In a cinematic venture that many have eagerly anticipated, Hayley Kiyoko’s directorial debut, Girls Like Girls, arrives laden with the weight of expectation. Based on her iconic 2015 music video, the film attempts to capture the essence of a Sapphic teenage romance but ultimately struggles to deliver a narrative that resonates. As it hits cinemas across the US and VOD platforms in Australia on June 19, viewers are left pondering whether the film’s message of representation can compensate for its narrative shortcomings.
A Nostalgic Setting with Stagnant Storytelling
Set against the backdrop of small-town Oregon in the summer of 2006, Girls Like Girls introduces us to Coley, played by Maya Da Costa, a withdrawn teen adjusting to life with her estranged father following the death of her mother. This familiar setup, rife with emotional potential, quickly becomes a cliché as Coley encounters Sonya (Myra Molloy), the quintessential all-American girl trapped in an uninspiring relationship with her boyfriend, Trenton.
The film’s aesthetic is drenched in nostalgia — from Coley’s iPod Classic to the unmistakable soundtrack of Tegan and Sara. Yet, while the visuals aim to evoke a sense of longing for a simpler time, the dialogue feels painfully predictable. Lines like “I’m tired of running” and “So don’t” come across as contrived, reminiscent of the more forgettable moments found in young adult fiction.
A Struggle for Authenticity
Despite a promising premise, the film’s attempts at authenticity fall flat. Kiyoko’s vision seems marred by a reliance on surface-level representation rather than a deeper exploration of the characters’ lives. The narrative does not engage with the complexities of being queer in a world that often marginalises such identities. Instead, it opts for a depoliticised viewpoint, leaving the audience without a clear understanding of the societal pressures that surround Coley and Sonya’s relationship.
The performances of Da Costa and Molloy do shine in moments of intimacy, capturing the anticipation and thrill of first love. However, the film fails to delve into the emotional intricacies that could elevate these moments from merely sweet to profoundly impactful. The absence of substantive conflict or context renders their connection less meaningful, despite the chemistry they share on-screen.
A Missed Opportunity for Growth
Kiyoko’s narrative choices suggest an earnest desire to tell queer stories, yet the execution leaves much to be desired. Many scenes feel like disconnected vignettes rather than a cohesive narrative, with a lack of substantial character development. The film’s structure often mirrors a series of Instagram snapshots, where style prevails over story, making it difficult for viewers to engage with the journey of its protagonists.
The film’s climax arrives without sufficient buildup, leaving audiences feeling unfulfilled. When Sonya describes her relationship with Coley as “wrong,” the absence of context or consequence makes it difficult to grasp the weight of her words. The characters remain ensnared in their own world, with little acknowledgment of broader societal implications.
Why it Matters
Girls Like Girls represents a crucial moment in queer representation within mainstream media, yet it risks being overshadowed by its own shortcomings. The film’s struggle to balance heartfelt storytelling with the desire for visibility reveals a critical gap in how LGBTQ+ narratives are told. In an era where diverse stories are increasingly celebrated, Kiyoko’s debut serves as a reminder that representation alone does not guarantee depth or resonance. As audiences seek authentic portrayals of love and identity, the film stands as a poignant illustration of the work still needed to truly capture the complexities of queer experiences on screen.
