Heartstopper: Excavating A Gem of Queer Healing and Celebration
A darkened room. Two boys, flushed with adrenaline, sit side by side near the windowsill. The tapering space between them sizzles with anticipation. A battered white Converse shoe shifts, edging closer to the pair of Black Vans next to it. Four yearning eyes dart everywhere and nowhere at once. Careful conversation weaves between auspicious silence.
“Would you kiss someone who wasn’t a girl?”
“I don’t know.”
A hand sidles to the closest warmth. It reaches across the threshold of confession. Two pinkies brush against each other. A crackle, then the ringing of a soft melody—cartoon flowers in pastel flitter around the boys.
“Would you kiss me?” One of them asks.
“Yeah.” The other answers. His tone is hesitant. Gentle. Expectant.
A pause. The boys meet each other halfway, eyes fluttering shut. The tentative press of their lips against each other fills the screen.
Downstairs, the thump of shuffling tunes and feet continues— only now drowned out by two heartbeats.
Such is the magical quality of Netflix’s Heartstopper, an 8-episode coming-of-age series skillfully endowed with rounded characters, whimsical animations, and hearty arcs that comprise its narrative. Based on Alice Oseman’s webcomic, the show follows 15 year-old protagonist Charlie Spring (Joe Locke) as he navigates the foreign and often bittersweet terrains of young love. In both his struggles and triumphs, Charlie’s path towards self-discovery intertwines with those of others in the story, creating kaleidoscopic junctures that offer an honest glimpse into desire and identity during one’s teenage years.
Spotlighting relationships— ranging from familial to romantic— amongst characters falling on the ever-expansive spectrums of gender and sexuality, Heartstopper presents a picture of healing and celebration— with queerness standing proud in its foreground
“There are so many aspects of queerness and queer love that no one has ever written about,” Locke mentions in an interview with GQ. “I want younger queer audiences to know that it's okay to celebrate who they are. Queerness is beautiful.”
While the number of LGBTQ+ stories in today’s film and tv are growing steadily— many of which call for special praise— optimistic portrayals remain infrequent; from Luca Guadagnino’s Oscar-winning Call Me By Your Name to Sam Levinson’s current hit Euphoria, one often feels the looming presence of grief and tragedy. Part of Heartstopper’s refreshing appeal thus lies in its deft maneuvering between the good and the bad, for it neither shies away from the joys nor throes of embracing oneself in a world where progress could at times feel stagnant. The show does not tiptoe around depictions of homophobia and prejudice, but it is vigorous in recognizing moments of belonging and unconditional love as well.
“I think, especially with queer shows, we have a lot about the bad things that happen to queer people. We do need those shows, but on the other side of the spectrum, we also need the queer shows that depict to younger kids that they deserve happiness,” Locke tells 1883 Magazine.
Another great strength of Heartstopper lies in its characters; they feel well-crafted in their complexity, nuanced in their traits and ambitions. A testimony to Oseman’s authorship and the cast’s performances, there’s something valuable to be taken away from each character in their fledgling encounters with the world— moments of both courage and comfort to be shared with today’s youth. As the central force which drives forward Heartstopper’s story, Charlie’s dimensionality is fulfilling to unravel; he’s an avid drummer passionate about Classical literature, a whirlwind on the track (but not quite so on the rugby field), as well as an empathetic soul prone to overthinking and self-doubt. Locke portrays his vulnerability and playfulness with the same amount of care; we see Charlie in all his elements, his cheekiness, sensitivity, and conflict-averse nature braided together seamlessly through scenes. His journey towards confidence is no smooth sail— as he struggles repeatedly with an underwhelming fling, bullies, and the strain of dating someone closeted— but these realistic obstacles only render his ultimate growth all the more sincere for young audiences.
“He’s just so full of love and so complex because he has his issues that he’s dealing with, but he’s just such an interesting and lovely person,” adds Locke in his 1883 interview.
Similarly, the character development of Nick Nelson (Kit Conner), Charlie’s love interest, remains a highlight of the series. As the school’s star rugby player, he defies the stereotypical image of a “stoic jock” with his gentle, open demeanor, embodying a parallel but equally important experience to Charlie’s. In reckoning with his bisexuality, Nick confronts the stifling effects of popularity and peer pressure. Although his pursuit of self-acceptance is empowering to witness, it also comes with the painful cost of realizing that sometimes loving oneself entails letting go of toxic relationships— however familiar they may be. Nonetheless, Nick’s hesitance in coming out only strengthens what his character represents— the unique, subjective quality of every queer journey that deserves to unfold at its own pace. “I wish I’d known then what I know now,” he admits to Charlie under the blinking arcade lights. But in watching Nick overcome his initial trepidation and confusion, audiences see the emotions for what they are— humane and normal. The earnest rugby player tells an often overlooked truth for queer youth: that there is no hard deadline to know who you are.
Within Heartstopper, community occupies another pivotal role— the impacts of Charlie and Nick’s story extend beyond themselves to a diverse ensemble of supporting characters. Yasmin Finney plays the sweet-natured Elle, a good friend of Charlie’s who, upon transitioning, transfers to a neighboring all-girls school. The show follows Elle as she comes to terms with her emerging feelings for Tao (William Gao), another indelible member of Charlie’s group and an ardent ally. Initially struggling to befriend her new classmates, she eventually becomes close with couple Tara (Corinna Brown) and Darcy (Kizzy Edgell) as well. The three not only prove a formidable trio but an uplifting take on female friendship, with their support for each other inspiring Nick’s comfort in his own desires. His courage, in return, grants Tara and Darcy the strength to face resistance against their publicized relationship. There’s something profound, then, to be gathered from the continued overlapping of each character’s aspirations and resolve.
“What appeals to me about teen stories is how emotional they can be, as well as the focus on growth and relationships and character development,” author Oseman explains in a Buzzfeed interview. Despite facing different circumstances, the show’s characters come together in support of one another, forming bonds that derive from a simple, shared desire for belonging. In a time when division feels rife, Heartstopper illuminates an empowering kind of queer solidarity that calls for recognition.
Accompanied with well-timed inserts of Oseman’s art, alongside a soundtrack featuring the pipes of Baby Queen, Girl in Red, Beabadoobee, and more, each episode makes for a truly pleasing audiovisual experience. The show also merits praise for its portrayal of adolescence in the digital age. “[In Heartstopper] quite a lot of the flirting and growing relationship takes place over social media, Instagram DMs, etc. And that is very reflective of the current youth and the modern-day,” Kit Connor tells Vanity Teen. Indeed, from excruciating triple dots and retyped messages that fill Charlie and Nick’s screens, to matchmaking schemes devised over group chats, Heartstopper’s dedication to capturing the day-to-day of Gen Zs reflects palpably through its details. In one of the show’s most memorable scenes, viewers even watch as a frantic Nick scours one Google result page after the other— in the hopes of pinning down a specific label for himself. While its endearingly nostalgic for some, and painfully evocative for others, Nick’s act of turning to the Internet for answers also prompts necessary reflection on the relationship between media and queer awareness.
Spanning moments that include rugby matches, kisses at the arcade, milkshake triple dates, and warm hugs upon beach rocks— the series pays tribute to queer experience at its most intimate level, serving as a reminder of the little delights that are to be found in the everyday. There’s much to praise about its tender, heartening approach to a love story of two boys with seemingly polar realities, as well as its inclusive casting and faithfulness to the source material.
The rise of queer media has only begun, and the future of film and television in queer activism is to be observed and determined. But in the meanwhile, I know what I’ll be doing— waiting with bated breath for more of Heartstopper’s healing magic.
