A love story for the ages, an authentic vignette of teenage experiences, and a set of beautifully three-dimensional queer characters. Just a few accurate descriptors of the Heartstopper (2022-2024) franchise. From graphic novels to a TV series to a feature-film finale, the Heartstopper cinematic universe is a warm one we’re sad to depart.
But depart we must! Heartstopper Forever signifies the final chapter for Nick (Kit Connor) and Charlie (Joe Locke), after three seasons of a successful television series and six volumes of Alice Oseman’s graphic novels. Well, at least, the final chapter we’re privy to, as one likes to imagine that it’s just the beginning of these characters’ journeys together.
The TV series debuted in 2022, when Locke and Connor were 18. Although it received plenty of fan love, the online speculation about the sexualities of the lead actors wreaked enough havoc for Connor to tweet: “I’m bi. Congrats for forcing an 18-year-old to out himself. I think some of you missed the point of the show. Bye.” It’s a common pitfall online, where audiences want to platform and employ queer actors, but occasionally trade fluidity and acceptance for parasocial judgment.
Although under disappointing circumstances, Connor’s tweet does call attention to “the point of the show” in a smart way: it was always about embracing who you are, and not judging or tearing down other people. From 2005’s Brokeback Mountain to this year’s recent Cannes film The Man I Love, perhaps it’s better to have some imperfect queer stories told than none at all.
In the new movie, our Truham-Higgs friend group is back, looking slightly older and more mature. The issues tackled in the show’s three seasons make their reappearances: Charlie struggles to eat when he’s anxious, but has calls with his counselor to help keep him on a forward path. Nick’s fraught relationship, or lack thereof, with his father looms as a source of stress for him, in addition to his brother’s presence and his fears about the future.
In my discussion with the film’s editor Toddy Downing, he shared that the most difficult sequence to nail down was deciding how to open the film. “There was one [option] where Nick was just waking up in bed, and it was very quiet. It was very, like, European art film, you know, like there’s no dialogue for like three minutes, you know what I mean? It was actually quite beautiful. But also, maybe coming off the TV show into that might’ve been too much of a jump.” Ultimately, they landed on starting with Charlie’s nervous, yet rewarding speech for his head boy campaign, nailing the coming-of-age themes that encapsulate the rest of the film.
The graphic-novel origin of the narrative is evident in the somewhat cheesy (yet always authentic) ways the characters express themselves. You can picture a speech bubble and hearts around them as they gush about their emotions, and sometimes you needn’t imagine much since the filmmakers will draw the cartoon hearts right in the frame. Oseman wrote the scripts for the series and the film, and you can sense her intimate understanding of the inner workings of the characters’ worlds in both.
The visual doodles that punctuate the live-action footage help bring forth internal emotions in overt, external ways. Instead of voiceovers or verbal expression, dark scribbles showcase anxious, negative thoughts closing in on a character, or little lightning bolts around a pair of hands help us feel the antsy excitement beyond what we can merely imagine. After four years on the project, Connor and Locke’s layered microexpressions negate the necessity for these artistic add-ons, but the cartoons continue to offer a satisfying signature style.
I often joke that Heartstopper operates in a fantasy utopian landscape where everyone, and I mean, EVERYONE, is a part of the LGBTQIA+ community. In actuality, it’s a realistic representation of the ways that queer people find pockets of community and mentors to band together through shared experiences. Or, less consciously, they just feel drawn to one another. It’s particularly admirable the way the story centers romance but platforms friendship as equally important, if not more so.
Although serious, heavy conflict abounds, the Heartstopper world is overflowing with warmth. You know you needn’t stress; when one romantic pair fragments, their dear friends are there for them. When familial or physiological issues present themselves, our protagonists push through and grow together.
In a devastating deviation from the series, Olivia Colman was unable to reprise her role as Nick’s mom, Sarah. Anna Maxwell Martin does an admirable job filling her shoes, but that tender Olivia Colman je ne sais quoi is missing, particularly given the history we’ve witnessed between Nick and his mother, and her role as a supportive, guiding force in his life.
Despite the genuine effort and heart, one can’t help but miss the pacing and storytelling available in the television format. If I had my way, Heartstopper Forever would be a fourth and final season. Switching to a filmic format means cutting down subplots and moving at a quicker pace, which they manage to accomplish gracefully, while still offering healthy vignettes into Nick’s family, Elle (Yasmin Finney) and Tao’s (William Gao) relationship, and the rest of the ensemble. But it’s such an excellent world of writing that it leaves you curious, searching for more windows into everyone’s conversations and developments.
Heartstopper presents a group of queer people as so much more than just that. I recommend it to everyone as a unifying, compassion-building resource. Author Oseman told Vanity Fair that she gets lots of messages from fans saying the show “helped [them] come out, figure out who they are, find friends, find a community.” Executive producer Patrick Walters similarly said that he’s had conversations with parents of young kids or teenagers who’ve watched the show, “and their child has been able to say, ‘Hey, I’m like someone in the show,’ and kind of come out to them in that way. And that is the ultimate validation of the representation that is in Heartstopper.”
The cast and crew’s LGBTQIA+ identities inform their storytelling in a natural, non-performative way, evading the pitfall of representation for representation’s sake. Their lived experiences bleed into the way the stories are presented.
The feeling of being lost and uncertain about what’s next, and facing the pressures of expectations, is a familiar one for teenagers and 20-somethings. As Rory (Alexis Bledel) cries about the future’s abyss on her bathroom floor in Season 7 of Gilmore Girls (2000-2007), “Everything’s just ending, I just feel like everything is gonna be over. I’ve always known exactly what is in front of me, and now, I don’t know what’s out there.”
At a house party in Heartstopper Forever, Tara (Corinna Brown) posits, “We basically grow up being brainwashed into thinking there’s only one possible future. Going to uni, finding a career, settling down. No one teaches you that there are so many other options. Especially if you’re queer. That’s why I asked Darcy to go interrailing with me next year. Just focus on being human, and feeling alive.”
Gen Z does appear to be carving out unique paths, with creative endeavors becoming more accessible as careers via social media, and the current political and economic state of the world de-incentivizing parenthood. A recent study reveals that, “Only one in ten Gen Zers have had children at 23 compared with almost one in four millennials at a similar age.”
Nick and Charlie continue to bring up the widespread belief that teenage relationships don’t last. But in our sweet fictional world, where we’ve spent four years rooting for these characters, we get to see them give it a go.
Although it retains the familiar warmth of the TV series, Heartstopper Forever takes us deeper into the emotions, personal growth, sexuality, and ambitions of Nick and Charlie. It’s sad to leave their world, but this is a comfort saga you’ll keep coming back to. It’s just the beginning for Locke and Connor’s careers, as we’ve already seen with Locke’s role in the Marvel series Agatha All Along (2024), and Connor’s continuation of his heavily booked filmography since childhood.
Heartstopper Forever is a fitting name because it shall remain forever in our hearts. Cheers to more charming queer cinema!
Review Courtesy of Risa Bolash
Feature Image Courtesy of Netflix