Tina Kakadelis
There are two Americas—the one that exists in the real world and the oft-romanticized America that never was. The second one exists in Bruce Springsteen songs, in the flickering neon signs of Route 66, and in the crack of a baseball bat on opening day. This idealized America clashes with the country that exists today, where 37.9 million people live in poverty, the rights of LGBTQIA+ people are constantly in jeopardy, and systemic racism is baked into the very DNA of the country. For many, it’s hard to marry these two versions because of how at odds they are with each other. How can one love a country that doesn’t return the feeling?
The romantic, rose-colored reflection on the so-called golden era of the United States is referred to as Americana. The word speaks to the feeling of a time when people, mostly White, had achieved a standard of living that others could only dream of. It’s white picket fences, 2.5 kids, Chevy trucks, John Wayne’s wild west, blue jeans, apple pies, the list goes on. But many minority groups are left out of this nostalgic imagery. The cowboys of the wild west are always White men, rock and roll music rarely acknowledges its roots in the Black community, and the country prides itself on being an immigrant nation without respecting the Indigenous people who have always been here.
Despite these contradictions, national pride still exists within people who haven’t seen themselves reflected in this nostalgia. Queer, Black, Indigenous, and anyone existing outside the Eurocentric image have always been part of American history. 2024 has seen artists of these communities staking their claim in the nostalgia of Americana. Beyoncé released Cowboy Carter, an ode to the Black pioneers of classic American music whose contributions have often been overlooked or purposefully ignored. The album cover shows Beyoncé riding side-saddle on a white horse, her hair flowing in the wind. She wears a cowboy hat and a red, white, and blue jumpsuit, and holds an American flag that billows behind her. It’s a triumphant image, one that evokes a feeling of pride and firmly reclaims a piece of this nation’s history.
The year 2024 has also seen the meteoric rise of Chappell Roan. Her 2023 debut album, The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess, chronicles her journey from her home state of Missouri to Los Angeles and her exploration of her sexuality. The music video for “HOT TO GO!” sees Roan returning to her Missouri roots to teach the YMCA-esque dance to fans, drag queens, and her grandparents. Roan describes the song as her “cheerleader fantasy,” with the chorus having Roan spell out the song’s title in an all-too-catchy earworm of a chant.
The video opens with a montage of midwestern Americana complete with a glimpse of a Route 66 road marker, Roan’s name on a flashing marquee, cows, kitschy roadside dinosaurs, and Roan in a glittery majorette leotard. “HOT TO GO!” is a homecoming for Roan and an opportunity for her to romp through the places of her childhood with the confidence of someone who has become a more fully-realized version of herself. It’s a gift not everyone gets to receive, and one that’s not usually accompanied with such a catchy song. The exuberance is written on Roan’s face as she prances through a mini-golf course, dances with her grandparents in a suburban front yard, and sings as monster trucks race behind her. Equal parts an ode to the midwestern city that raised her and a queer anthem, “HOT TO GO!” blends Roan’s past, present, and future into a dreamy, hopeful America that could be.
Roan’s queer Americana works as a perfect segue to co-writer/director Luke Gilford’s National Anthem. The film premiered at SXSW in 2023 before playing at TIFF and Raindance. In July 2024, National Anthem will begin its American theatrical run. The film is based on Gilford’s monograph of the same name. Primarily a photographer, Gilford’s National Anthem: America’s Queer Rodeo is the result of a three-year journey documenting the sub-culture of the International Gay Rodeo Association. The film centers on Dylan (Charlie Plummer), an early-twenties construction worker who picks up work at the House of Splendor ranch. There, he’s introduced to queer and trans ranchers and rodeo riders. Immediately, he’s drawn to Sky (Eve Lindley) and finds himself in a love triangle with Sky and her boyfriend (Rene Rosado).
One of the most striking moments of National Anthem comes just before a rodeo begins. Like most major events in the United States, this rodeo has someone performing “The Star-Spangled Banner” as the official start to the show. In National Anthem, the person performing is a Black drag queen who sings the anthem with a Pride flag and an American flag rippling in the wind behind her at sunset. It’s a sight that is goosebumps-inducing. Not just because National Anthem was shot on vibrant film and the purplish sunset frames a beautiful mountains in the desert of New Mexico, but because of the queen at the center of the frame and her rendition of the anthem. The performance is a declarative statement. “The land of the free and the home of the brave” is made up of people who spend every day making inches of progress toward what America could be. Some of those people happen to be queer.
National Anthem takes place in spaces that have historically been unwelcoming to queer people, the rodeo and cowboy lifestyle being one of them as they’ve always been equated to the hyper-masculine. But this lonely lifestyle is the existence of outcasts, a role that queer people know all too well. National Anthem shows the possibility of a haven through community. Dylan is the audience’s entry point to the story, and he’s yearning for a deep, human connection. He finds it among other loners who took the open expanse that New Mexico offers as a chance to redefine what it means to be a cowboy and what it means to be queer. There’s no set way to identify as queer, nor is there one means of being a rancher or a rodeo star. No matter what the Western flicks of yesteryear tried to sell us, there is tenderness that exists in the world of cowboys. National Anthem gives audiences a new kind of Western, one that doesn’t rely on violence or solitude. Instead, it shows the liberation that kindness and community can bring.
Roan’s immense rise in popularity is a testament to her pure popstar power, but also the way she unequivocally ties the imagery of Americana to performances beyond her music videos. For the Governor’s Ball, Roan dressed as the Statue of Liberty. At Hangout Fest, she performed in a bedazzled football jersey. She has paid homage to America’s father of sleaze, John Waters, worn a camouflage ball gown, and put on a prom dress for her Tiny Desk show. Roan has taken the iconography of American nostalgia and ensured that there’s a place there for queer people. It’s the same heartbeat that runs through National Anthem. There are amber waves of grain, Levi’s, Daisy Dukes, and cowboy boots. At one point, Sky sits atop a horse wearing a shimmering American-flag halter top, and it’s a moment that reminds the audience that trans people have always been part of American history. The American flag is a symbol that can instill patriotism that skews toward extreme nationalism, but National Anthem and Roan are using the flag to celebrate the potential that lies in the future of this country. Their art is a means of taking back a history that was stolen from them and contributing to a future that has a place for everyone.
Roan and National Anthem speak to the desire that this nation was built on. America is supposed to be the place where people can be free to do as they please. The right to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” is the building block of this country. When the Declaration of Independence was written, those inalienable rights only belonged to a select few, and that is still somewhat the case today. Yet there’s an unkillable hope that America will live up to its potential and be a country that resembles the America Roan and National Anthem present to their audiences. A country that offers freedom to explore the pursuit of joy without persecution in a world that leads with tenderness above all else.
