families and the outside world. The political element – like Tennessee banning drag performances or the harmful legislation being passed – isn’t mentioned, but the lack of mention gives this community even more poetic resonance. These people are not just “survivors”. They are thriving. The rodeo is their world. They have created the world they want to live in.
Gilford said in an interview, “One thing that I love about this community is that if you show up, you’re accepted. There’s something really beautiful about that. That’s what America is supposed to be.” Hence, the title. Gilford’s cinematic eye is attuned to details, and there is a documentary feel to many of the sequences, particularly the rodeo scenes. These are the real people doing the real thing. He’s also attuned to Dylan’s awakening, as is Plummer, whose face is so open and transparent the camera catches everything. The dawning of love, of “finding his people” (as Sky observes), is everywhere on his face. Gilford and cinematographer Katelin Arizmendi help us enter this world by presenting it lovingly and intimately. The big skies, the earth, the sunsets, the way people’s skin reflects the light, and the collage-like presentation of all the people who live at House of Splendor embed us in their experience. Gilford knows this world very well and it shows.
These people participate in all the “tropes” of Western life: ranching, farming, rodeo, line-dancing. The people in this community take their cowboy hats off and place them over their hearts for the national anthem. They do this without irony or snark. This is their culture, too, whether or not the mainstream accepts them. The romance between Dylan and Sky, and the somewhat tense “love triangle” with Pepe, tends towards cliche, but, thankfully, Gilford – and the actors – fight against it. The visual language of the film is so strong, so poetic and palpable, it’s clear that “National Anthem” is not about whether Dylan and Sky will “make it” as a couple. “National Anthem” is about this shy young man “finding his people,” finding his chosen family. Whether or not he stays with them is not even important. He now knows there’s a wider world out there. There’s hope. For Dylan, and for his little brother.