Girls Like Girls: An Overly Familiar Sapphic Tale Struggles to Make Its Mark

Ben Thompson, Culture Editor
5 Min Read
⏱️ 4 min read

In a landscape where queer narratives are increasingly taking centre stage, Hayley Kiyoko’s directorial debut, *Girls Like Girls*, arrives with the weight of expectations. Known for her breakout single that resonated deeply within the LGBTQ+ community, Kiyoko attempts to translate her vision from music video to feature film. However, the result is a lukewarm exploration of teen romance that, despite its heart, feels mired in predictability and cliché.

A Nostalgic Setting

Set against the backdrop of a small-town Oregon in the summer of 2006, *Girls Like Girls* introduces us to Coley, portrayed by Maya Da Costa. Recently uprooted to live with her estranged father, played by Zach Braff, Coley is a sullen teenager grappling with the loss of her mother. This heavy backstory, while intended to add depth, often feels like a trope rather than a narrative device.

As Coley navigates her new life, she encounters Sonya (Myra Molloy), the quintessential ‘girl next door’—charming and radiant, but shackled to her boyfriend, Trenton. Their instant connection dances precariously between friendship and something more, as they whisper sweet nothings and entangle their legs in a manner that invokes the awkwardness and excitement of first love.

Visual Aesthetics and Script Issues

Kiyoko’s signature style from her music videos translates into her film through an over-saturated colour palette, reminiscent of warm Instagram filters that evoke nostalgia. The visual choices are striking, yet they often overshadow the storytelling. The film’s earnest attempts at realism—complete with overlapping dialogue and spontaneous shots—fall flat against a script that leans heavily into trite exchanges.

Lines such as “I’m tired of running” and Coley’s uninspired retort, “So don’t,” exemplify a dialogue style that lacks depth and resonates more with the awkwardness of early YA fiction than genuine emotional connection.

Despite these shortcomings, Da Costa and Molloy manage to inject some life into their performances. Their chemistry, particularly during moments of tension before a kiss, captures the essence of youthful longing, evoking the thrill of a first kiss. Yet, the film’s overall narrative feels disjointed, as it struggles to weave together these poignant moments without a solid structural foundation.

Themes of Representation vs. Substance

Kiyoko’s motivations for creating *Girls Like Girls* seem rooted in an earnest desire for representation in the film industry. She has stated, “we need more queer stories,” echoing a liberal sentiment that visibility equates to progress. However, the film ultimately prioritises representation over substance, leaving viewers yearning for a richer exploration of LGBTQ+ themes.

As the story unfolds, the characters grapple with their feelings, but the film largely avoids delving into the societal pressures and complexities of queer relationships. Toward the end, Sonya expresses that her connection with Coley feels “wrong,” yet the film offers no exploration of why that might be, rendering the emotional stakes somewhat hollow.

A Missed Opportunity

*Girls Like Girls* aims to capture the essence of a formative queer experience, yet it stumbles over its own ambitions. While it is undeniably a film made with good intentions, it lacks the nuanced storytelling that could elevate it beyond a simple coming-of-age tale. The film feels trapped between personal expression and broader societal commentary, leaving it in an unsatisfying limbo.

Kiyoko’s directorial vision, while vibrant, ultimately fails to engage with the deeper implications of its narrative. The film, instead of being a celebration of young love, becomes a superficial exploration of identity that lacks the depth it so desperately seeks.

Why it Matters

In an era where diverse narratives are crucial, *Girls Like Girls* serves as both a beacon of representation and a cautionary tale about the importance of narrative substance. It highlights the need for not just visibility but also meaningful storytelling that resonates with the complexities of real-life experiences. As the film industry continues to evolve, it’s essential that creators like Kiyoko recognise that representation must go hand in hand with depth, ensuring that queer stories are not just seen but felt.

Share This Article
Ben Thompson is a cultural commentator and arts journalist who has written extensively on film, television, music, and the creative industries. With a background in film studies from Bristol University, he spent five years as a culture writer at The Guardian before joining The Update Desk. He hosts a popular podcast exploring the intersection of art and society.
Leave a Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

© 2026 The Update Desk. All rights reserved.
Terms of Service Privacy Policy