Review of “Shelter”

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. But fortunately for gay film lovers starved for a decent gay romance, much like Brokeback, it is a well-made, fresh, and genuinely touching story of first love.

Zach (Trevor Wright) spends his days after graduating high school flipping burgers, taking care of his nephew, and working on his art. When he’s not babysitting, Zach spends much of his time alone in the sun-bleached, lower class industrial neighborhoods of his California town, skateboarding, tagging warehouses, and thinking about his uninspiring future. All his friends are off to college, his father is slowly losing his ability to take care of himself, his unmarried sister takes little responsibility for her own son, and his relationship with his girlfriend is rocky at best.

Zach’s escape is the open sea, where he rides the waves alone. But when picking up a board at his wealthy best friend’s supposedly empty beach house, he runs into older brother Shaun (Brad Rowe), a writer who has come down from Los Angeles to cool off after a bad breakup. The two loners haven’t seen each other for years and they strike up a cautious friendship superficially rooted in surfing.

Trevor Wright (left) & Brad Rowe

Though neither of the men mentions it, Shaun is gay and the fact is generally well known around town. Zach reveals that he read Shaun’s first novel and liked it, which takes Shaun by surprise. His cautious admittance of knowledge about Shaun’s sexuality and interest in his life changes the trajectory of their relationship, and before long the two share a drunken but chaste kiss at the beach house.

After this tentative connection, Zach panics and withdraws. And to further complicate matters, his sister Jeanne (played by Six Feet Under alum Tina Holmes), who has heard that he’s been hanging out with Shaun, demands to know if her brother is “a fag” (Zach denies it) and says that she doesn’t want her son being around a gay man like Shaun — this, of course, despite the fact that Shaun and Zach are far more attentive to the child than she is.

Aside from his clear romantic interest in Zach, Shaun also encourages his new friend to pursue his art and to reapply to California Institute of Arts, where Zach says he was denied a much-needed scholarship the previous year. As Zach struggles to navigate his deepening relationship with Shaun, his family drama, and his own ambitions and dreams, he gradually transforms from a dutiful, quiet, and put-upon youth to a vibrant, intelligent, and loving man.

Rowe (left) & Wright

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.

Rowe in particular shines here as the older, wiser, and almost impossibly good-natured Shaun. He’s sexy, easygoing, and dignified, and seems incredibly at ease in his own skin, which is not always the case when straight actors take on gay roles.

And relative newcomer Wright’s detached, polite moodiness melts away beautifully as his character develops, giving Zach a satisfying arc. Supporting players like Holmes and Ross Thomas as Gabe, Zach’s straight best friend and Shaun’s younger brother (the scene where Zach reluctantly comes out to Gabe is definitely a highlight), lend the film an authentic, understated beach-town feel.

Ross Thomas (left) & Wright

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.