Plainclothes: Queer Cognitive Dissonance Captured on Camcorder

Film Reviews

Sundance Film Review: Plainclothes
Director: Carmen Emmi
Lorton Entertainment, Mini Productions, Page 1 Entertainment
Premiere: 01.26

“I hope you can free yourself of the shame.”

Set in the mid-to-late ‘90s, Plainclothes focuses on Lucas (Tom Blyth, The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes), a “plainclothes” cop whose job is to entrap cruising gay men, booking them on indecent exposure charges. From the jump, it’s apparent that the job takes a psychological toll on Lucas, as he seems to want to actually engage with these men. Things escalate when he meets Andrew (Russell Tovey, Being Human), a man with whom he makes an instant connection, going so far as to spare him from arrest. The two continue to see each other, and Lucas finds himself falling harder and harder for the man who helped him cross the line, while also drifting further and further away from his job which is at direct odds with his current lifestyle.

Director Carmen Emmi’s point of view is clear, his directorial style distinct. The film feels firmly rooted in its ‘90s setting, thanks in no small part to Emmi’s implementation of Hi8 camcorders. The film’s traditional look is occasionally punctuated with a flurry of camcorder shots which act as Lucas’ subconscious, capturing his internal struggle. The film relies on quick cuts, heavy montage and a whole variety of different aspect ratios to capture different tones, moods and feelings. At times, the editing is reminiscent of music videos, particularly when set to licensed music. While this stylization is certainly engaging, and fits well with the film’s themes, there are a few moments where it feels a touch overwrought, as if Emmi is afraid audiences won’t pick up on feelings unless he clobbers them over the head with them.

Plainclothes finds a game match in its two leads. Blyth and Tovey both mask well as “DL” gay men, but they share a palpable chemistry. Even the smallest glances are drenched in sexual desire and passion, and even the smallest of touches are electrically charged. The film perfectly captures the exhilaration of sexual liberation — that moment when you finally allow the shame to fade into the background for a few moments. You can almost see the sexual repression sweating out of them when they finally find a quiet place to be alone. Two pairs of deeply expressive eyes can tell an entire story. 

But this isn’t a simple love story: Plainclothes clearly has a lot to say about the queer experience, particularly in the United States. Despite being considered a more “progressive” country, the U.S has had a storied history of mistreatment and oppression of queer people. It’s no coincidence that Lucas and his partner patrol a mall, as it represents the glorious commercialism of Americana. For decades, shopping malls were the symbol of “freedom” — as American as apple pie. Yet where is the freedom for people whose only true self expression is found within the confines of a bathroom stall? Where is the freedom for people who have to hide themselves from friends and loved ones?

By booking these men on indecent exposure charges, officers are given state-sanctioned authority to commit violence against gay and bisexual men. They claim it is to “catch the perverts” but if the police are the ones filming unsuspecting men in bathrooms, one begins to wonder who the true perverts are. This is yet another one of the ways that the United States government sets out to wage war on marginalized communities.

Plainclothes is a challenge to all institutions that keep queer people closeted and hidden away from the world, be that church or government. In a crushing moment of seemingly throwaway dialogue, Andrew says, “I wouldn’t tell my parents if they were still alive.” How many millions of people have had to hide their true selves in fear of retribution? How many still do? Plainclothes is especially salient at a time when queer rights are under attack all throughout the United States. It’s a daunting time to come out, and coming to terms with your sexuality isn’t something that is simple. It certainly wasn’t for me. But this is also a film that adamantly states that hiding in shame is equally destructive. This is perfectly encapsulated by the film’s final moment, as Lucas exhales a massive sigh, signaling that he is finally free from the burden of being unknown. —Seth Turek

Read more of SLUG’s coverage of the 2025 Sundance Film Festival.