They've got rodeo drive. (Image via NewFest)

You've got to love when photographers become filmmakers. If nothing else works, the film is going to be a visual treat filled with intentionally beautiful moments that may actually help elevate the rest of the proceedings.

It's even better when a film is grounded in a point of view and contains thoughtful, organic performances.

Photographer Luke Gilford's debut feature National Anthem has the beauty and the brains, and also the heart, to make it a new queer classic.

Mise-en-scène-stealers (Image via NewFest)

The film I kept thinking of while watching this story of young day worker Dylan (Charlie Plummer), who dreams of adventure and self-determination, was Donna Deitch's Desert Hearts (1985), thanks to the rural setting and languid romanticism. But a major difference, and update, is that Gilford's story — co-written with David Largman Murray and Kevin Best — does not rely on anyone coming out so much as it relies on Dylan coming into his own, which he does shyly but without self-doubt.

In the world of National Anthem, a queer commune on the outskirts of an already remote town doesn't get burned down at the end and never encounters angry locals. It is about itself, about its own ecosystem of free love, free gender and as much freedom as can be had after the chores are done.

Dylan feels immediately at home when he accepts a job working at House of Splendor, a sprawling ranch owned by Pepe (Rene Rosado) and peopled by non-binary, trans and otherwise queer people, a chosen family with a makeup budget. He is transfixed by lovely, free Sky (Eve Lindley), a trans girl who draws him in, even though she's tethered to Pepe, if only by the most open of relationships.

Never is there any hesitation Dylan, who is smitten and does not waste our film second-guessing it, leaving more time for the movie to trace their blooming love affair, which he conducts as a newcomer to the group and also a worker on the ranch.

At first, it seems like the real world is far more complex — his alcoholic mom (Robyn Lively) can't keep her mitts off his mobile home mad money, he's busy being the father his kid brother never had and their need for him feels like an anchor, or an anvil. But over time, the carefree world of the House of Splendor is revealed to have its own drawbacks and limitations, and may not be the right place for him after all, instead functioning as a portal he needed to move through in order to move on.

Plummer and Lindley — who is photographed like a natural wonder as stunning as the horse her character cherishes — ooze chemistry, and Park is disarming as a wise spirit guide in this warm film that is unashamed to be the trans oasis so many viewers crave.

Charlie & Luke at NewFest 35 (Image by Matthew Rettenmund)

Watch the director and his star chat about National Anthem at NewFest 35 in NYC on October 17: