[rating=7.00]
In an era dedicated to the immediate gratification of social media, open wifi networks, and instantly shareable data, there’s not a whole lot of room to dedicate to entertainment designed to not make a statement. Whether you’re leaning towards one side of a “controversy” or the other, there’s a certain amount of pandering required to sell to an openly resistant audience. Fortunately for the future of the industry, there’s still hope. Enter YA fiction like Love, Simon. Pure in its effort to showcase a nightmare situation for any teen dealing with coming out to those they love; the movie is primed to take on a commercial look at what it’s like to be true to yourself to the people you love the most.
Simon (Nick Robinson) is a regular teen. In fact, he mentions this to both the audience and his secret pen pal so many times it’s hard to miss. He’s lucky in the grand scope of things; he lives in an upper-class neighborhood with his liberal, supportive family. He goes to school where, yes there’s some issues with bullies (teens are terrible people, after all) but for the most part the student body lives in decent harmony with one another. He has a best friend he’s known since he can remember, and the rest of his friend group seems to care for one another just as they are. But he has “a huge ass secret” that plagues him and keeps him at an arm’s length from the life he has so carefully cultivated; he’s gay.
Admittedly he knows that once he comes out, he will still be welcomed with open arms by those around him. But, he’s afraid of change. And why not, coming out isn’t something that’s taken lightly. In fact, the movie throws perfect shade at the fact that no one has to come out as straight, reminding the cis movie viewers of the unintended privilege that comes with being born what society has deemed “normal.” Simon isn’t alone in this assertion, and soon finds out that there’s someone else in the school harboring the same secret. In an effort to find something he can’t quite put his finger on yet, Simon reaches out to the other closeted gay guy (anonymously of course) and begins to imagine what a world would be like in which he can happily live his very own love story.
At times the film runs into divisive plot lines designed to cater to an all-encompassing audience. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing but does remind us that pop culture demands a dull predictability in order to remain relevant. Even with the lack of twists and turns, the ensemble cast (including Jennifer Garner, Josh Duhamel, Tony Hale, and Katherine Langford) pulls off both the massive importance of those high school years to the teenage sensibility, while also reminding the audience that this is an issue 100% of LGBTQ individuals will face in their lifetime. Just because someone is young, doesn’t mean that their problems and worries are any less valid. In the long run, the divisive nature of the YA drama triumphs, bringing a new world to a large audience that, let’s face it, is hungry for diversity.
Love, Simon will easily slide into those coming of age films that pop culture is so hard on. Whether we like to admit it or not, there will come a time in everyone’s lives that they will be a Simon. Whether it’s early on in their life trying to live their true selves, or late in life as they finally accept a fact about themselves (to a wide audience or not), it will happen. The relatability is part of the charm, and what will help make these huge moments for the LGBTQ community part of the wider public acceptance, rather than just a taboo fact that audiences sigh at from afar.
Love, Simon is now playing in theaters everywhere.
