But How Gay is ‘American Animals’?

In “But How Gay Is It?”, we seek to answer the biggest questions you have about a new movie release in theaters now — including, most crucially, the titular question. Does the movie have any queer characters? Are there stories involving same-sex lovers? Which gay icons star in the film? We’re bringing you all that and more.

What is American Animals? In 2005, four young men — Spencer Reinhard, Warren Lipka, Chas Allen, and Eric Borsuk — attempted to rob the library of Kentucky’s Transylvania University. Their goal was to steal $12 million in rare books, then offload them to interested buyers in Amsterdam. American Animals, named for a quote in Charles Darwin’s On the Origin of Species (one of the targeted books), follows the four through the planning, execution, and aftermath of the heist.

How it does so, however, is the selling point of director/writer Bart Layton’s film: The movie is both documentary and narrative. The four real culprits appear on screen in docuseries-style talking heads, while actors play their younger selves. The result is a hybrid that, although not unprecedented, stands out in a market that often separates the two styles entirely.

Who’s in it? Barry Keough gets the protagonist treatment as Spencer, the quiet artist who acts as the film’s moral compass. Evan Peters plays the heist’s primary designer, Warren. Blake Jenner, late of Glee and Everybody Wants Some!!, is the too-intense muscle man Chas. And Jared Abrahamson plays nervous accounting major Eric. Ann Dowd rounds out the cast as Betty Jean Gooch, the librarian guarding the books who the men attack and subdue in the process of their heist. (Her real-life counterpart appears in the film as well.)

Why should I see it? The true story is well-told, and the mix of narrative and documentary styles mostly works. It’s pretty experimental for a mainstream indie film; watching it, you imagine the future films that could make even better use of this format. It’s worth supporting if only for that. And Peters, who has mostly been trapped in Ryan Murphy projects the last few years, is nothing short of stellar as Warren.

But how gay is it? Unless you count some bromantic tension between Warren and Spencer as gay content (which, you shouldn’t), it’s not gay. There’s also a scene in which Chas objects to being called Mr. Pink that echoes Steve Buscemi’s character’s own complaints about the name in Reservoir Dogs. In fairness to Layton, the movie is set in the early 2000s, a time when gay panic and femmephobia was widespread and socially acceptable. It’s entirely possible Chas did say something to that effect. But since the scene affects absolutely nothing else, it’d have been an easy enough cut. Just because it’s accurate doesn’t mean it’s necessary.

Is American Animals funny? This is a question I’ve been asking myself, too — and by extension, is American Animals even trying to be funny? Was Ocean’s 11 trying to be funny? Was The Bling Ring trying to be funny?

Heist movies are a weird genre of film. They’re so objective-based that they can’t quite be thrillers. They’re so tense they can’t be comedies. If I had to choose, I’d say they’re dramas, but they often feel too light to be such. American Animals is no exception to this phenomenon. There’s heavy stuff here about crossing moral lines and how one’s actions color their character for the rest of their lives. Simultaneously, there are humorous moments that nonetheless fall somewhat flat comedically because they’re surrounded by so much serious stiffness.

Movies can be a lot of things at once — Call Me By Your Name, which is one of the greatest romantic dramas of the 21st century, had some of the funniest scenes of any movie last year. I don’t mean to demand that American Animals pigeonhole itself, particularly since it does play with form so compellingly. But it feels somewhat unmoored, like it’s trying to be everything and nothing at once.

Is it entertaining, at least? Sure — in parts. Honestly, I was annoyed while watching it. It’s well-made, but too messy and distracted to form into something more compelling. It’s like looking at an unfinished painting: You see the promise, but the brush strokes never cohere.

One last thing: I don’t want to get too far into this, but the movie gets really heavy-handed about these four privileged, white men supposedly ruining their lives. Yes, the men spent over seven years each in prison. But as we see in the epilogue, all are exploring creative ventures now — ventures that will almost certainly gain extra attention thanks to this film. They are, to put it bluntly, fine. Oddly, the only thing American Animals really takes them to task for is attacking Betty Jean Gooch, who (as we see) is alive and in good health now. It’s a confusing treatment of the protagonists, and it’s hard to grasp just what Layton thinks of them.

Is there enough Ann Dowd in American Animals? There is no such thing as enough Ann Dowd, for we will always be left wanting more. What a national treasure.

American Animals is in theaters now.