Hayley Kiyoko’s directorial debut, “Girls Like Girls,” seeks to capture the essence of adolescent love and queer representation but stumbles in its execution. Following the legacy of her iconic 2015 single, which celebrated same-sex love and went viral, Kiyoko aims to expand her vision into a full-length film. However, despite its nostalgic setting and sincere intentions, the film falls short of delivering a compelling narrative, resulting in a predictable viewing experience.
A Nostalgic Setting with Familiar Tropes
Set in the summer of 2006 in a quaint Oregon town, “Girls Like Girls” follows Coley (Maya Da Costa), a reserved teenager grappling with the recent loss of her mother. Relocating to live with her estranged father, Coley’s life takes a turn when she meets Sonya (Myra Molloy), the quintessential girl-next-door, who is trapped in an unfulfilling relationship with her boyfriend, Trenton. Their immediate connection hints at a budding romance that challenges the boundaries of friendship, setting the stage for emotional exploration.
The film’s nostalgic flair is palpable, with vivid imagery and a soundtrack reminiscent of the era, including artists like Tegan and Sara. However, this reliance on nostalgia often feels heavy-handed, pulling focus from the characters’ development and emotional journeys. The visual aesthetic is striking, yet it serves more to evoke a sense of time than to deepen the narrative.
Dialogue that Misses the Mark
While the chemistry between Da Costa and Molloy shines through in their performances, the script’s dialogue often falls flat. Lines intended to convey depth or emotional weight come across as clichéd, leading to moments that feel more cringeworthy than relatable. “I’m tired of running,” Sonya confesses while resting her head on Coley’s shoulder, to which Coley replies, “So don’t.” Such exchanges evoke the superficiality often found in young adult fiction rather than the profound connection one might expect from a film tackling themes of love and identity.
The film strives for a raw, vérité style, yet the overlapping dialogue and casual camera work lack the authenticity necessary to ground the story. Instead of a genuine portrayal of teenage angst and longing, viewers are left with a polished façade that fails to penetrate deeper emotional layers.
A Missed Opportunity for Political Depth
Kiyoko’s vision of representation is commendable; she emphasises the importance of visibility for LGBTQ+ narratives in mainstream cinema. Yet, “Girls Like Girls” ultimately presents a depoliticised view of adolescent love. Although Sonya expresses feelings of guilt, stating her relationship with Coley is “wrong,” the film offers no context for this sentiment. The absence of external influences or societal commentary leaves the narrative feeling insular and emotionally unearned.
As a result, the film feels both intensely personal and frustratingly hollow. Kiyoko’s approach, while rich in aesthetic and intention, neglects to explore the broader implications of love and identity within the LGBTQ+ community. The characters are trapped in a bubble of personal feelings, devoid of any meaningful connection to the world around them.
A Sweet Yet Unsatisfying Experience
Despite its shortcomings, “Girls Like Girls” contains moments of genuine tenderness, particularly during the characters’ shared glances and the anticipation leading up to their first kiss. These scenes evoke the thrill of young love, capturing fleeting emotions that resonate with anyone who has experienced the pangs of infatuation. However, the film’s narrative structure feels disjointed, with charming vignettes loosely stitched together, leaving viewers yearning for a cohesive story.
The film’s reliance on familiar tropes and its failure to fully develop its themes ultimately lead to a sense of disappointment. While Kiyoko’s intentions are noble, the execution leaves much to be desired, resulting in a film that feels more like an ode to representation than a fully realised exploration of love.
Why it Matters
“Girls Like Girls” is a reflection of the ongoing journey towards greater representation of queer stories in mainstream media. While it faces critiques for its narrative weaknesses, it nonetheless opens the door for conversations about the importance of visibility and the complexities of love in all its forms. As more voices emerge in the industry, films like Kiyoko’s serve as stepping stones, highlighting the need for authentic storytelling that resonates with diverse audiences. The challenge remains for future filmmakers to build upon these foundations and craft narratives that not only represent but also engage and inspire.