Americana, Tony Tost’s revisionist neo-Western starring Halsey, Paul Walter Hauser, and Sydney Sweeney, bombed at the box office when it was released last month. That’s a shame, because the film, which is now streaming, is one of the year’s most compelling and entertaining titles. Tost, in his directorial debut, has crafted a stylish, Tarantino-inspired crime-comedy that accomplishes what very few Tarantino imitators do: it works as its own film, with the stylistic indulgences feeling natural rather than forced.
It’s Not Really a Sydney Sweeney Movie
Though Americana was predictably promoted as a Sydney Sweeney movie, this is a Halsey vehicle through and through. The singer, who has impressed with supporting roles in Sing 2 (2021) and MaxXxine (2023), takes center stage as Mandy Starr, a desperate, struggling single mother to Cal (Gavin Maddox Bergman), a little white boy who’s convinced he’s the reincarnation of Lakota tribal leader Sitting Bull. (As a Lakota tribe member played by Zahn McLarnon tells Cal later in the film, “Right now isn’t exactly a great time for cultural appropriation.”) Mandy and Cal live with Dillon, a violent drunk and criminal who’s hired by the mysterious Roy Lee Dean (Simon Rex, impressively against type) to steal a valuable Lakota ghost shirt from an unwitting dealer (Toby Huss, fresh off of Weapons).
When Dillon steals the shirt for himself, Mandy sees an opportunity to leave her humdrum existence and get revenge on her abuser in one go. Two big-hearted schemers—love-desperate Lefty (Hauser, quietly tragic) and Penny (Sweeney), a waitress with a stutter who dreams of being a country singer—catch wind of Mandy’s plan, and they hatch their own to get a cut of the cash. Meanwhile, a gang of Lakota tribesmen led by Ghost Eye (McClarnon) mount their offensive to retrieve their artifact. Of course, it all goes awry, resulting in that blend of dark character comedy and nihilistic, slapstick violence which will be familiar to anyone who’s seen a movie like this one.
Americana is a Superior Tarantino Homage
This sort of thing is often labeled “post-Tarantino,” but the grandfather of this genre was the prolific American novelist Elmore Leonard, whom Tarantino frequently credits with inspiring his work. (Tarantino adapted Leonard’s novel Rum Punch into Jackie Brown, which remains the director’s best film.) Americana is so inflected by the author that it’s not even post-Leonard; it is Elmore Leonard, and a tremendously loving tribute at that. It’s also a tribute to Tarantino, such a common effect in cinema that you’d be excused for rolling your eyes at the mere mention of another. But one of Americana’s great magic tricks, amongst a few up its sleeve, is that it honestly earns its comparisons to the controversial director. The film narrative, broken up into titled chapters, unfolds in a non-chronological order, much like Pulp Fiction (1995).
Yet whereas so many movies which have riffed on Tarantino have failed through mere imitation, Tost elevates the material and makes it his own. He takes the rhythm of this sort of crime-caper, which has been set in stone for the best part of 30 years, and does something with it which is truly transgressive. He’s made a film which at once subverts the classic Western and functions as one. There’s a particularly satisfying twist, involving a group of women defending a home from invaders, that’s set up so eloquently and unexpectedly that you want to applaud when Tost drops the punchline. The film also earns points for not pulling its punches, with some bleak turns which hark back to classic pulp fiction novels. Tost, who clearly knows his stuff, handles these tricky tonal switches with aplomb.
Halsey Steals the Show
Two elements are of particular note. Halsey, in her first leading film role, is positively scorching in a tremendously tricky part which requires her to play just about every imaginable emotion and scenario. She’s nearly unrecognizable, disappearing into this role with an ease that many veteran actors have difficulty achieving. Her performance, as well as that of Hauser, elevates Americana beyond just an entertaining caper. The other notable aspect is the clear love Tost has for his characters, even the less redeemable ones. The size of Americana’s heart will surprise you, as will its unexpectedly tear-jerking finale. Despite struggling to find an audience in cinemas, don’t let the dubious hype dissuade you. Americana is brisk and fun, but it also has something provocative to say about life in our country today—how we relate, or don’t relate, to our neighbors.
