It’s the early 1950s. Muriel (Daisy Edgar-Jones) and Lee (Will Poulter) live together, unmarried, in her late mother’s rural home. He’s waiting for her to accept his marriage proposal. She’s delaying an answer but running out of time. One morning, Julius (Jacob Elordi), Lee’s younger, less reliable brother shows up. The chemistry is immediate as he reclines on the family car, shirtless despite the Midwest winter, sharing a secret smoke with Muriel. Viewers who are the guessing type might assume they know precisely where On Swift Horses is going. Love triangle. Brother against brother. A woman struggling to assert her path in an America very much trying to shove the genie of women’s independence back into the lamp World War II rubbed to keep business running with the boys abroad.

To the film’s credit, while it incorporates some of that, it takes that beginning on a more complex journey. For one thing, while no one is wrong to notice the chemistry, it isn’t as straightforward as you might expect. Julius, played well with bruised James Dean vibes by Elordi, sleeps with men and women. That said, he tends only to do the latter for money. As the audience realizes, Muriel’s sexuality is also not so easily discerned from her relationship with either brother.

The script, adapted by Bryce Kass from Shannon Pufahl’s novel of the same name, doesn’t so much wrestle with the characters’ sexuality, thankfully, as present it matter-of-factly. It is the 1950s, being queer is a far dicer prospect than today. Still, events frequently nod to the reality that history books can’t easily account for an era’s individual attitudes towards sex and sexuality. For example, a table of men eating lunch where Muriel works lament the fate of a friend outted as gay. They speak about him with restrained but genuine sadness. The next moment, though, one cracks a joke about other gay men forced into the sea. Compassion and ugly ignorance, sitting right next to each other at the diner counter.

Poulter’s Lee suggests an even more progressive figure of the era, something akin to don’t ask, don’t tell ally. He seems aware of his brother’s sexuality but can’t bring himself to say it aloud. Still, in one moment of quiet heartbreak, Poulter reassures Elordi that he never wanted his younger brother to change. He just wanted Julius to stay a part of his life. His struggle to articulate to Muriel how he and Julius are different without outing him is another highlight of the tension between acceptance and the times.

Sometimes, the attempts to give the 50s queer life more nuance go a bit too far though. There’s a section of about ten to 15 minutes where everyone Elordi and Edgar-Jones speak to appear to be shooting their shot. Every line to them reads like the most down bad come on. Part of the film’s (and book’s) point is the risks and rewards of seeking out your community, especially when your community doesn’t have many members and society too often treats its members as illegal. To have both characters trip backward over people who share similar interests feels almost as though On Swift Horses is having a bit of a giggle.

Besides this brief blip, however, the movie provides a thoughtful, compassionate look at being queer in the Eisenhower era. It isn’t just a tale of misery but one that makes space for joy and, perhaps even more importantly, ambiguity and ambivalence.

As deliberate as the script can be in those cases, it, on the other hand, often strands characters and subplots in frustratingly incomplete ways. This is perhaps where it being an adaptation of an existing work is most evident. In the name of feature-length efficiency, some rich characters like Poulter’s Lee or their neighbor Sandra (a tremendous Sasha Calle) get short-shrift. Despite the performances and developments that precede those moments, they feel less like vital aspects of the story and more like pieces existing for plot advancement. The fact that the characters are often incredibly insular, despite the strong acting, only exacerbates the situation.

(It should be noted that Diego Calva as Henry, Julius’s partner in crime and love, largely dodges this bullet. He feels fully realized by the time credits roll.)

Any discussion of On Swift Horses needs to take the time to praise Director Daniel Minahan and Director of Photography Luc Montpellier’s collaborative effort. The resulting visuals are beautiful and well-composed. There’s clearly been plenty of thought in how the film looks and the camera moves in a way that doesn’t scream style at the audience. Instead, it slowly and steadily envelops them in it. Regardless of the film’s other successes or failures, it is undeniably wonderful to look at.

On Swift Horses gallops into theatres April 25.