Girls Like Girls

It’s genuinely heartening to see how much LGBTQ+ cinema has progressed over the part 30 years. When the genre was new, most of its releases fell into a limited handful of storylines, which, though groundbreaking at the time, have since been surpassed by numerous other works that have moved beyond the basics. And that’s why the debut feature from writer-director Hayley Kiyoko is such a huge disappointment. The film is a rather uninspired throwback more typical of pictures released in this genre in the 1980s, making the material seem quite dated compared to more contemporary offerings. Even though this story takes place in a small town in the first decade of the new millennium – a setting somewhat less progressive than others at that time and certainly much more so than compared to today – it nevertheless comes across like something more akin to LGTBQ+ movies from years earlier. And, to make matters worse, it falls back on a lot of trite story elements and clichés, making this tale of young lesbian love look terribly antiquated. At the risk of playing spoiler, the film follows a shopworn formula for most love stories in general, albeit with a girl-on-girl twist: girl meets girl, girl gets girl, girl loses girl, girl tries to get girl back again. Consequently, it’s difficult to think of that as being in any way original, engaging or different. It also doesn’t help that the screenplay is laden with superficial dialogue, endless montages of cloud shots and bicycle riding footage that feel like padding added to fill out the relatively scant 1:35:00 runtime, and a few too many music video-style sequences (something not entirely unexpected, since this is where the director got her filmmaking start). But perhaps the most egregious issue for me was the utter lack of chemistry between the two leads in their attempts to overcome sexual confusion and forge a same-sex relationship. Sonya (Myra Malloy) is a flirtatious but confused tease who can’t make up her mind about which side of the fence she wants to put down roots, and Nicole (“Coley”) (Maya da Costa), the new girl in town, can’t make up her mind about much of anything, a problem made worse by the actress’s inconsistent, positively dreadful performance. Where’s the alleged attraction between these two? Indeed, how is anyone supposed to take any of this seriously? As a gay man myself, I’m well aware of the difficulty involved in coming out (not to mention coming of age as well) as an adolescent (and I did so at a time when it was far more challenge-ridden than it is today and even during the time frame depicted in this film). But its treatment here leaves much to be desired, and it’s a subject that LGBTQ+ cinema really should have moved beyond by now unless special extenuating circumstances are involved in the story (which isn’t the case here). And, because of this, I find it frustrating that there are so many other – and better – works of LGBTQ+ cinema are out there that never get picked up for distribution deals yet something underwhelming like this does (and as a Pride Month release to boot). Girls may like girls, but I find it hard to believe that anyone would realistically like this.