Love, Simon (2018)

The representation of LGBTQ+ characters has improved significantly over the last fifteen years, spreading through a variety of remarkable films. Films like Brokeback Mountain, Blue is the Warmest Colour, Carol, Moonlight and Call Me by Your Name are all masterpieces in their own, unique ways and they represent excellent achievements in both style and substance. There is one thing common to these movies: tragedy. Whether it is death, a painful separation or a bittersweet reunion, all of these characters must bear overwhelmingly aching consequences of their sexuality. This does not take away from the quality of the pictures themselves: as I said, they are all brilliant and deservedly recognized as such, and the tragedy is perfectly coherent to the setting and context of each movie. Love, Simon is certainly a far less ambitious movie than the previously mentioned and it does not reach their technical brilliance nor their raw power. In its style and its execution, Love, Simon is, in fact, conventional: and that’s precisely the reason why it is great.

The film tells the story of Simon Spier (Nick Robinson), who is many ways the average teenager. He is attending the last year of high school in Atlanta. He is not immensely popular, but he’s well-liked. He has his circle of close friends: his two long-time BFFs Leah (Thirteen Reasons Why’s Katherine Langford) and Nick (Jorge Lendeborg Jr.), and newcomer Abby (Alexandra Shipp). His mother (Jennifer Garner), a psychiatrist, tends to overanalyse things a little bit and his father (Josh Duhamel) may be a little inappropriate in his jokes, but they are both sweet, good-natured people. One day, Simon sees a post on the school blog in which an anonymous user nicknamed “Blue” reveals that he is gay. Simon is stunned: he is gay, too, and he has not come out to anyone. There, under the nickname of “Jacques”, he starts a correspondence with Blue and their relationship starts to grow, but who is “Blue”? Is he the handsome, impossibly nice Bram (Keiynan Lonsdale)? Or Cal (Miles Heizer), the piano player of the drama class? Or Lyle (Joey Pollari), a flirty schoolmate who works as a bartender at the Waffle House? The situation gets even more and more complicated as a schoolmate called Martin (Logan Miller) finds out about Simon’s secret and blackmails him in order to get a date with the beautiful Abby.

Yes, Love, Simon is a teen movie. But that’s not a bad thing per se, and among the genre the film is a very fine example of it. Sure, the dialogue is a watered-down version of the actual language of teenagers and some of the supporting characters (namely the awkward vice-principal played by Tony Hale) are a little bit too sketchy and over-the-top, but there is no denying that the screenplay written by Isaac Aptaker and Elizabeth Berger is fiercely funny, genuinely cute and profoundly moving. The film flows beautifully not only because of the fine editing but especially thanks to the engaging, natural interactions between the characters and especially its delicate, fresh touch at handling the subject matter. Simon’s struggle to come out is portrayed through the general patterns of a teen movie which makes it accessible to anyone, but it is also depicted realistically and honestly enough to create a relatable, identifiable character and story. Greg Brelanti sets the perfect tone for the film, making it a light-hearted story but told with such an open-minded and empathetic approach it fills your heart. And there is an unexpected complexity to be found in certain details of the character’s characterization, such as the slight disdain and jealousy Simon feels for his flamboyant, out and proud classmate Ethan (Clark Moore), thinking he has “had it easy” in his coming out – something he finds out is not true in a quietly heartbreaking scene later on that is poignantly acted by both actors.

Speaking of the acting, it is absolutely essential to the film’s success. Nick Robinson gives a wonderfully charming performance as Simon, making for an endearing lead and beautifully nailing every emotional beat of Simon’s journey. He is someone you can relate to, feel and root for. And the other young actors share a genuine, believable dynamic and are excellent in their roles: Langford has perhaps the movie’s most clichéd character, but she gives a touching portrayal of her character’s vulnerability and her chemistry with Robinson is solid; Shipp is lovely as the fun, sensitive and understanding Abby; Lendeborg is delightfully entertaining as Nick and Miller does a very fine job at portraying the pathetic nature of an extremely unlikeable character. Other performers in minor roles stand out, especially Moore, the immensely charismatic Lonsdale and Natasha Rothwell as Simon’s sassy drama teacher. But the strongest performances come from Garner and Duhamel: Garner brings warmth and wisdom to her role as Simon’s mother and she is magnificent in her big scene opposite Robinson, giving inspiring power to her character’s unconditional love for her son. And Duhamel gives the best, more layered performance I’ve seen him give, nailing his character’s dorky charm and poignantly portraying his character’s transition from shock to acceptance. His tearful conversation with Robinson could have felt repetitive coming so shortly after Garner’s, but it becomes one of the movie’s most genuinely touching, emotionally resonant moments thanks to his heartfelt portrayal.

Generally, I try to stay objective as possible when reviewing, but in this case it is almost impossible for me. I’ve never found in my life a movie that made me identify with a character this much: I felt Simon’s struggle and feelings and relived mine through his. In Simon’s parents and friends I saw bits of my own parents and my own friends. Representation truly matters and that’s precisely why a film like Love, Simon is important. Because it will give to future generations of LGBTQ+ teens a film to which they will be able to relate and in which they will feel portrayed. And even though the film might not be a masterpiece, its social power and importance is enough to make it an admirable and remarkable achievement.

80/100