Evading me since Sundance, finally Plainclothes has arrived in a landscape in desperate need of more LGBT films. Putting the lineup up against last year, there were a hell of a lot more titles to choose from. But as they say, quality trumps quantity every time. Twinless, On Swift Horses, A Nice Indian Boy, Griffin in Summer, and now Plainclothes are among some of the best LGBT+ films to emerge recently. One of the leads is no stranger to working within this sphere–out gay actor Russell Tovey was a standout in HBO’s short-lived Looking, playing horny-but-unavailable boss, Patrick. Here, he brings a sweetness to his role of Andrew, a mysterious stranger that becomes the catalyst for the story. Playing opposite Tovey is dreamy British actor Tom Blyth, whose Lucas is the film’s manic centerpiece. Their sexual chemistry crackles, elevated by a unique atmosphere and attention to detail from writer/director Carmen Emmi. Exploring a seedy 90s queer vibe with camcorder energy, Plainclothes unleashes a distinct vision of closeted excellence.
Lucas (Tom Blyth), a sexually-confused cop, spends his days patrolling malls and public restrooms, entrapping men for “exposing themselves” in a targeted attack on gay communities. The work both disgusts and entices him–he panics after an arrest, yet lingers on the naked bodies of other men in the locker room. His self-denial begins to crumble when he meets Andrew (Russell Tovey), a stranger who carries himself with a warmth and secrecy of his own. When faced with luring Andrew into a similar trap, Lucas finds himself in the very same bathroom stall primed for a hookup, despite his better judgement. Some urges are too tantalizing to resist.
Under the alias “Gus,” Lucas beings a torrid love affair with the far more experienced Andrew. Their first real date at a movie theater only emphasizes Lucas’s inexperience. He so fears the unknown that he has to sit a full seat’s length away from Andrew. Despite noticing a wedding ring on Andrew’s finger, that never dissuades Lucas from progressing their relationship. Despite having clear lusty feelings for adorable silver fox Andrew, Lucas’s overwhelming anxiety often threatens to swallow him whole. His dysfunctional family at home probably doesn’t help, either. Through vintage footage and stylistic visual memories, we glimpse the bond he once had with his recently-deceased father. An ex-girlfriend (Amy Forsyth) deeply connects with Lucas, and his fellow officers encourage him to crack down harder on the very men he longs to join.
The juxtaposition of grainy VHS surveillance with cinematic close-ups reflects Lucas’s fractured inner life, caught between voyeurism and longing. AIDS-era paranoia also lingers in the subtext, amplifying the stakes of every touch. Emmi finds the commonality between two very different men, drawn to one another despite social stigmas and the dangers of what their connection could bring. At its heart, Plainclothes delves into repression and its corrosive effects. Survival often depended on secrecy and compromise, with any semblance of a real romantic love snuffed out before it can even blossom. Yet, the film resists pure bleakness, offering moments of genuine tenderness between Lucas and Andrew. Can Lucas find a way to accept even the forbidden parts of himself?
Blyth delivers a raw performance brimming with internal struggles as Lucas, capturing both his fragility and his violent bursts of denial. On the flipside, Tovey has been perfectly cast as Andrew, embodying a man torn between family and forbidden desires. Every time the two of them share the screen together, there’s a red hot energy awakened within Lucas. Andrew starts bleeding into his every thought. Can they find a San Francisco together, a way to live out in the open fearlessly? Amy Forsyth also manages to bring warmth to the ex-girlfriend role in a small dose, and though the least compelling element of the screenplay, Lucas’s familial relationships come to a head in a satisfying way during the climax.
The 90s was not so long ago, underlining how far we have come as a society in assimilating queer people into a semblance of normalcy. Even a suggestive gaze or whispers could be taken the wrong way. In such a decade typically seen as being progressive and a simpler time, it can be disheartening to view it through this lens of sadness. The aesthetic never wastes its potential either, brimming with beepers and era-specific fashion. Plainclothes is ultimately a bruising gay tragedy encompassing shame and survival, elevated by inventive visual storytelling and piercing performances. Though relentlessly heavy, it lingers as both an indictment of past cruelties and a testament to the resilience of the self. Maybe its intimate narrative can help put into perspective how little hiding ourselves helps anyone involved.
Plainclothes undresses exclusively in theaters on Friday, September 19th.
