HOMEGROWN explores the rise of American neo-fascism through the experiences of three Proud Boys, covering a period from just before the 2020 US election through the January 6th insurrection to the aftermath of that event. It’s frequently an infuriating watch, but director Michael Premo gives us insight into these violent men’s incoherent beliefs and detachment from their political heroes while never particularly sympathising with them.
The Proud Boys (who recently lost the use of their name and trademark to a Black church that they terrorised) are a neo-fascist “Western chauvinist” group with a loose political melange of beliefs structured around support for Donald Trump, white supremacy, and apocalyptic evangelical Christianity. The three men that the documentary follows represent different aspects of American neo-fascism. Chris feels wronged that Black people have had opportunities that he hasn’t (he says this moments after telling us he gave away the opportunity of a college education) and yearns for a US version of the Troubles: his story culminates in the extended footage of him breaching police barricades at the US Capital Building. Thad is a thoughtful but misguided man who was radicalised by watching Michael Moore’s FAHRENHEIT 9/11: he is proudly not white supremacist, works with anti-racist groups, and is “not in love with Trump, the man” but with what he’s supposedly done for the country. Randy is the least developed subject of the film and politically defines himself almost entirely through his opposition: he hates Antifa, wants a civil war, and is frequently shown next to people using homophobic slurs.
“It’s frequently an infuriating watch, but director Michael Premo gives us insight into these violent men’s incoherent beliefs and detachment from their political heroes while never particularly sympathising with them.”
Unlike a documentary maker like Louis Theroux, director Michael Premo doesn’t insert himself into the documentary as an interlocutor. He is an invisible observer; his presence is only apparent through what he chooses to film and how he edits the film. Rather than push his subjects down any particular path through direct questioning of their extremist beliefs, Premo gives them enough rope to hang themselves by letting the camera roll while they brag about crimes they’ve committed, lie to their loved ones, threaten violence at the drop of a hat, and refuse to take responsibility for the violence and deaths in their movement’s wake. Premo has a journalistic eye for interesting juxtapositions: we see Chris talking apocalyptically about the coming storm while standing in his unborn child’s unfinished nursery and Thad earnestly failing to understand white privilege in discussion with a Black anti-racist campaigner.
“Watching in 2025, we unfortunately know that the story of American neo-fascism has only continued, and so the film’s ending seems both sad and premature.”
The bulk of the documentary’s footage is from the Proud Boys’ spontaneous gatherings or either preparing for or hanging out after those gatherings, and it’s notable how absent Premo makes the political class feel from both the film and the lives of these men. Aside from a brief in-person appearance from Roger Stone, American far-right political figures like Alex Jones, Mike Pence, and Donald Trump himself are seen only through snippets of TV broadcasts. This separation makes the men’s gatherings, Telegram groups, and random street violence feel incredibly distant from their political heroes. The overall impression is of a group with sociocultural aims (white supremacy, Christian nationalism, etc.) that they approach almost completely outside actual political institutions. Their complete paucity of long-term political objectives is exemplified by their “taking” the Capital and then simply leaving because they don’t know what to do with it.
HOMEGROWN loses energy around the extended footage of January 6th. While the filmmaker was lucky to be in the right place at the right time to capture it, the footage doesn’t feel new or particularly insightful and, by necessity, focuses solely on Chris; the subject was actually there. The film continues after this climactic event, but it doesn’t feel like it has anything left to say as the men’s sad self-inflicted ends are neither particularly surprising nor interesting (with the possible exception of Thad, but it never feels like he truly confronts his internal contradictions). Watching in 2025, we unfortunately know that the story of American neo-fascism has only continued, and so the film’s ending seems both sad and premature.