Remembering queer cinema: Throwing back to ‘Shelter’
Shelter was released way back in 2007, and at the time, was considered incredible queer cinema. The film won a stack of awards at film festivals around the United States and was highly praised for its brazen storytelling. Written and directed by Jonah Markowitz and starring Trevor Wright and Brad Rowe, it’s the story of a young closeted surfer as he struggles to come to terms with who is he, and what he wants for himself.
Set between the idyllic beaches of Orange County, California and the working class neighborhoods of San Pedro, California, Shelter oozes with summer surfing vibes. When the film picks up, Zach (Trevor Wright) doesn’t have a lot going on. He should be attending art school, but instead he is working at a small beachside diner flipping burgers. He’s living with his sister, who has a world of problems of her own, and helping her take care of her young son, Cody (Jackson Wurth).
Zach is also in this weird on again off again relationship with his long time girlfriend Tori (Katie Walder), which is doing absolutely nothing to provide him with any kind of happiness at all.
So Zach skates, he draws, and he surfs and tells himself that everything is fine, and he can definitely live this way. Except that’s not the truth, and deep down, Zach knows this.
Enter Shaun (Brad Rowe). He’s the older brother of Zach’s best friend and he’s moved back into his parents’ empty mansion on the beach in Orange County temporarily. Shaun – a successful writer – has just broken up with his ex-boyfriend and decided to come back to the beach to get his life together and find his mojo again.
The pair run into each other one day and end up spending a whole lot of time together. One thing leads to another and all of a sudden they’re doing the dance with no pants and Zack’s problems become even more plentiful than they already were.
Here are our thoughts on Shelter.
Shelter: the evolution of Zach
Zack is young, deeply closeted and deeply unhappy. Everyone around him, except his sister, is moving on with their lives and charging on into adulthood. His character is so relatable because he is caught in this juxtaposition of being loyal to his family, and being true to himself. For a really long time, Zach doesn’t think it’s possible for him to have both.
Zach worries that if he allows himself to actually come out and live as an out gay man, that he’ll be rejected by his loved ones. And his fear isn’t unwarranted. His sister (who has many problems of her own) has no problem telling Zach exactly what she thinks of his life choices, and what she thinks he should do.
She does this with school, with where he should work, and how he should conduct himself in his relationship with Tori. It’s pretty clear that Zach doesn’t think she would take the fact that he is gay very well (and in the end, he is right).
And then there’s Gabe (Ross Thomas), Zach’s best friend. Incredibly macho and definitely heterosexual, Gabe is the quintessential California bro dude. Beer, parties, pussy and surfing is all that really occupies his brain cells. Despite the fact that Zach is wrong about Gabe, Zach’s hesitation to share his feelings about himself with his best friend is understandable.
So Zach does what so many queer people do when they’re on this journey of self discovery: he represses how he feels about himself and it all results in copious amounts of internalized homophobia. And that never ends well.
Zach’s story in Shelter is super relatable to so many young people, and that’s what makes this movie so timeless and binge worthy. While everyone has different and unique coming out experiences, there are enough of us walking around in the world that have gone through similar experiences to Zach, and this is what immortalizes Shelter in queer cinematic history. His story is timeless, and while we hope that this narrative changes in the future for many, it remains true and real for folks everywhere now. The film might be fifteen years old, but Zach’s tale is as relevant as ever.
Exposing toxic masculinity
Shelter does an outstanding job of subtly highlighting how toxic masculinity is woven into the fabric of almost all aspects of society. Zach, like Gabe, is very much created as a typical California bro dude. He surfs, drinks, and the popular blonde girl is his girlfriend. No one suspects that Zach could possibly be anything other than staunchly heterosexual because he fits this archetype well.
Except why does all of that have to equate to straight?
On the one hand, it seems to work for Zach, as it allows him space to really hide who he is. However, on the other hand, it definitely acts as a prison for him, because he realizes as time goes on that he is deeply confined by these stereotypes.
Shaun is a good juxtaposing character for this paradigm. He is also a big, macho surfer dude, but the difference between him and the others is that he is an out gay man. He embraces the surfing culture, but he doesn’t allow it to dictate how he lives, or who he loves.
Shaun serves as a reminder to all viewers that there is no one right way to be gay, or even heterosexual for that matter. Shaun is accepted by those around him, but he is taunted to a certain degree. For example, his brother uses the word fag with him colloquially, and Shaun just takes it in his stride. By doing this, Gabe ‘others’ Shaun, probably without even realizing he is doing it.
Despite these efforts to place Shaun into a different box than his heterosexual counterparts that exist in their surfing culture, Shaun doesn’t really let that happen. Unfortunately for Zach, he has to learn many hard lessons about self love and self acceptance before he is able to make that leap for himself.
Shelter does a really great job at examining the question of masculinity. What does it mean to be a man, and why does that have to be defined by one’s sexuality? On the surface, Shelter looks like a surfer film that happens to have two guys at the center of it struggling to find a place for each other in their lives, but it’s so much more than that. It’s an artful and subtle exploration into the realms of gender and sexuality, mental health and familial obligation.
We’ve seen this film many times, and we expect that we’ll continue to watch it as time continues to unfold. As our society evolves and our understanding of these entities grows and changes over time, the core issues that define gender and sexuality spaces are rooted at the very center of this story.
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