There are few subjects that are quite as incompatible as the queer community and the armed forces, which has been the source of a lot of tension in terms of political and cultural standards, with the general belief that homosexuality does not have any place within the military being rooted heavily in conservative values. However, just because one is forced to hide their identity does not mean that they cease to exist, or that suppressing their supposedly deviant urges makes them disappear entirely. One individual that has first-hand experience with this belief is Elegance Bratton, who spent a good portion of his early adult years in the US Marines, serving his country, while navigating his own queer identity, which caused him considerable strife, especially amongst his fellow recruits, who viewed his sexuality as enough to subject him to a barrage of abuse and physical attacks. His experiences were captured beautifully in The Inspection, in which Bratton makes his directorial debut. This is a simple, evocative drama about a young man who decides to save himself with the spiral of despair that comes with homelessness by joining the military, under the belief that if he is going to die, then it should at least be in a uniform that will make him a hero rather than just another statistic. The Inspection is one of the year’s most powerful films, a simple but brilliantly complex human drama that touches on issues far deeper and more intimidating than we’d expect based on a cursory glance – and in terms of both narrative complexity and visual prowess, Bratton announces himself as a true talent, a director with a powerful vision, and even when working from a story based on his own life, he produces something so universal in its emotions, it is difficult to not become enraptured in the world he is so dedicated to creating. It is a challenging film, but one that has many impactful moments that strike a profound chord, and its approach to questioning identity is beyond remarkable, and makes for an experience that is beautifully poetic and remarkably detailed and deeply provocative in both form and content.

Social realism as a style of filmmaking has always been slightly contentious when it comes to queer stories, since while they are undeniably very powerful, without an assured hand at the helm, they can feel overly saccharine at one extreme, or far too harsh and miserable on the other, which often makes them quite difficult to temper, especially when dealing with the more bleak aspects of the story. It would have been extremely easy for Bratton to just present us with a brutal, harrowing depiction of the life of a young man who chooses to enlist in the Marines as his last resort in getting his life together, and in many ways The Inspection skirts around the edges of bleakness in ways that constantly feel like it is about to descend into a state of complete despair – yet, even at its most haunting, there’s a soulfulness to this film that can only come from someone fully-committed to telling a story that is driven less by the desire to stir discourse, and more an attempt to evoke certain emotions, particularly those that are more subtle and authentic, rather than the overly sentimental feelings that come about when presented with a specific kind of story that is inherently more downbeat. For Bratton, the process of making this film is not at all linear – in fact, the journey that we see the protagonist undergo is far from simple, and each interaction builds on his story, which is defined by an attempt to develop a sense of self-assurance, while also fending off those feelings of doubt and insecurity that persist in the minds of any year individual, which is so beautifully reflected throughout this film, which finds nuance in the most unsettling moments, assuring us that what we are seeing, as bleak as it may be, is not the terminal point for this young man on his journey of self-discovery, but instead a harsh step towards realizing his own value, one that may be quite difficult to witness, but is otherwise integral to his own individual development, which is what the entire purpose of this film seemed to be, as well as functioning as its most captivating and intriguing merit.

There is something so poetic about how the director approaches this material, and the fact that he is drawing inspiration from his own life only makes it more remarkable. The important distinction between The Inspection and the many other queer films we receive every year (a wonderful development, proving that the LGBTQIA+ community is finally having the chance to see themselves reflected on screen) is that Bratton is not making a film that aims to be universal – there are moments in queer viewers can relate to the protagonist in his journey, especially in the parts where we see his insecurities and self-loathing emerge – but ultimately, this is not a film based around being a thorough examination of the queer experience, in the same way that it was never intended to be a complete depiction of the gruelling training one has to go before becoming a Marine. Instead, it is a semi-autobiographical account of the director’s own personal journey, one that is fascinating enough to make for a solid film, but which never needed to be reconfigured to be a more inviting, holistic demonstration of the queer experience, but instead functions as a more intimate, personal work to which we are encouraged to form a connection, but which is certainly not mandatory in any way. Bratton is extraordinarily gifted, and he crafts a film that feels like an intricately-crafted examination of a young gay man growing into his identity, but through the lens of having to develop in scenarios that are far from ideal – whether as a homeless youth who has been disowned by his abusive mother, or at the hands of the vicious and seemingly heartless commanders tasked with training these young people for combat. It is ultimately structured as a coming-of-age story, with the training seemingly being used as an allegory for his development – it’s interesting how the latter portions of the film contain moments that feel far more intimate, such as one particularly moving scene in which the normally cruel drill commander speaks tenderly with his recruits, who are assembled at his feet, in a moment where their collective guard is at its lowest. Each moment delicately placed in this tender but resoundingly powerful, and the tone oscillates between bleak and hopeful, which is perhaps the one truly a universal aspect of this film, which sets out to show that any journey of self-discovery is going to be emotionally and psychologically jagged, which is even more difficult when your surroundings are intentionally hostile to your supposedly deviant identity.

Nested right at the heart of The Inspection are a trio of remarkable performances, which all work together to create this vibrant and emotionally-complex portrait of a young man undergoing change, and learning about himself in the process. Jeremy Pope is a star on the rise – he has already made an impression on stage and in television, and with the exception of small roles in a couple of films, he had yet to make a proper cinematic debut. However, it seemed inevitable that his talents would be brought to the screen, and The Inspection is a remarkable debut for any actor, especially one who has as much raw talent as Pope, who is steadily growing into one of our most interesting and versatile performers. This film is a tremendous showcase for his talents, and his active engagement with the material is beyond remarkable – every emotion, sensation and insecurity felt by the character is delivered promptly and with immense detail by Pope, who commits to the role entirely, to the point where we begin to wonder how much of his own experiences as a young queer man he brought to this performance. He is joined by the other two notable performances, namely Bokeem Woodbine, who navigates a tricky character with such poise, oscillating between villainous and sympathetic in a way we have not seen from this kind of character before. He is not the first actor to play a cold-hearted, manipulative drill sergeant, and he does well in these more harrowing moments – but his best work actually comes in the quieter moments, when we get to see the man behind the mask, which is simultaneously fascinating and terrifying, a major credit to Woodbine’s incredible performance. Finally. Gabrielle Union may only appear in a handful of scenes, but her presence lingers throughout the film, leading to the harrowing conclusion in which her portrayal of a deeply conflicted mother is chilling. Union manages to be sympathetic and monstrous in a single moment, and every line she delivers is curated to have layers of meaning. It is a performance that stays with us, despite being relatively small in comparison to the rest. There is very little doubt that these three actors give some of the best performances of the year, setting the standard for this film and laying a strong foundation for the story as a whole.

Beautifully poetic and profound in ways that are difficult to put into words, The Inspection is an astonishing achievement, and a signal that Bratton may be one of our most exciting young directorial voices. He has already made a significant impact in terms of working on a range of projects across a range of different media, so his artistic vision is certainly not new to those who have been paying attention – but even in hindsight, we can see how he seemed destined to make a major impression once he made something that could be seen by a much wider audience, rather than niche television shows and documentaries, which are otherwise excellent, just underseen since they don’t immediately stand out as potential breakthrough moments for a filmmaker. He puts everything he had to give into The Inspection, which is such a profoundly moving film, which it achieves without ever having to resort to the cheap sentimentality we would normally find in such a film. It is a powerful and moving depiction of queer identity, as seen through the eyes of someone who intentionally ventures into hostile territory under the belief that this is his final opportunity for salvation, not realizing that acceptance starts from within. This is not an easy film, but it is an important one for a number of reasons – it is both inspirational and disquieting, which is the precise contradiction that defines the film and makes it so incredibly poignant. There’s an honesty and integrity to The Inspection, which is a far more interesting film in practice than it seems in theory, which emerges in both the small directorial flourishes that Bratton employs throughout, and the earnest sense of complexity that simmers beneath the surface, which is the source of much of the discourse that we encounter throughout the film. It is a captivating story of identity, as shown through the perspective of someone who had to undergo gruelling training and many near-death experiences to finally feel some sense of belonging, not only through being accepted by the same peers that previously wished to inflict harm on him, but his own sense of self-worth, which grows as the film progresses, resulting in a beautiful but haunting conclusion that is both riveting and deeply enthralling, both terms that could be used to describe the film as a whole, making this a masterful and powerful depiction of queerness in its most raw, unfiltered but strikingly resonant form.