Hayley Kiyoko’s directorial debut, “Girls Like Girls,” attempts to breathe life into a nostalgic tale of adolescent love, yet it stumbles through a predictably dull narrative. Following the legacy of her iconic 2015 single, which resonated deeply within the LGBTQ+ community, Kiyoko’s film fails to capture the essence of its source material, leaving viewers yearning for more than just representation.
A Familiar Setting with Familiar Themes
Set in the summer of 2006 in a small Oregon town, the film introduces us to Coley, portrayed by Maya Da Costa, a withdrawn teenager grappling with the recent loss of her mother. As she relocates to live with her estranged father, played by a surprisingly jarring Zach Braff, Coley’s life takes a turn when she meets Sonya, brought to life by Myra Molloy. Sonya embodies the quintessential American girl—radiant and charming, yet ensnared in a relationship with her boyfriend, Trenton.
Their instant connection teeters on the edge of friendship and romance, as they share intimate moments wrapped in the innocence of adolescence. The film’s dialogue, however, often feels contrived, reducing the emotional depth of their relationship to trite expressions that lack genuine resonance.
Aesthetic Choices That Fall Flat
Visually, “Girls Like Girls” is awash in vibrant hues, aiming to evoke the warmth of bygone days. The film is drenched in a nostalgic palette that mirrors the aesthetics of an Instagram memory, yet it seems to rely too heavily on style over substance. From Coley’s iPod Classic to her AIM account—a rather forced reminder of the era—Kiyoko’s attempt to anchor the film in its time period feels heavy-handed.
While the cinematography hints at a desire for authenticity, the execution falters. The overlapping dialogue and close-up shots intended to convey intimacy come off as awkward rather than natural. Kiyoko’s ambition to create a film grounded in realism is undermined by a script that often veers into the realm of cliché, with lines like “I’m tired of running” lacking the weight they aim to deliver.
Performances That Shine Amidst Weak Writing
Despite the script’s shortcomings, Da Costa and Molloy manage to elevate the material with their performances. Their chemistry is palpable, capturing the fluttering nerves and excitement of first love. The anticipation leading up to their first kiss is palpable, marked by lingering glances that evoke the bittersweet thrill of youth. Yet, the film’s R-rating feels misleading; moments of intimacy are limited to PG-13 fare, leaving viewers wanting for more than just surface-level engagement.
Kiyoko crafts a series of charming vignettes that, while cute, lack a coherent narrative structure. The film resembles a collection of scenes stitched together without a solid backbone, reminiscent of a teenager’s daydream rather than a fully realised story.
A Depoliticised Perspective on Love
Perhaps the most significant flaw in “Girls Like Girls” is its lack of political context. Kiyoko’s vision feels constrained to personal experiences without acknowledging the broader societal implications of same-sex love. When Sonya expresses that her feelings for Coley are “wrong,” the film provides no context or reasoning, leaving audiences puzzled. The absence of external conflicts or challenges reduces the characters’ struggles to mere individual feelings, stripping away any meaningful commentary on LGBTQ+ issues.
This depoliticisation ultimately leaves the film in a precarious position, where it appears intensely personal yet emotionally hollow. Kiyoko’s focus on visibility for the LGBTQ+ community is commendable; however, it overlooks the complexities of love and identity that are essential to crafting a compelling narrative.
Why it Matters
“Girls Like Girls” arrives as a poignant reminder of the importance of representation in media, yet it underscores the necessity of depth and authenticity in storytelling. As new generations of viewers seek relatable narratives that reflect their own experiences, Kiyoko’s film highlights the need for LGBTQ+ stories that are not just seen but felt. While the desire for representation is crucial, it must be accompanied by genuine exploration of the characters’ lives beyond their romantic entanglements. Kiyoko’s debut is a call to action for future filmmakers to embrace the richness of queer stories, ensuring that they resonate with audiences on a deeper, more meaningful level.
