It’s funny how whenever a movie comes along with gay central characters, eager audiences and press alike tend to nickname the project “the gay cowboy movie” or “the gay slasher movie” or, in the case of Shelter, “the gay surfer movie. ” Truth is, Shelter is as much about surfing as Brokeback Mountain was about animal husbandry.
Shelter stands head-and-shoulders above most other films in its genre (gay romantic dramas, not “gay surfer movies”) thanks to its solid cast, its intimate, kitchen-sink feel, and its reluctance to play to the clichés that generally plague “coming out” movies.
Shelter’s avoidance of the standbys of coming-out movies makes an otherwise familiar story feel fresh. There are no gay bars, no drugs, no drag queens, no circuit anthems, no gay-bashings, no AIDS scares, and no screaming parents to speak of. Sure, some of these elements will likely enter any gay man’s life at some point or another, but Shelter’s focus on Zach’s first love and how it fits into his working-class surroundings lends a wonderful authenticity.
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