#its so 90s anime in the same way a closeted queer teenager is straight

[yellowocaballero]

Trigun 98 really is the anime of all time. It did absolutely say "Here is the biggest idiot you've ever seen in your life. It's going to be four episodes until he does anything that is not blindingly moronic and it's going to be five before he says a sentence that is not a lie. We are now going to vaguely imply that he has a dead girlfriend and that's why he's sad. You will learn ten episodes later that the dead girlfriend is his mother. In episode nine a random man is going to call him depressed and they will spend the next three episodes doing absolutely nothing important but forming an unshakable bond of friendship, and we are also going to learn that they are in space."

What are we supposed to do with any of this. Insurance agents with fifty guns and one gigantic gun respectively are the only reason we have a plot at all. An entire episode's resolution only makes sense with information we are never told and barely implied. The main character is Jesus but also a deconstruction of Jesus. I feel like the show is giving me a rabid guinea pig and leaving me to wonder why this guinea pig is on crack before telling me three hours later that he's a robot guinea pig, answering no questions and raising so much more.

[zachandalextime]

Review: Heartstopper S1 (and some thoughts)

You might be tempted to just scroll past Heartstopper, Netflix’s adaptation of Alice Oseman’s book of the same name, assuming it’s just another bland recycling of the “gay tale as old as gay time” simplified for a LGBTQ+ YA audience.

Indeed, the series does fall back on well-worn tropes (spoilers?): “knight in shining armor fends off the homophobic bully”, “the misunderstanding at the party”, “I can’t fall in love with my new straight best friend”, and “in-and-out of the closet mismatch”, most of which I’ve written about myself, at times. 

But if you did, you would miss out on a gem that showcases stories and characters that span the LGBTQ+ experience; you would miss a delectable soundtrack that nails the mood of each scene, infused with a British pop/house vibe emblematic of the UK setting. And you would miss out on truly some of the strongest acting ever brought to the queer screen. 

The performances by the leads are nuanced and heartfelt, propelling a predictable plot forward by making the stakes of a high school romance and all of its struggles feel inexplicably... monumental. Which is exactly how it should feel, to a teenager.

Joe Locke plays Charlie Spring, our earnest and self-doubting protagonist. As the only out gay teen at his school, Charlie blazed a singular trail... into bullying and harassment so visibly severe, that other closeted and questioning classmates dared not follow, leaving him often hiding on the floor of the art room and being heaped with advice of questionable helpfulness by ally Mr. Ayaji (Fisayo Akinade). 

Joe inhabits his character masterfully, walking a thin line of the normally understated and quiet kid whose feelings for his classmate over time inspire a new boldness, and become nearly unbridled. The way he looks at his crush -- and only his crush, mind you, not the jerk he’s hooking up with at the start of the series -- is a genuine mixture of inimitable happiness, ingrained shyness, deep attraction, and measured hope. It’s the distilled essence of first love in a glance. 

The popular red-headed Nick (Kit Connor), meanwhile, gives a compelling performance as a confused rugby jock who is struggling to understand what he’s feeling (bi visibility!). Through Kit’s genuine portrayal, we deeply feel the weight of the forces and choices that pull at Nick; yet he makes it clear that the greatest force is love, and he is always able to do the right thing, and protect Charlie. Normally I would insert a PSA here that goes 

“don’t actually fall in love with your straight best friend IRL, folks...” 

But I’m now compelled to add: 

“... unless he’s acting the way Nick acts toward Charlie.”

He can be forgiven for his confusion; Nick’s journey of self-awareness is propelled at breakneck speed in today’s internet Information Age, for better or for worse.

The acting chemistry behind Charlie and Nick is so powerful that the little lovey-dovey cartoon animations that pop up during scenes of intense connection / infatuation feel like they were summoned into being by the force of will of the characters, not that they were added in post-production as VFX embellishments.

And so what if the plot is formulaic? At the same time, it somehow achieves a sort of timeless quality: this series is set in today’s generation of kids, but the same struggles and confusion and hope and love faced kids growing up in the 2000′s ... or even the 90′s (except for the reliance on smartphone drama, of course). 

Heartstopper is a good reminder that even in today’s age of greater LGBT acceptance, coming out (to one’s self, and publicly) is still incredibly difficult journey. As the pendulum of society and culture swings, acceptance of LGBTQ+ waxes and wanes. Same-sex marriage laws in the U.S. and the U.K. seemed like the final frontier, finally accomplished. Entire LGBT rights organizations closed their doors for good after that victory. Yet with the shift of the U.S. Supreme Court, and the next generation of Republicans jockeying to be the most extreme presidential candidates of 2024, odious attacks like the Don’t Say Gay bill and the banning of books in Florida and other states shows that the fight for acceptance, happiness, and love isn’t over.

I sure hope Netflix optioned all of Alice’s books and plan to renew. The world and the community need it now more than ever.