Heartstopper: Season 2
Based on: graphic novel of the same name by Alice Oseman
Created by: Alice Oseman
Directed by: Euros Lyn
Written by: Alice Oseman
I really didn't expect this show would maintain its quality into season 2.
But it did.
The first season had a really special, unique, plot-driven excitement and feel that depended on a specific character arc that could not be extended or replicated. Basically the whole season was about Nick realizing he was queer, and once he did, I felt like the show was.... done.
But it wasn't.
In fact, the second season dove right into a new, subsequent arc that I didn't even realize was the natural next challenge until the show presented me with it: Nick's process in coming out to his community. And as the season went on, I realized that I connected with this process just as much as I had with the first season. I was equally invested. The show had done its magic once again.
I find a few things beautifully done and unique about Heartstopper that are different from many other romantic stories and comedies. (Not that I've seen a plethora of romantic movies/shows.) The first and most important (in my opinion) thing that sets this show apart from very nearly every other romance story is... it's not about miscommunication. It's not about characters withholding truths, avoiding situations, or maintaining lies or expectations. There may be small elements of this, but they're never important to a plot and they're often resolved quickly. Charlie and Nick are honest to each other, and Charlie is honest to his friends. The show does technically revolve around Nick withholding some truths about his sexuality from his friends, but that's because he's not only figuring it out for himself, but also continuously trying to tell them or trying to figure out how. It's never about him intentionally maintaining a false image.
The next beautiful thing is how wholesome the show is. Many romance shows dip deeply into sex, one-night stands, promiscuity, alcoholism, excessive kissing, and even drugs. They place value on the orgasms, the flesh, and the temporary highs of relationships. Heartstopper, instead, takes a page from Miyazaki/Ghbili movies (if you don't know Japanese animation director Hayao Miyazaki or Studio Ghibli, drop everything and look them up), and highlights the everyday joys and pastels of general friendship and romantic relationship. Ghibli movies are known for depicting rote processes of average life: cooking in a kitchen, taking a train to work or school, talking to classmates, playing instruments, and making new friends. Admittedly, they have the unfair advantage of often taking place in the earlier (mid-1900s) Japanese countryside, which offer a plethora of breathtaking views and idyllic moments. But the way they paint these moments isn't dependent on time or place. They simply slow down and have patience with the time in between plot-driven scenes. They hover for a minute on the train station, painting the crowds of people waiting in line as the sun shines down, with tree leaves dancing on the wind. They draw the train wheels and building bricks with precision, detailing the inner workings to depict the mechanic or structural ingenuity. They capture the sky, background hills, or ocean with bright, shining colors, filling in spaces with spears of sunlight or birds flocking across.
Even while Heartstopper presents a completely different storytelling situation and artistic medium, there are some elements it borrows directly with perfect effect, because the original comic (aka Alice Osman) had the same idea, it seems, as Miyazaki. Just like the Japanese director uses spears of sunlight or background birds to convey a sense of great joy or passion, the comic uses stray, loose images of leaves, sparkles, and electricity to emphasize a moment. It's replicated directly with animation in the Netflix series and it's done perfectly. In the first season, it highlights moments of attraction Charlie feels toward Nick, representing his feelings developing. In this second season, it's more used to draw our attention into those moments of bliss and joy. It helps slow down the moment. While the scene feels like it's on pause, while the characters aren't doing anything substantial beyond gazing at each other, the camera focuses on their faces or hands, letting the viewer soak in the stillness. Instead of the actors doing anything further or dialogue taking up our attention, animated sparks pop from one's finger to another's, or leaves blow across the corner. It's only the space of a moment or two, but it's the perfect pause to help bring us in. To let us sit for a second, rest, and just take it in. To just exist and be, to feel with the characters as they're feeling. To let go of the rush, the action, the words.
And, when the scene ends or the episode ends and the viewer returns to reality, it reminds us to do the same in our own lives. Appreciate the sunlight washing over us. Let the wind tickle or faces. Love our friends for who they are in the still moments, not for what they do. Just exist and be, with the world, with each other, and (for me) with God.
This blog is getting long, but I want to mention one or two other beautiful things about the show. In addition to the lack of miscommunication and the wholesome tone, the community of supporting characters in the show serve as an extension of Nick and Charlie's own supportive relationship. No one is there to cause conflict or harm. (Well, aside of a few designated bad eggs.) Everyone who's considered a real friend is just that: a real friend. It's a small network of genuinely loving, caring people who really are doing their best to love on each other, respect each other, and help each other thrive. No one is acting, no one is maintaining a lie or false truth, no one has an ulterior agenda or means some kind of harm to another. It's so good, and it's such a break from other shows or movies with backstabbing allies or two-faced friends.
And this is a perfect segue to say that even with that beautiful, arguably-perfect community, the show never stagnates. Even with this atmosphere of great wholesomeness and characters who genuinely mean well, the conflicts are consistent, fresh, and realistic. (Take note, Hollywood!!) Much of the conflict arises from Nick and Charlie's journey to figure out what they mean to each other and from Nick's own journey of understanding himself. It necessarily arises from those few bag eggs I mentioned above, who are very often necessary in any story to provide momentum or conflict to push the plot forward. In the second season, those bad eggs were especially necessary, providing Nick reason to get the truth out, so they no longer had power over him to tell his truth to his community before they forced him to. The show also had natural, organic conflicts of friendships evolving, responding to various romantic interests or lack thereof, and navigating what it means to either become something more or remain friends. And all of it was executed perfectly.
I'm delighted to say that the show has renewed for a third season at the same time as its season 2 renewal. I'm once again mystified by how it could possibly retain its magic and very excited to see what it does!
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