There’s a moment inLove, Simon– the film adaptation ofBecky Albertalli’sSimon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda– where the titular Simon Spier admits to himself, “I’m done living in a world where I don’t get to be who I am. … I deserve a great love story, and I want someone to share it with.” Some may roll their eyes at the “everyone deserves a love story” rallying cry that’s been at the forefront of the film’s marketing campaign, but it should not be dismissed.
Greg Berlanti, the name behind theArrow-verse on The CW, has made the superhero landscape more diverse, and he’s doing the same thing for mainstream rom-coms. We’ve seen the age ofJohn Hughesfilms (Pretty in Pink,The Breakfast Club,Ferris Bueller’s Day Off) and all the titles they influenced (Mean Girls,Easy A, evenSpider-Man: Homecoming). ButLove, Simonis a bit different.
The past few years have seen a spike in LGBTQ genre titles likeMoonlight,Carol, andCall Me By Your Name, but here’s a story that’s not marketed as Oscar bait from a specialty division of a movie studio. It’s a mainstream title by a prominent distributor (20thCentury Fox) that just so happens to focus on a closeted gay teenager. It’s not resigned to a limited release at your not-so local arthouse theater. It’s what my teenage-self surviving high school in a small, rural community with limited access to LGBTQ films and books could’ve used – which is why the impact ofLove, Simonoutweighs most grievances audiences might have.
Nick Robinsonhas never quite stood out to me as the leading man Hollywood seems to think he is, even after 2013’sThe Kings of Summer. But here, as 17-year-old Simon, he catches your attention.
Simon is blessed with a support system in the form of a mom and dad (Jennifer Garner,Josh Duhamel) obsessed with theirBachelorfamily viewing parties, and he has a tight-knit friend group obsessed with iced coffee. He’s a dedicated brother who happily bears with his sister’s experimental cooking skills, he’s a dedicated friend who ferries his pals to school every morning, and he’s the kind of son who may get drunk at a party but he doesn’t drive drunk and always arrives home before curfew. For the past few years, though, something’s been off.
He’s gay and nobody knows, except for his anonymous online pen pal, a fellow classmate that goes by the name Blue with whom he flirts and commiserates about life. But Simon may no longer be able to hide under the cover of a ghost user name when a classmate approaches him. Martin (Logan Miller) wants Simon’s help landing a date with his friend, Abby (played by the ray of sunshine that isAlexandra Shipp), or else he just might release Simon’s emails with Blue to the school’s gossipy Tumblr site and out him to the world.
Take what you will from the presence ofKatherine Langfordof Netflix’s13 Reasons Why, but the cast of similarly YA genre-friendly actors help paint one side of the film’s intent: tackling a serious topic, like the burden of having to come out, in a way that impacts young viewers. ButLove, Simonis closer to something likeEasy A.
LikeEmma Stone’s Olive in thatWill Gluckfilm, Simon pines for that Hughes-esque romance by fantasizing about which one of his schoolmates could be Blue. There are catchy one-liners (you look like you’ve been “gangbanged by T.J. Maxx”), quirky parents, and an overly pristine suburban. But the quirk isn’t quite as quirky asEasy A, nor is it as quirky as one might expect with a book title likeSimon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda.
Love, Simontackles real anxieties in a charming way – or as charming as you may get when you’re dealing with high school blackmail and homophobia. But the way it tackles the material through humor and the occasionalWhitney Houstonmusical break doesn’t provide us with much that we haven’t seen before from a movie tapping into that Hughes nostalgia. It does, however, standout on its own because of the material itself.
It’s difficult to set aside my own experience when considering this film. The only indie movie theater close by growing up – a place where aMoonlightor aCall Me By Your Nameare typically screened for the general public willing to seek them out – was a 45-minute drive from home and it closed down within a couple years of getting my license. Other teens now won’t have to jump through so many hoops to seeLove, Simon.
It’s a film that invites you to make personal connections. It’s a film that captures the anxiety of hearing homophobic rhetoric in the school hallways; it stings, but you may’t address it without painting a target on yourself in the process. It’s a film that recalls the digital safe haven the Internet provides and the breath you’re able to breathe while under the protection of an anonymous online user name in a chatroom. It’s a film that gives LGBTQ kids their ownNever Been Kissedmoment. (Minor spoiler alert: Yes, there is a moment where the entire school is cheering on Simon as he waits on a Ferris wheel for his prince charming – the sort of attention, by the way, that very few queer teens would want, especially right after coming out. But it’s one of those issues I’ll let slide because, again, the substance is more affecting than the nit-picking.)
It’s a film that gives kids a happy ending that’s so rare for LGBTQ people on film, with back-to-back heart-to-hearts from both Garner and Duhamel that’ll make you want to call up your own parents and blubber together over the phone. It’s a film that, hopefully, will lead to many more like it.
