WARNING: SLIGHT SPOILERS (NOTHING MAJOR) FOR LOVE, SIMON
I just got back from seeing the movie Love, Simon. You’ve all probably heard of it: it’s based off the best-selling young adult novel Simon vs. The Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli. It’s about a typical white suburban senior in high school named Simon, and how he’s dealing with his big secret: he’s gay. He starts a friendship online anonymously with another closeted gay boy at school, who goes by the pseudonym Blue. It’s a very cute 21st century romance, but with the drama of being blackmailed when receipts are being taken out. Read the synopsis. It’s intriguing.
The movie has been a huge hit on the Booktube community, with many famous vloggers and members getting to see an advanced screening. Such lucky readers, like Katytastic and Problems of a Bookworm, say that it’s incredible and extremely close to the source material. It was directed by Greg Berlanti, written by Elizabeth Berger and Isaac Aptaker, and starring Nick Robinson (as Simon), Jennifer Garner and Josh Duhamel as the parents, and Thirteen Reasons Why star Katherine Langford as best friend Leah.
I cried three times while sitting in the theater. I haven’t read the book yet, but it’s been bumped up a lot now that I’ve seen the movie adaptation. I can tell that the script is heavily based on Albertalli’s writing style, just with the way that Simon narrates at times (especially the opening monologue). No jokes are left feeling forced, and everything flows really well (even according to my girlfriend, who hates the YA genre and can be very particular to movies). Aside from how well this movie delivered, I feel a strong reason to write this article. And that’s because of this.
For reference, I’m a nonbinary bisexual twenty-something-year-old, and very passionate about the YA literary genre. That being said, this movie is incredibly important. It tackles the ever-present coming out and coming of age story, but modernizes it and brings it into the LGBTQ+ community. There are very few movies focusing on coming out, and even fewer that are actually good. At the center of the conflict is identity and sexuality, but the plot moves away from that and just trying to figure out one’s own identity in the big scheme of things: navigating multiple social circles, dealing with “hip” parents and weird vice principals, and coming to terms with the fact that “Hey, I like guys”.
One of the things Love, Simon does incredibly well is dealing with multiple identities and microaggressions that come with these identities. The most obvious is that of homophobia and blatant bullying between high school jocks and the stereotypical out gay character Ethan; it’s your typical slur-spewing, back-and-forth debacle. However, subtler elements come to light when Simon is officially outed: the vice principal has the two bullies apologize to Simon and Ethan when they go over the line, and the VP says something along the lines of “this is simply just two boys that call each other boyfriends”. This deals with the concept of believing when two gay men (or women) are friends, or even just within the same school or social sphere, they’re together in some fashion. The fact that this movie addresses slight misconceptions and microaggressions is incredible and makes the movie feel even more real than it already did.
Another issue that the movie dealt with incredibly well is coming out to one’s family. Often times, one of the scariest things to do (if one so chooses) is to do this: sharing something so personal to those you’ve known literally all your life, and letting them choose to accept you and love you, or shove you away. It’s scary. Simon’s narration (as well as Blue’s emails) show this well, even up to the point when Simon tells his family he’s gay. The first reaction feels incredibly realistic, with both parents taking the shock (or rather, unexpectedness of the statement) in their own personal ways, and then taking a second shot later on their own to talk to Simon about it. The first reaction resonated a lot with me personally, and it hit home immediately. However, the second time Simon talks to his parents–two different scenes, one-on-one–it’s really special, and why this movie is so extremely important to teenagers and the LGBTQ+ community.
Both parents have their own ways of talking to Simon–one from a professional therapist, and one from a not-so-masculine father–but they’re both heartfelt and accepting of their son. The mom tells Simon to accept himself, and let him finally know that he’s himself; he doesn’t have to hide or hold secrets anymore. He can live his own life; there’s no more pressure to fit a certain mold for society or anyone else. That’s the most relieving thing I’ve ever heard, and incredibly inspiring and beautiful. I started crying. Also, the cinematography for it was perfect: Jennifer Garner is looking right at you as she says it, telling all the questioning teens or those in the LGBTQ+ community that you are you, and you’re supposed to be you; nothing’s changed, but now you can live your own life with no restrictions. Simon’s dad had an equally emotional scene, where he apologizes for all the jokes that assumed Simon was straight (again, microaggressions), and is determined to make it clear to his son that he loves him no matter what. When’s the last time you remember a father role on TV or in a movie spend the time to say that to his son?
What I really love about this movie (other than everything) is how realistic it is. No scene was made to be emotional and force you to cry, but if the tears came, it’s because the scene resonated with you so much. In fact, there are scenes that could’ve gone in for the tearjerker, but avoided it: every time a very potently emotional line was given during the scene mentioned above (between Simon and his father), a joke was thrown in revolving around helping him make his 20th wedding anniversary gift (a running minor subplot). Everything was genuine, and realistic, and that makes these coming out scenes so much better. Two parental figures are telling you that you’re loved no matter what, and you’re still you. For every LGBTQ+ person out there who had a bad coming out experience, this is your second shot. This is your time to get the right one, because nothing’s wrong with you. You’re loved.
Love, Dylan.