Hayley Kiyoko, celebrated for her musical contributions to queer narratives, steps behind the camera with her directorial debut, “Girls Like Girls”. However, while the film aims to echo the emotional resonance of her chart-topping single, it ultimately delivers a lacklustre experience that fails to captivate. With a backdrop steeped in nostalgic aesthetics, Kiyoko’s vision struggles under the weight of clichéd dialogue and a meandering plot, leaving audiences yearning for more than mere representation.
A Familiar Setting with Unfulfilled Potential
Set against the sun-drenched streets of a small Oregon town in the summer of 2006, the film introduces us to Coley (Maya Da Costa), a brooding teen grappling with the recent loss of her mother. Relocating to live with her estranged father, Coley’s journey of self-discovery begins in earnest. Here, she crosses paths with Sonya (Myra Molloy), the quintessential All-American girl—captivating yet stifled by her relationship with her boyfriend, Trenton.
From their very first encounter, a palpable chemistry ignites between Coley and Sonya, blurring the lines of friendship and romance. They share intimate moments, whispering “Olive Juice” to each other, a playful code that echoes deeper feelings. However, while the connection is set to resonate with viewers, the film’s execution falters, relying heavily on predictable tropes rather than delving into the complexities of their relationship.
A Visual Feast Lacking Substance
Kiyoko’s aesthetic choices are striking, enveloping the film in a warm, burnt orange hue reminiscent of nostalgic Instagram filters. Yet, despite the vibrant visuals, the narrative struggles to find its footing. The film is laden with heavy-handed reminders of its 2006 setting—Coley’s iPod Classic, AIM chats, and the music of Tegan and Sara—each element serving more as a gimmick than an integral part of the story.
Attempts at creating a raw, documentary-style feel through overlapping dialogue and casual shots fall flat, as the script often veers into the territory of cliché. Lines such as “I’m tired of running” and “So don’t” lack the depth necessary to evoke genuine emotional resonance. Instead, they feel like echoes of poorly crafted young adult fiction, detracting from the authenticity of the characters’ experiences.
Performances That Shine Amidst a Flawed Script
Despite the shortcomings of the screenplay, both Da Costa and Molloy manage to elevate their roles with sincere performances. Their shared glances and hesitant touches convey the thrilling yet nerve-wracking nature of first love, creating moments that feel both tender and electric. When they finally share a kiss, it is a bittersweet release that teeters on the edge of anticipation.
However, the film’s romantic moments often feel disjointed, strung together by a loose narrative framework that fails to build a cohesive story. The absence of more explicit intimacy—unusual for an R-rated film—leaves audiences wanting, as the storyline prioritises cute vignettes over a robust narrative arc.
An Emotional Journey Without Direction
Kiyoko’s film, while a celebration of queer love, becomes mired in its own idealism. The story is devoid of any substantial commentary on the societal pressures or institutional challenges that LGBTQ+ individuals face. As Sonya declares their relationship “wrong,” the film does not explore the reasons behind her sentiment, leaving viewers confused about the stakes involved.
Ultimately, “Girls Like Girls” presents a deeply personal exploration of young love but lacks the emotional payoff necessary for a truly impactful narrative. It’s a film preoccupied with visibility yet blind to the deeper complexities of identity and love.
Why it Matters
Kiyoko’s “Girls Like Girls” is a poignant reminder of the importance of representation in media. While it strives to bring queer stories to the forefront, it also highlights the necessity for narratives that go beyond surface-level portrayals. The film’s limitations serve as a call to action for future filmmakers to embrace complexity, ensuring that the stories told resonate with authenticity and depth. In an era where visibility is more crucial than ever, the need for nuanced storytelling in queer cinema remains paramount.
