A bit of backstory: Love, Simon was already destined to be remembered. Why you ask? Because 20th Century Fox determined that their was enough of an audience for a movie about a high school boy coming out as gay that they gave the movie money and a wide release. Since coming out films are usually deemed arthouse (read: small and not making a lot of money), Love, Simon officially has let studios tell moviegoers that movies about gay people are a normal part of the mainstream life in the United States, which is refreshing and thankfully welcome. As a result, a lot is riding on Love, Simon being good. Is it? For me, the answer is 100% yes. I love you too, Simon (Nick Robinson).
The most interesting thing about Simon is his big secret, and that’s kind of it. He’s from a loving family with great parents (Jennifer Garner and Josh Duhamel) and a precocious sister (Talitha Bateman). He also has 3 great friends: Leah (Katherine Langford), Abby (Alexandra Shipp), and Nick (Jorge Lendeborg Jr.), to share coffee and high school with. Looking at the school blog, Simon reads a post about another closeted guy who is scared to come out. He starts emailing the kid, and Simon forges a connection with this kid, that might be more than just a kindred spirit.
It’s impossible to watch Love, Simon and not think of the best parts of a John Hughes movie. Hughes is the master of writing and directing movies about high school kids, finding ways to tap into what drives them to forge an easy connection with every audience member. Love, Simon just modernizes Hughes’s material. That feeling of being alive and being scared of your first love is still there, all these years later, but instead of going over what you’re going to stay, you go over what you’re going to type. Simon openly dwells on glancing smiles, or sweet comments from guys and imagines scenes of his internet crush as these people he thinks might be “Blue,” much like Jake Tyler wonders who answered the note in class about sleeping with him. And much like a Hughes high school, the teachers (a fantastic Natasha Rothwell) or principals (Tony Hale) are corny and don’t really understand you, and your classmates can be your best friend or worst enemy, sometimes within the same day. Someone can smear you with a rumor and just like that, you’re the talk of the school because of a blog post. What’s great about Simon’s life in school is how relatable his problems are to everyone, and how it’s so very easy to see yourself as him at some point in your life.
But what Love, Simon is going to be remembered for is its coming out story. Robinson wonderfully underplays Simon’s building frustration at a throwaway line here or a potentially missed chance at love there, and how alive he feels by his connection to “Blue.” By setting the movie today, Love, Simon gives us a splendid modern reaction to being homosexual. Simon is (maybe a little too) self assured in who he is, so he’s not worried about the news getting out, just that he wants to do it himself (sometimes via amusing Whitney Houston montage); this fear leads to a powerful confrontation with a fellow classmate (Logan Miller), probably the highlight of the movie. When the news eventually does get out, his friends are all pissed at him. Why you ask: because he’s GAY? No, not because he’s gay, it’s because of all the ways he had hurt his friends hiding his secret; his friends are so understanding and woke that they basically treating him like hurt friends, as they are. What Simon is most worried about is being treated like he is a completely different person, and watching him try to get his life back to some sort of normalcy provides a compelling drive for the second half of the movie. That second half gets pretty manipulative and pretty gooey, but you’re so in the tank for Simon at this point that you are willing to be taken along for the ride and hope that the dude finds some happiness with his love.
It helps a great deal when a movie has its heart in the right place. Not only does Love, Simon do that, but it also really put some thought into how relatable and universal a first love story is, regardless of sexual orientation. I hope Love, Simon makes a billion dollars so we continue to get necessary stories like these into the mainstream so some closeted kid from a small town that shows 2 movies at the local theatre can look up, watch, and see themselves onscreen for the first time and feel like they’re not alone.