The Familiar Yet Revelatory Charm of ‘Girls Like Girls’: A Love Story That Feels Both New and Timeless
There’s something profoundly comforting about a story that feels both utterly familiar and strangely new. Hayley Kiyoko’s Girls Like Girls is one such tale—a film that, on the surface, treads well-worn ground but, in its execution, manages to feel like a tiny revelation. Personally, I think what makes this particularly fascinating is how Kiyoko, both as a musician and now a filmmaker, has distilled the essence of first love into something that feels both universal and deeply personal. It’s a story about two teenage girls falling for each other, yes, but it’s also about the way love—especially first love—has this uncanny ability to make the ordinary feel extraordinary.
The Power of Simplicity in Storytelling
One thing that immediately stands out is how Kiyoko resists the urge to overcomplicate things. The plot is simple: Coley (Maya da Costa), a shy, sad-eyed girl, moves to a new town and meets Sonya (Myra Molloy), a bubbly, popular girl. Their connection is instant, and their relationship unfolds in a series of small, tender moments—biking through tree-lined streets, late-night chats, and poolside makeovers. What many people don’t realize is that simplicity is often the hardest thing to pull off in storytelling. It requires trust in the audience to find meaning in the mundane, and Kiyoko nails it.
From my perspective, the film’s strength lies in its ability to capture the headiness of young love without resorting to grand gestures. The chemistry between da Costa and Molloy is electric, and their performances are so nuanced that you can’t help but be drawn into their world. Coley’s longing glances and Sonya’s hesitant warmth feel authentic, and that’s what makes their story resonate. If you take a step back and think about it, this is the kind of love that doesn’t need dramatic obstacles to feel significant. The internal struggles—the fear of rejection, the uncertainty of identity—are more than enough.
The Mid-Aughts Aesthetic: A Time Capsule of Teenage Nostalgia
A detail that I find especially interesting is the film’s meticulous recreation of the mid-2000s. The production design, from the CRT monitors to the AOL Instant Messenger bloop, is a love letter to a bygone era. As a geriatric millennial myself, I felt a pang of nostalgia watching Coley’s computer come to life with that familiar sound. What this really suggests is that Kiyoko understands how deeply tied our memories of love are to the time and place in which they occur. The setting isn’t just a backdrop; it’s a character in its own right, shaping the way we experience the story.
The Internal Hurdles of Young Love
What makes Girls Like Girls stand out is its refusal to rely on external drama. The biggest obstacle to Coley and Sonya’s happiness isn’t a disapproving parent or a homophobic community—it’s their own fears and insecurities. Sonya, in particular, struggles to embrace her feelings, and her hesitancy feels painfully real. This raises a deeper question: why do we so often expect love stories to be defined by external conflict? In my opinion, Kiyoko’s choice to focus on internal struggles is not only refreshing but also more honest. First love is messy, confusing, and often self-sabotaging, and the film captures that beautifully.
The Role of Family: A Subtle Yet Significant Thread
While the familial dynamics in the film—particularly Coley’s relationship with her father (Zach Braff)—aren’t as fleshed out as the romantic storyline, they add a layer of emotional depth. Coley’s grief over her mother’s death and her strained relationship with her dad provide context for her vulnerability. What this really suggests is that love doesn’t exist in a vacuum; it’s shaped by our past experiences and the relationships we’ve had. Braff’s performance is quietly lovely, but I can’t help but wonder if a bit more focus on this aspect would have added even more richness to the story.
Why This Film Matters: A Love Story for Everyone
If you take a step back and think about it, Girls Like Girls is more than just a queer love story—it’s a love story, period. What many people don’t realize is that the specificity of this narrative is what makes it universal. The giddy thrills and crushing devastations of first love are something we’ve all experienced, regardless of our sexual orientation. Kiyoko’s film reminds us that love is love, and that’s a message that never gets old.
Final Thoughts: A Gem in Its Ordinary Brilliance
In a world where we’re constantly bombarded with stories that try to outdo each other with twists and turns, Girls Like Girls is a breath of fresh air. It’s a film that trusts in the power of emotion, in the beauty of small moments, and in the idea that sometimes the most ordinary stories are the ones that stay with us the longest. Personally, I think this is the kind of filmmaking we need more of—honest, tender, and unapologetically human. It’s not just a love story; it’s a reminder of what it feels like to fall in love for the first time, and that’s something truly special.
