Love, Simon (2018)
Love, Simon (2018) was… mediocre. I’m not gay and I wouldn’t even know where to begin trying to understand how difficult it must be to identify as gay in what remains a not-entirely-homosexual-inclusive world. While I appreciate the premise of Love, Simon and its exposition on the twists and turns of being a closeted gay teen, I didn’t feel like the movie was relatable enough in all the ways that matter.
Right from the get-go, Simon describes his life to be like any other, with an exceptional family, a tight-knit group of friends, and an otherwise unblemished school experience. The truth - as I understand it - is that no one’s life is even remotely like that. Although Simon was keeping his gayness a secret, all was otherwise perfect - almost too perfect. There was no struggle, besides that of his sexuality. Every moment was set at a precise tempo that never deviated - breakfast with the family, picking up friends in their all-too-perfect homes, grabbing iced coffee from the cookie-cutter local cafe, then off to a school that related more to juvenile utopia than the jungle made up of unforgiving individuals that high school really is, or can be.
Perhaps if Simon was having difficulties in school, or felt this separation between himself and his friends and family, then I would be more inclined to think “Yeah, I can totally relate to this kid.” But there were no such struggles. I mean, his mom even hung mistletoe at Christmas in their immaculate foyer - where does one even find mistletoe?
But maybe that was all kind of the point - to show that everything can seem fine and dandy from the outside while someone is being swallowed whole by the secret behind their smile. Whatever the case, I don’t think of Love, Simon as a movie that I can grow attached to. I wish it had taken some cues from The Edge of Seventeen (2016) where the protagonist’s (Nadine) family was functional but far from perfect and her friends (mainly Krista) were often compassionate but also capable of selfishness. Now that was a film that had legs. I sat through that movie and cried quiet sobs of nostalgia as I saw Nadine experience everything I had at 17. There was no such moment during my screening of Love, Simon. However, I did hear muted sobs from others throughout the theater, so maybe I’m just missing something entirely.
There was also too much in Love, Simon that gave away the big reveal: who’s Blue? For one, Martin practically slaps us in the face with that awful joke of “What do you call a Black Jew? Bl-ewish.” As if we’re not supposed to pick up on the fact that the joke has a nonsensical punchline or that “Bl-ewish” sounds exactly like “Blue-ish.” And how about Bram’s name? What kind of name is Bram, you ask? Well it’s short for Abraham, a popular name in the Jewish community. So within the first few scenes of the movie, you already know who the secret gay pen pal is. This kind of gave me the feeling of “Well what am I supposed to do for the rest of the movie?” since I clearly wouldn’t be spending any more time wondering about the identity of Blue. In addition, there were a few sequences idly pulled from other theatrical pieces, like the whole “Meet me on the Ferris wheel” scene that felt like it was copied and pasted straight from Never Been Kissed (1999).
I really wanted to love Love, Simon. The casting was impeccable with Nick Robinson taking the lead, followed closely by the likes of Jennifer Garner and Josh Duhamel (their monologues were the closest I came to crying throughout the movie). I only wish the context of this film had been one that most people could place themselves in - an imperfect one, if only a little. Life so often throws us curve balls, but that didn’t really seem to be the case for Simon.