How Sweet and Wonderful Life Can Be: Returning to New Orleans, Day 4

Posted on October 29, 2022 by tclang — No Comments ↓

The only way to eat oysters in New Orleans, chargrilled at Katie’s.

On our fourth day here, the air continued to hang heavily, warm and weighted with moisture. But it wasn’t horrible as we took a short stroll through the Mid City neighborhood to Katie’s, our choice for the morning’s brunch.

Where Joey K’s atmosphere—upon first walking in—was immediately defined by a playful aesthetic with its bright, colorful signs that predicted an equally colorful and zesty meal, Katie’s initially presented an impression that we were in for some standard pub fare, unimpressive chairs and tables matched by equally drab walls, with only a brilliantly silver tin ceiling suggesting any semblance of a glimpse towards the amazing meal we were about to have.

Positive glimpses of the future remained elusive as we ordered their mimosa service: a standard bottle of bubbles served with orange juice in a disposable cup, accompanied by three empty plastic glasses for us to mix our drinks. However, looks—as with book covers—can be deceiving, and soon drinking mimosas out of substandard plastic revealed an alluring charm that pointed towards something altogether different, and Katie’s was soon to become a favorite place of all the places we’ll have dined at in New Orleans.

The royalty enjoy a view from a float during the second line parade.

By the time our chargrilled oysters arrived—shells piping hot, having just been removed from the oven seconds beforehand, upon which rested a mollusk drowning in butter, black pepper, and garlic, all served with a thickly sliced baguette to soak up all the guilty sins—it occurred to us that this is how oysters from the gulf are to be served: completely drenched in a ridiculous display of fat and flavor, chargrilled to perfection. If you have time only for one thing at Katie’s, then do get their chargrilled oysters. Absolute heaven!

We finished off our decadent brunch with soft shell benedict and crawfish beignets—the crab deep fried in a thick batter, legs gracefully curled beneath poached eggs that were untidily but joyfully immersed in a bright yellow hollandaise (“Doesn’t even need any tabasco,” we observed)—and felt thereafter immediately satiated and overwhelmingly and pleasantly satisfied, and so it was time to head to our next stop, Sportsman Corner Bar on Dryades Street in the Faubourg Delassize neighborhood (“This used to be a rough neighborhood,” our Lyft driver remarked).

This was the location of the start of the second line parade that we were about to partake in, and how much I can’t overstate how unbelievably amazing an experience it was to—once again—participate in this incredible New Orleans tradition, having first experienced it in 2015 the first time Amy and I visited. Revelers were already congregating in the streets well before the 1:00pm commencement, participants dressed mainly in street clothes while dotted throughout were the royalty of the parade, ladies and gentlemen dressed in vibrantly red, fancy dresses and blindingly white, trimmed suits, and they in turn were accompanied by the so-called “Mardi Gras Indians,” dancers decorated with tall, feathery adornments, as a brass band blared cheery music to glorify a celebration of intense happiness.

An enthusiastic reveler joins in the celebration by climbing atop a mausoleum.

According to the second line link I referenced above: “Historically, the African-American community began second lines as neighborhood celebrations. The neighborhood organizations offered social aid to freed slaves, such as loans and insurance, and used the second-lines [sic] as a form of advertising. Second lines were also used to honor members who died in their community, which launched the idea of second lines at funerals.” Additionally, this resource elaborates: “The term ‘second line parade’ refers to those who join in the rolling excitement. The people who are part of the hosting organization are the ‘first line’ of the parade while those who follow it along, dancing and often singing as they go, form what is known as the ‘second line’.”

Before the parade got underway, however, we naturally had to refill our empty hands with cups of booze, so we discovered a woman selling liquor and accompanying mixers out of the back of her faded red Chrystler. Aaron asked, “Could we have margaritas made with mezcal?” pointing towards some bottles with a golden liquor. “What’d y’all call that? Where y’all from?” the lady cheerfully inquired with a hefty laugh. “Er… Minnesota,” we sheepishly admitted and then quickly realized only tequila was available and not its cousin. Regardless, she served us up some drinks for the road and not before long we were under way.

Our hosts for this week’s second line (they usually occur on Sunday afternoons, this one from 1:00 to 5:00pm) were the Men of Class, one of the many social aid and pleasure clubs that organize the weekly second line. We were all accompanied by the brass bands Da Truth and To Be Continued, both performing gloriously vibrant music noisily and powerfully with trumpets, trombones, sousaphones, cowbells, washboards, drums, and cymbals struck by screwdrivers. Meanwhile, the royalty dressed in their blazing red and shocking white rode on floats while long lines of Mardi Gras Indians—wearing regalia embellished with bejeweled lobsters and headdresses adorned with tall plumes of red, blue, and pink feathers radiating outwards in an arc —danced in the streets to the cheerful music.

The so-called “Mardi Gras Indians” dance to the brass band music.

These parades are nothing short of a test of stamina for the musicians and the dancers, sweat bleeding through polyester suits, embouchures of infinite endurance producing music that never faded from anything short of uncountable decibels, trumpets blasting the highest notes of catchy, syncopated, repetitive tunes. We marched with the second line for a good two hours before we felt the need to have a sit-down (and we weren’t even expending that much energy compared to the other revelers), so we departed as the second liners continued on northwest up Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard at South Claiborne Avenue until they eventually would circle all the way back to the Sportsman Corner Bar. What an experience! What a celebration! What a tradition! What joy! What happiness! What bliss! If it isn’t obvious, this is me telling you that you must seek out a Sunday second line parade. It is uniquely New Orleansian and an incredible cultural gem that will live longer than time!

The parade slowly faded from view and the music became an indelible memory as we headed southeast down the central, grassy boulevard of Martin Luther King Jr., and we stumbled across Glady’s Bar. When we tried the front street entrance of the tiny establishment painted a bold red, a lady told us to go around to the side. So we did and we entered the bar, Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On,” playing on the jukebox, to discover we were the only white people in the whole place. We had surmised that this was going to be the case before we entered, so it wasn’t surprising at all when our assumption was validated.

While we enjoyed our drinks—the bartender gracefully serving us margaritas and observantly checking in with us when our glasses ran dry—so many questions and observations entered my mind. Was it okay for us to be here? Should we not have come inside? Were we invading a Black space that should be allowed to be completely Black? At the same time, I was so grateful for this experience so that I could see that Black folks do have Black spaces that are uniquely theirs, I just remain slightly apologetic if we disrupted a sacred space unnecessarily by simply being there.

The view atop Pontchartrain Hotel was quite lovely.

Moving on from Glady’s, we hopped from bar to bar down Saint Charles Avenue (but not before waiting underneath an awning of a First Horizon bank while a sudden and brief downpour deluged the city). Our first stop was Lucky’s—a 24 hour bar in a converted house with elegant woodwork and a dark, ornate, tiled, copper-hued ceiling where the bartender asked us, “Is well vodka okay?” which is Southern speak for rail vodka—and then onwards to Bayou Bar within Pontchartrain Hotel—a fancier establishment compared to Lucky’s but with interminably slow service even at the slightly more lackadaisical pace to expect in the South, our manhattan drinks arriving after several ages, a lady standing at the bar for several minutes before eventually just giving up and going elsewhere, annoying people from a wedding just milling about and taking up space, our snack of fried calamari pale and lifeless and soggy, something I’d expect to eat at a Red Lobster—before we landed on our last stop before dinner, heading upstairs to the hotel’s rooftop bar, Hot Tin.

Hot Tin was my favorite of the bars we visited on Saint Charles, as not only were the cocktails expertly prepared (one drink with a Star Wars name, Young Padawan, and prepared on time, no less), but also because its location on the 12th story (of the two elevators in the lobby, the one on the right seeming to have access to the correct floor) offered gorgeously panoramic and openair views of New Orleans. If you are someone who—like me— experiences intrusive thoughts where you feel you might lose control of your senses and just throw yourself off over the edge, you’ll definitely experience that here. There was a pair of two old lesbians nearby also enjoying cocktails, and I was eyeing a section of roofing sitting slightly lower and adjacent to our rooftop platform, and I jokingly exclaimed, “I just gotta jump!” I didn’t, of course. It was really a remarkable view atop Hot Tin, and I highly recommend a visit so you can admire not only an incredible view of the city but also of the wide, grand Mississippi River.

Soon it was time for our dinner for the evening at a place called Lula—a more modern establishment with tall, drafty ceilings that belonged to an austere factory rather than a restaurant, and the air conditioning was set to a temperature much too cold, and the restaurant served food that was impossible to remember. The only part of the meal I do remember distinctly was the tomato stack we ordered, served over a hot garlic shrimp boil with fries. All I recall was that the fries were damp and soggy and the whole dish tasted strongly of vinegar and nothing else, the acetic acid burning holes through all other flavors and preventing anything else from mingling into any semblance of a sensible palette to be desired. I also wrote a note to myself that I had the pork osso buco, but I don’t have any memory of eating it or what it tasted like. That said, it’s quite an accomplishment for a place to leave a clear, lasting impression, but one of easily forgettable ephemera drifting off into the voids of fickle human memory.

We also might’ve just been so incredibly tired after all the excitement of the day, the second line parade a real highlight of not only this day but of our whole week. Indeed, it was precisely 8:21 when we left Lula to head home, old and drunk, feeling the aches and pains of middle age. And while we felt we ended the day on a dud, this was not a portent of doom to come as tomorrow we were to have quite a memorable day indeed!

Stray observations:

While we were on the second line, we happened to spot Steven, the resident heartthrob from Verret’s Bar who we met on day 2, also partaking in the festivities.
We also got to witness a small second line parade celebrating a wedding while atop Hotel Pontchartrain at Hot Tin, reminding us that second lines can happen anywhere and at any time and practically for any reason.

What I Find Is Pleasing: Returning to New Orleans, Day 3

Posted on October 21, 2022 by tclang — No Comments ↓

Inside Vessel, a church now used as a restaurant.

The beautiful weather in New Orleans continued unabated on our third day (highs in the mild 80s accompanied by a sleepy Southern breeze), so we enjoyed a brunch at a neat place just a block away from our AirBnB, Vessel. The restaurant exists in a converted Lutheran church from 1914, and its high, vaulted ceilings are adorned with wide, sturdy, wooden joists modeled after a ship’s hull (or so their website indicates). All of the stained glass is also still intact, and so the bottles of their diverse collection of spirits and wine shimmer as the warm, kaleidoscopic sunlight filters through the windows.

We weren’t able to eat inside and marvel at the interior as only outdoor seating was available, but the outdoor pavilion was still equally inviting as was our handsome waiter, Adam. Amy began her morning with a paloma and I with a bloody mary that was nice and spicy without overpowering all the other layers of flavor, and it was garnished with the usual pickled okra. So yummy!

For our mains, I enjoyed chicken and waffles (so crispy, so flavorful, so Southern) while Amy enjoyed jumbo shrimp and grits and Aaron eggs benedict with biscuits and gravy. I had a second bloody mary while Amy enjoyed a Pimm’s cup, and our other server commented with a wink, “Gin makes you sin!” to which Amy playfully retorted, “Well, we are in a church!”

We caught a glimpse of the Pitot House on our walk to the sculpture garden; it’s a colonial Creole country house

In short, Vessel was a real highlight of all the brunches we’ve had so far, and I highly recommend a visit to enjoy not only the amazing food and friendly service but also its unique procurement and reinvention of a holy space, as befits feasts that could very well be prepared for gods and not mere mortals!

We next decided to take a lazy stroll underneath the pleasantly warm New Orleanian sun towards Saint Louis Cemetery No. 3. Our walk took us through quieted, sleepy neighborhoods, northeast along Scott Street, then southeast along Dumaine, and then northeast across the Bayou St. John by way of the Magnolia Bridge, a rigidly severe structure of giant iron beams pierced with sturdy rivets and painted a playful sky blue. Where we Yankees may all it a creek or pond, a bayou is a marshy outlet of a lake or river, and as we were crossing the bridge, we encountered a man catching fish from it: “That’s a gar we saw swimming there, and they can get up to six feet long,” he remarked with a pleasantly melodic drawl as a streak of dark grey drifted delicately through the waters like a giant, slimy, gooey ribbon, “But catfish are half alligator and difficult to kill, and in the Mississippi they can get to be 120 pounds. So that’s why I’m trying to catch some perch.” We wished him luck as we departed, hopeful that his encyclopedic knowledge of fish would help him snare the perfect filet.

St. Lous Cemetery No. 3 isn’t as old as it looks.

Not before long, we arrived at St. Louis No. 3. Outwardly, the cemeteries here appear ancient—crumbling mausoleums shimmering white lined up in long, long rows counterpointed by newer, granite columbariums standing as tall sentries amongst the dead—but many cemeteries here date from only the 1850s, and most of its residents lived in the 20th and 21st centuries. Regardless, they are still fascinating places to visit. St. Louis No 3 is a particularly long and narrow space, barely managing 400 feet wide while endlessly stretching northeast about a half mile. It also has wider alleyways than most other cemeteries here, whole motorcades able to drift comfortably within its lanes. While I did enjoy visiting this particular cemetery (and keep in mind my attention span for places like these is about 23 minutes), you may want to visit the smaller, more cramped cemeteries like St. Louis No. 1 to immerse yourself in a more intimate, claustrophobic visitation.

We next made our way past the New Orleans Museum of Art (a tall, stately building inspired by ancient Roman design) via Lelong Drive (a grand, elegant boulevard lined with what I believe were crepe myrtle trees, all overflowing with seed pods resembling acorns, while blindingly white egrets congregated in the grass) and then onwards to the Sydney and Walda Besthoff Sculpture Garden. Where Minneapolis’s own sculpture garden is an austere, uninviting graveyard devoid of its previous charm following its perplexing 2017 redesign that makes you think of the flatlands of Kansas except with some bits of red-painted metal sticking out of the ground, arranged sharply and jaggedly, the Besthoff garden is exceptionally superior: narrow, brick walkways shrouded in mysterious pines, magnolias, and oaks; elegant statues of beautifully fertile women and chiseled, athletic men tucked away in small alcoves of shrubbery; and elegant reflecting ponds, motionless and still, as smooth as polished glass. I really enjoyed visiting the Besthoff garden last time I was here, and I’m glad that we strolled through it again this time around. I highly recommend a visit, especially if you need a quiet, meditative place to reconcile the numerous sinful dinners and countless unholy drinks you no doubt will have consumed by your third day here.

A characteristic walkway in the Besthoff Sculpture Garden.

We next made our way towards Cafe du Monde (the one located right near the sculpture garden). Everyone always writes home about Cafe du Monde, and I honestly don’t understand what the fuss is about. We didn’t visit one last time in 2015, and we only went this time in 2022 to just say that we went. Their coffee isn’t anything special, the servers are all annoyed and tired, and their beignets are satirical travesties of the genuine article—flat and crumpled and unimaginatively tossed into a paper bag as if disposing of shriveled corpses in a communal grave. Just don’t go and instead visit a Cafe Beignet instead (more about that on day 6).

We had a 4:30 appointment for a cocktail tour with Cajun Encounters Tour Company, specifically their Legends and Spirits Cocktail Tour, so we made our way back to the French Quarter via streetcar down Canal. We arrived at their office on Decatur Street at Saint Philip and were checked in by a lady who lived through one Minnesota winter in White Bear Lake (“Worst thing that ever happened to me!” she playfully remarked).

We soon were off with our tour guide, Jason, leading the way. Jason had a peculiar mode of speech, haltingly deadpan with a feigned tone of disinterest. It was distracting at first but then eventually just a quirk. We enjoyed four stops total on our trip, and our first stop brought us to Molly’s Irish Pub, where we learned about the Irish immigrants who moved to New Orleans from New York and brought with them their coffee. However, drinking piping hot coffee in the summer months of the sweltering New Orleans heat was uncomfortably untenable, so they invented frozen, blended coffees with a consistency resembling chocolate malts, dressed up with booze, because when in New Orleans do as the Irish do, apparently. These coffees were so amazingly delightful and so much better than the frozen monstrosities that Cafe du Monde serves up, so do stop by Molly’s without hesitation.

Inside Molly’s where you *must* try their frozen coffees.

As we were sipping our delightful potables, we also learned from Jason that Molly’s Irish Pub was named after a kitty named Molly who visited the pub. I would like to think that Molly herself also enjoyed frozen coffees, but that might just be a little too ridiculous. The pub also had numerous uniform badges from first responders affixed to the walls, as Molly’s was one of the first bars to reopen following Hurricane Katrina and so therefore served the responders much deserved refreshments. Molly’s is also independently owned and so isn’t beholden to demands from a giant distributor, so they get to pour whatever the hell they want.

We next made our way down Bourbon Street, that infamous avenue known for its loud debauchery and its excessively intoxicated frequenters. And at about 5:00pm on a Saturday, the street lived up to its reputation, a giant block party forming right outside Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop Bar, some of the revelers dressed in fancy pirates’ regalia, Blondie’s “Heart of Glass” blaring loudly and anachronistically. Built between 1722-1732, the structure that houses Blacksmith Shop Bar is apparently the oldest building in the United States to be used as a bar and is lit entirely and dimly by candlelight.

Since there was quite a hubbub inside and outside the Blacksmith Shop, we instead went to the neighboring Lafitte Hotel and Bar, both locations affiliated with the other. The drink we enjoyed here was the famous Hurricane, a fruity rum concoction invented during World War II. While the drink itself was created at a bar called Pat O’Brien’s, Jason told us that Blacksmith makes the best version of the drink, as they use real passion fruit juice. Jason also told us that Lafitte gets its name from real-life Jean Lafitte, a pirate from the late 18th and early 19th centuries. He was well-connected and supplied the U.S. with gun powder, flint, and troops to help defeat the British in battle in 1814 at the mouth of the Mississippi.

This apartment building is adorned with galleries, not balconies.

We next waded our way through the revelers of Bourbon Street past the reportedly oldest gay bar in the U.S., Cafe Lafitte in Exile, then off Bourbon down Dumaine where at address number 632 Jason pointed out a dilapidated house painted olive green that was used as a location in Interview with the Vampire. We also marveled at all the surrounding ornate wrought iron balconies and learned that balconies supported by equally ornate legs are actually called galleries.

Soon we were at our third stop, Pirates Alley Cafe, located on, naturally enough, Pirates Alley, where William Faulkner wrote his first novel, Soldier’s Pay. It was here where we got to enjoy real absinthe prepared as it should be: pour a modest amount of absinthe into a glass; then place a flat, slotted absinthe spoon on top of the glass followed by a sugar cube on top of that; then patiently drip water onto the sugar cube until it dissolves completely through the spoon and then serve. For the uninitiated, absinthe tastes severely of black liquorice due to the preponderance of anise. I generally strongly dislike black liquorice (it’s one of maybe three things I refuse to eat), but for some reason when the flavor is in alcohol form it is bitingly welcome and penetratingly spikey, awakening bitter demons and flighty fairies.

Our tour was concluding fast, so we made our way towards MRB past old apartments that sell for over $1 million and that are so old that the only way out onto the galleries is through the window and not a door. When we arrived at MRB, we enjoyed Pimm’s Cups amongst a rowdy crowd spectating an intensely close game of college football, the winning team dramatically breaking the tied score with a field goal with two seconds left on the clock, the entire bar erupting in primordial whoops that would make apes proud. There were also two individuals from Kent, England on our tour who had no idea what was happening during the game. Later on, we talked about our travels together but as our discussions continued, it was clear that they were grotesque supporters of the Tories and called those who wear masks “brain washed.” We tried the best we could to steer the conversation away from politics before we bid each other farewell.

While we enjoyed tasting the various cocktails on our tour with Jason and while his stories were interesting, I’m not sure if I’d recommend booking a ticket for yourself. While the tickets were modestly priced, it was only because the drinks weren’t included. Instead, cocktails weren’t even pre-made before you arrived at each stop, so you had to order and pay for your drinks at the bar when you arrived which took up too much time as we waited for everyone to get settled. That said, it was still pretty fun, just not something I can in good conscience recommend.

We eventually needed to make our way towards the Tremé neighborhood for dinner, but we had time to spare, so we explored Frenchman Street, renowned for its live music. We stopped by Favela Chic, an unassuming, open space with brightly painted murals on its walls and a raised stage capable of comfortably fitting four performers, in this case the New Orleans Rug Cutters, whose classic jazz from the early 20th century was performed with a careful delicacy but with a relaxed precision that invited the body to move smoothly and gracefully.

Enjoying some jazz with the New Orleans Rug Cutters at Favela Chic.

We decided to walk from Favela Chic to Gabrielle Restaurant, the air warm, thick, and dense with a weighted moisture. It ended up being about a 40 minute walk down Esplanade Avenue where we could marvel at fancy, grand, palatial houses with tall split pane windows and opulent fountains and then down North Rocheblave Street, a street in much disrepair, trapping sand and muck in shoes with open toes.

Gabrielle Restaurant itself was… fine? I guess? Something else I wouldn’t write home about, I suppose. Not bad, just not mind bendingly memorable. The service was inviting and friendly, the walls adorned smartly with posters of jazz festivals of years past, but the cocktails didn’t really stand out as anything new or special, and their reinvention of the jambalaya was uninspired. We also got a goat cheese salad, a shrimp pie, and a dungeness crab bisque, and I just don’t have any words to recall any memories of eating any of this. And I usually don’t have a problem with finding the right words, as this 2500 word blog post attests.

The only thing that was particularly memorable about Gabrielle Restaurant was this distracting table that had sat at it an old, white-haired man in a smart suit accompanied by three, young, beautiful women, wide eyed and smiling. Aaron’s favorite game at restaurants is to figure out everyone’s stories, and this table provided an exceptional challenge. Was the old man hiring these women for sex? Was he interviewing them as applicants to join his private sex worker operation? Were they his grandchildren? Were they trying to swindle him for money in his will before he died? We just didn’t know and couldn’t figure it out.

And so, with that, we took a Lyft back to our AirBnB in Mid City and called it a day. But we really were just getting started, as so many more adventures awaited us still.

Just one stray observation:

On our ride on the streetcar to the cocktail tour, the streetcar operator was clearly asleep at the, er, buttons and levers as he missed two or three stops even after repeated requests from several riders and a woman in the back yelling out, “Back door! Back door!” She finally did get off, but three stops too late, and I remarked to her, “Maybe it’s his first day,” to which she replied, “I’ve known this driver for six years!” and then exasperatedly called out, “Shame on you!” as she stepped off the streetcar.

Fever All through the Night: Returning to New Orleans, Day 2

Posted on October 17, 2022 by tclang — No Comments ↓

We wanted to explore more parts of the city outside of the French Quarter, so we made our way via streetcar to Joey K’s, a Creole restaurant in the Garden District. While the streetcars generally are a joy to ride, the schedules aren’t necessarily always very reliable. We needed to connect with the number 12 near the French Quarter after riding the 47, but the 12 never came, so we elected to hire a Lyft instead, and so we were treated to a wonderful ride with a gentleman called Mauricio who was from São Paulo, and we all bonded over our love of travel and how it really does broaden the mind and help you appreciate this giant human family and all our traditions, languages, and cultures.

When we arrived at Joey K’s, we immediately felt we hit gold, so do go out of your way to enjoy this place. Outwardly, it’s an unassuming place that you might just walk by, painted in a forgettable green that’s more light-brown than anything, lined outside with modest wooden tables and red umbrellas, but upon arriving inside you’re at once greeted by the most friendliest staff, everyone delightfully cheerful, a reflection of the various colorful signs posted throughout, one reading in a bold white, “Joey K’s Red Beans and Rice,” against a vibrant red background adorned with white stars and green circles.

Seated outside, we started with an order of fried green tomatoes, because—of course—”When in Rome, do as the New Orleanians do,” as I think they say. There are certain foods that are only done properly in the South, and fried green tomatoes is one of them: here they were delectably zesty and lightly breaded and fried to a delicate and pleasing chestnut hue. We also enjoyed with our tomatoes some bloody mary drinks and Pimm’s cups, the former served complete with pickled okra.

We also ordered some deep fried oysters as well, as we surmised that the heavier, mealier variety down South might taste better when prepared that way. And while this mode of preparation did help (don’t forget to smother it in lemon juice or horseradish), hints of the oily, abused waters of the gulf still imbued the experience with a depressed reminder of how horrible humans can be.

Go to Verret’s Lounge for a taste of unedited local culture.

Later on as our mains arrived (fried catfish for Aaron and me and Joey K’s combo of a shrimp and beef po boy with red beans and rice and jambalaya for Amy, all expertly prepared with that Southern flare of seasoned charm, peppery beauty, and savory elegance), we remarked to our server how lovely the weather was, and she observed, “This is actually pretty temperate. Normally it’s much warmer, so we’re quite lucky right now.” So, we decided to take advantage of the mild, 80-degree weather by riding around on some Blue Bikes, a bike share program around town where you can unlock publicly parked electric bikes with an app on your phone.

I frequently remark, even when not traveling, that there’s nothing like feeling more connected to a city and its neighborhoods than when exploring it on bike or foot. And that remains true here. While I can’t remember our route exactly, we rode our bikes through the 11th Ward, the Lower Garden District, and Fausbourg Delassize, while tracing the boundaries of the Warehouse District and Central City. Some of these areas were quiet and sleepy as we rode past iconic New Orleans shotgun style houses with tall windows and functional shutters, while other areas closer to St. Charles Avenue were alive and bustling, heavy with traffic and ornamented with the resonating bell chimes of the streetcars.

Feeling a bit thirsty, we decided to visit a local bar called Verret’s Lounge, a place hazily lit with dingy red lights and staffed by an impossibly smiley bartender named Kieth who had a missing tooth and wore a six inch knife in his belt and who had a bachelor’s degree in culinary arts. The lounge’s walls were adorned with memorabilia including a wooden sign that read, “Happiness is ‘sex’ and ‘a hole in one’ and ‘Coor’s Beer’,” which kept us wondering why three of the items in the list were on quotations. Everyone who came to the bar seemed to already know everyone’s names, and if they didn’t, names were quickly established. There was also one gentleman who came in, sheepishly asked for a water, but a customer at the bar offered to buy him a beer. Later on, the water orderer began playing John Lennon’s “Imagine” at an out-of-tune upright piano, adding more intimacy to an already personable ambiance.

There was also an overabundance of trust and care amongst the customers at the bar, many of them frequently walking right behind the bar to grab a beer themselves. Keith described one such of the regulars, Steven, as “the resident heartthrob”: inconceivably thick and long chestnut hair pulled back in a pony tail down to the middle of this back, complete with gorgeous streaks of natural highlights from much time spent in the sun; high and chiseled cheekbones that you could sharpen daggers on; dreamy blue eyes that pierced and mesmerized souls with every glance.

For a small bar with only a handful of people, one might’ve also guessed from the outside that it was packed to the brim with baseball fans, whooping and cheering, as everyone was enjoying a match between Atlanta and Philadelphia, where the score (three to eight in Philadelphia’s favor), was quite an exciting set of numbers indeed! There also was one moment where three “home runs,” I believe they are called, were accomplished by Philadelpiha in under five minutes, to much boisterous and deafening jubilations, from those inclined to understand the rare significance of such events.

While we were enjoying ourselves immensely at Verret’s, dousing ourselves in such vibrantly energetic flavors of the local culture found off the beaten track, we decided to start heading towards the Magazine Street area where we were to have dinner at Atchafalaya. We wanted to have pre-dinner drinks, so we walked to the Bulldog, an invitingly friendly place with an improbably long list of beers on tap, valves of beers lined up behind the bar, tidily erect, as orderly sailors in a long row before they’ve been released on shore leave. I enjoyed a refreshingly bright pilsner from Great Raft Brewing, a local company located in Shreveport, while Amy had a fruity saison from Second Line Brewing, a company located right here in New Orleans. It was quite nice to mix up our drinks with beers, as so much so far had been derived from spirits, which is not a criticism in the slightest!

A chocolate martini at Atchafalaya is a great way to end a decadent meal.

Not before long, we arrived at Atchafalaya, a restaurant with a history dating to 1924 when it was opened under the family name Petrossi, by husband and wife, Sam and Mary. It stayed with the family until 1985 when Iler Pope purchased the space, renamed it Cafe Atchafalaya, and jumped on a trend that was happening in the 1980s: reinvigorating traditional New Orleans cuisine with a contemporary spin. Today, now called simply Atchafalaya, it is owned by Rachael Jaffe and Tony Tocco, where the restaurant continues to draw from traditional New Orleans fare while reinventing its flavors with modern twists.

As you might guess, Atchafalaya is a place you simply must enjoy while you’re here. It’s one of those places that’s classy but not too classy, it takes itself just seriously enough, is staffed by elegantly fashionable servers who give new meaning to thoughtful niceties, and that serves up delectably savory and flavorfully enticing dishes found only here in the South. We sat outside at the top of stair steps leading to a no-longer-used front door, as if sitting upon a dais for royalty, and I enjoyed shrimp and grits prepared with the whole body intact, eyes staring forlornly back at you. But don’t let the brainless corpses persuade you towards guilt but rather towards guiltless pleasure as you bite into the juicy flesh, expertly seasoned with layers upon layers of flavor with an alluring and lingering peppery heat. I found myself eating the legs and eyes as well, which added a welcomingly crunchy texture to an otherwise effortlessly tender dish.

Meanwhile Amy enjoyed gumbo and Aaron the duck confit (“A tad salty,” was Aaron’s only complaint), and we all, as if it needs saying, imbibed in more libations, enjoying their Atchafalaya cocktail: Rittenhouse rye, Denizen Merchant rum, Benedictine, Peychaud’s aperitivo, absinthe, bitters; a triumph for the senses, the taste of black licorice very much forward and center stage, lit up as the star of a cast of delicately crafted flavors. Our server, Heather Dawn (“Call me HD,” she requested), was also attentively watchful of our every need, never once straying from her genuine desire to serve up the most amazingly stunning meal with a charm and grace found only here in New Orleans.

The one and only Cyril Neville at Tipitina’s.

We concluded our decadent evening with tres leches bread pudding (a celebration of sticky, syrupy benevolence), and I had a chocolate martini, whisking me away to a world of tasty sensations that conjured harmless thoughts of innocent gluttony and sinless happiness. As if I need to say it again, do go to Atchafalaya. Because if you don’t, I shall be quite angry.

Our final stop for the evening brought us to Tipitina’s, a live music venue as iconic as Minneapolis’s First Avenue. We were treated to an incredible birthday celebration for the one and only Cyril Neville. A man with a long and varied career as a performer in R&B, blues, and funk, at 73 years old and on his birthday, he brought a lively and infectious energy to his performance that matched his blazingly red suit. While I must admit to not being terribly familiar with his music, this did not matter, as the performance was of a calibur that was unimaginably awesome while peppered with a modestly humble appreciation for all his adoring fans as they danced and whooped and sang, crescendoing the entire space towards an immeasurably joyous festival honoring and celebrating the music and life of an incredible man. I feel so grateful that we were in town to celebrate Cyril’s birthday with him, and what a treat it was to be a part of such an amazing experience. Thank you Cryil and happy birthday!

It’s hard to believe that this was only our second day in New Orleans, and we’ve already seen and experienced so much. Naturally, of course, our adventures will continue, incessantly unabated and tenaciously forward…

Stray observations:

Joey K’s is located right on Magazine Street, which is a delightful avenue seasoned with coffee shops, antique stores, and other charming boutiques. It was quite lovely exploring this area on foot.
While at Verret’s, there was a curious mason jar behind the bar and it was filled with a murky liquid containing what looked like the head of a fish. We simply had to ask Keith, our bartender, what it was, and he said it was atomic warhead candies soaking in vodka.
Keith was also filled with many other memorable quotes. Now sober, he gushed about how much he enjoyed a specific beverage: “Snapple Apple actually tastes like mother f*cking apples! I’m a b*tch for that!” (Amy tried the Snapple and she also concurred but perhaps with less colorful language.) And then later Keith remarked, “I got a great boss because not only is he not racist but I also slept with his ex wife!” He also enjoyed pridefully talking about his degree in culinary arts (as he should), but at one point he disparagingly remarked how he has a knack to create tasty feasts out of anyone’s poorly stocked kitchen, comparing himself to a specific animal that I won’t repeat here but you no doubt might be able to guess.
While we were tracking down the Bulldog for beers, three servers from Joey K’s spotted us and excitedly exclaimed, “Oh! Tom L!” (I had put my name down as Tom L because I noticed another Tom on the list of diners waiting to be seated.) “You were the sweetest table! Have a great night!” It just made us all beam that we were so memorable and that we also, in turn, made their days!

Living Easy, Loving Free: Returning to New Orleans, Day 1

Posted on October 15, 2022 by tclang — No Comments ↓

Enjoying sazaracs and an old fashioned at Mandina’s.

There are very few places in the world that captivatingly and resoundingly entrance me, enrapturing my mind and body in an eclectic celebration of the senses, enveloping my whole enjoyment of life in feasts of music and art and performances of food and drink, all while surrounded by a gorgeously colorful city and a warmly amicable people who are all just so terribly friendly to each other, in charming flavors and subtle nuances that exist only here in the South, in New Orleans, to be precise.

I first visited New Orleans nearly eight years ago with my best friend Amy, and we are both so excited to return, bringing along with us Amy’s partner, Aaron. What adventures we all will have together! We haven’t a moment to lose, so let’s dive right in!

We arrived in New Orleans by plane shortly before 11:30 in the morning, took a taxi into town (our Haitian driver tuning his radio to a talk station all in French, driving past the Greenwood and Metairie cemeteries on our way, both iconically cluttered with above-ground, stately vaults) to our AirBnB on Bienville Street in the Mid-City neighborhood, a quieter area of town located to the northwest of the famous French Quarter, a short streetcar jaunt on Canal Street seamlessly connecting the neighborhoods in classic New Orleans fashion.

Famished due to a mostly liquid breakfast, we decided to explore the area surrounding our temporary home away from home for some local fare. Google reviews highly recommended a place called Mandina’s, a charming place that began as a grocery store in 1898, opened by Sebastian Mandina, a native of Palermo, Italy, and is now an Italian and Creole restaurant.

I can best describe our experience at Mandina’s as one marked by promises fulfilled and expectations dashed. While the menus laminated in plastic felt like a portent of a disappointed future, the staff were nonetheless all terribly friendly and the bartender graciously attentive as he prepared our sazeracs and old fashioneds. Before long we were seated and our first course of turtle soup arrived, and it was delectably savory, its roux base satisfyingly thick and its flavors a perfect re-introduction to the zest and comfort of Southern cuisine. Our mains, however (calf liver for me and fried fish for Amy and Aaron) left much to be desired. Aaron described the peas on my plate best, “They look like they come from a school cafeteria,” lacking in any lively green freshness and instead appearing listlessly lifeless as parodies of peas, miniaturized and shriveled, while Amy and Aaron’s dishes wouldn’t look out of place at a fish and chips shop in London, except that it was all smothered in a brown gravy, depressing the fried batter into a soggy mass of pessimism and gloom. All of this said, the staff at Mandina’s was quite lovely, addressing us endearingly as y’all, and we remained hopeful that better fare was in our future.

We next jumped on the Canal Street streetcar to make our way to the French Quarter. I highly recommend you download the Le Pass app on your phone so you can buy your transit tickets in the palm of your hand. For $15, you can enjoy unlimited rides on all transit for a whole week (there are also daily, 3-day, and monthly passes). You also should just go out of your way to ride the streetcar anyway, even if you don’t need to, as the experience embodies a quaint charm of a bygone age.

Our next stop on our food and drinks tour brought us to Mr. B’s Bistro, a more upscale, fancier restaurant with smartly dressed bartenders and importantly suited men. However, the elegant aesthetics were betrayed by gruff service (which also betrayed my observation of Southern charm permeating the behaviors of all the locals) and a fully stocked bar that appeared disheveled and cluttered with disorganized wine glasses and bits of bric-a-brac strewn about in chaotic turmoil. Upon the recommendation of a friend, we were told to order a drink call the la louisiane, and when we did, the bartender bluntly retorted, abandoning any semblance of Southern hospitality, “Who told you that? We don’t have that.” So he angrily made us some vieux carre drinks (like the sazarac, another classic New Orleans imbibement).

We quickly retreated from Mr. B’s and made our way to the nearby Felix’s Restaurant and Oyster Bar. When I reviewed my writings of New Orleans from 2015, I raved and raved about the oysters here, but Amy’s memory was that gulf oysters were drearily disappointing, so we wanted to set the record straight.

I generally found the ambiance of Felix’s to be much more welcoming and charming than the misleading facade of Mr. B’s. Felix’s was decked with a sturdy bar of bricks painted white with a long row of classic, chrome bar stools. The service was also immeasurably better: “Wait outside, baby, and we’ll come get you,” “How y’all doing my darlings?” and “What can I get you my sweeties?” are sentences and questions you can expect to hear. Naturally, we ordered twelve oysters and three Pimm’s cups. “You’re making this easy for me! I’ll try to not mix your order up! But you never know, I might!” our server, Lynda, exclaimed, a lady long in her years who lived a colorfully full life, a wrinkled face that beamed with genuine sincerity and graceful joy.

The service and drinks at Kingfish will never disappoint.

Through no fault of Felix’s, however, the oysters confirmed Amy’s diagnosis. “Polluted with oil,” she remarked. Normally I enjoy oysters all by themselves, but I found myself needing to drown them in horseradish and lemon juice to hide the shades and hints of the abused waters of the gulf. The oysters down here also are thicker and mealier, resting on fatter shells, and requiring more chews than normal. So maybe we’ll skip oysters from here on out after all.

We decided to make two more stops before dinnertime, and I desperately wanted to visit Kingfish, a bar and restaurant I had fond memories of that served incredible Pimm’s cups. I felt I needed to be reminded of what I thought was spectacular last time around having struck out twice at Mandina’s and Mr. B’s, and Kingfish did not disappoint. It remained a classier joint—but not too classy—all the servers and bartenders dressed smartly in blacks slacks, white button-up shirts, and black suspenders. We took advantage of their happy hour and ordered two rounds of sazaracs, both rounds expertly prepared, the second order placed in at 5:01 (“We’ll fit it in just right under the wire,” our bartender mischievously whispered). We were also given some good suggestions for where to go next.

And our next stop was a little dive called B Macs, a place where you might be laughed out the door if you do order sazaracs. “Do you have a house speciality?” Amy asked the bartender. “No,” she responded deadpan, and we all laughed. So we ordered vodka tonics and gin and tonics and enjoyed them out on their large patio, decked out in gaudy but delightful Halloween decorations: fairy lights shaped like spiders in colors of orange and green, fake cobwebs, plastic skulls. They also played some really fun music (AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell,” Bow Wow Wow’s cover of “I Want Candy,” and “Time Warp” from The Rocky Horror Picture Show, to name a few), while another party next to us played a giant version of Connect Four while one of their friends snoozed, sitting straight up, undisturbed by all the commotion.

Do ride the streetcar, even if you don’t need to.

Evening was approaching fast, and it was time to enjoy a dinner, so we made our way to Gumbo Shop, an always busy establishment serving up not only gumbo but a variety of other Creole cuisine. I highly recommend ordering their complete Creole dinner, where you get to select dishes from four courses, and I elected to start with their seafood okra gumbo followed by macque choux corn, and then their combination platter of shrimp creole, jambalaya, and red beans and rice, and culminating in a celebration of the senses with warm bread pudding in whiskey sauce. Everything was just simply divine as our server brought out our meals and more sazaracs, all served up with characteristic exclamations of, “Thank you, my darlings!”

A long day under our belts (and belts the probably needed loosening following all our feasts), we made our way back to Mid-City to our Air BnB by way of the lovely streetcar that traces Canal Street. So much in one day, and so much more to come!

Stray observations:

Also while at Mr. B. Bistro, there was this suspicious old man next to us eating spring rolls who asked if he could also have ice cream. And the frustratingly surly bartender remarked, “Only with cookies,” to which I would’ve sarcastically responded, “Er, I’ll have a cookie and ice cream, then, but hold the cookie.”
On the way from B Macs to Gumbo Shop, we happened across two second line parades making their way through the French Quarter, complete with blazingly loud brass bands and impossibly spirited marchers throwing out Mardi Gras beads. Second lines generally happen on Sundays, but they can also happen spontaneously around town on other days of the week, usually to celebrate something special like a wedding.
I usually try to find some gimmick to titling my blog posts, so feel free to try to guess what it is this time! Once you’ve figured out the theme of how I’m titling, then try to figure out the source of the whatever-it-is I’m drawing from.

Heartstopper, Series 1, Episode 8: “Boyfriend”

Posted on June 18, 2022 by tclang — No Comments ↓

“I was thinking, what if I came out? I really want to. I’m definitely bisexual. And I don’t want to have to sneak around pretending we’re platonic BFFs. I want to tell the people who matter.”

As our final episode of the first series of Heartstopper opens, it is shrouded within the hazy, foggy, deep, dark clouds of unresolved conflicts from episode seven. Our friend group of heroes is broken and the two main conflicts of the series (Nick’s coming out and Tao’s resistance to change) have shattered and converged directly upon Charlie. As I remarked in my response to episode seven, the two conflicts of our series have been ignited by a singular cause: the bullies themselves. If they didn’t exist, then Nick and Charlie could carry on with their relationship and Tao wouldn’t’ve had a difficult time accepting Nick into their friend group, allowing Charlie to be open with Tao about his relationship with Nick from the very start.

But the bullies do exist, and so our cast of hearts of gold find themselves enmeshed in two bitter conflicts: Nick’s inability to come out because he is afraid of confusing and surprising people and Tao’s inability to understand that Nick isn’t like the other “loud, gross year 11s” that he’s associated with. It is really difficult to see how these amazing hearts of gold could possibly find a way forward through all the heartache the bullies have caused, but we were given incredible clues way back in episode three that assured us that our core cast of heroes will be absolutely fine in the end.

The moment I’m referring to is when Tara and Darcy are dancing in the ballroom at Harry’s party, they eventually share an impassioned kiss, and Nick looks on in amazed wonderment. I had described this scene as a moment that thoroughly, utterly, and transcendently transfigured my hope and optimism for a possible world that ought to be, because as Tara and Darcy kiss, the music of Chvrches’ “Clearest Blue” erupts to an incredible climax, the screen flares with a celebration of the colors of the rainbow, and Nick is lit in pulsing lights of the bisexual pride flag. These visual clues all point to a way forward for Nick: he is bisexual, and the only way for him to move forward is to embrace his sexuality as openly and honestly as Tara and Darcy do theirs. But this can be very scary.

And as scary as that is, however, the lyrics of the Chvrches tune remind us that—despite all the shrieks of the seemingly insurmountable odds of gross bullies, ugly bigotry, appalling injustice, and fanatic evil—it is brightest lights of indestructible hope, unwavering friendship, and enduring love that will defy these oppressive cruelties: “Light is all over us like it always was,” they emphatically declare. And the light of hope, friendship, and love is, indeed, all over us and will outshine the worlds of terrible bullies and bigoted hatred. But the tune continues on, informing us that it is a light “shaped by the clearest blue.” Earlier in this same episode, the color blue was used in the rugby changing room to represent Nick’s conflict of trying to live up to the expectations of others, and during key moments throughout the succeeding episodes, blue was used as a symbol for moments where our characters were caught in lies and conflicts.

But for every lie there is a truth, and truth was consistently represented in Nick and Charlie’s form classroom, always lit in bright, golden, sunshiny hues; and those warmer colors of gold and orange were used at other keys moments as symbols of strength, honesty, and hope, pointing towards a future that will get better, providing a vision for the way things ought to be. And as we’ll see as this glorious first series of Heartstopper comes to a conclusion with its eighth episode, “Boyfriend,” these colors—in addition to a handful of other visual cues—continue to provide us with those reassuring clues that our cast of golden heroes will turn out not just fine, but gloriously brilliant, and that light is all around us appearing not only as comforting reassurances of glittery golds and blazing oranges but also cautionary premonitions of frosty blues. But it is always the light of brightest shining stars that will outshine those depressed worlds of terror, and whole universes will erupt in celebrations of hope, happiness, friendship, and love.

But we still have a journey to make to arrive at that celebration, so we join the episode in Charlie’s bedroom, and it is curiously lit much more severely in tones of blue rather than the sunshiny hues we’ve tended to see it lit in. Tao has been ignoring his text, so Charlie begins loudly striking his drums causing much noise despite also wearing his headphones, which causes Tori to enter, throwing a book at him to stop, a lovely reinvention of surprising Charlie not by suddenly appearing and disrupting his visual landscape but by unexpectedly removing him from his own, separate soundscape. Charlie reveals to Tori that he still thinks that Tao and Nick’s separate fights with Harry are both his fault, despite Nick telling him otherwise just last episode. But it goes deeper than that: he also reveals that Ben made him feel as if he was ruining Ben’s life just by existing, and now he feels as if he ruins everybody’s lives since Nick is getting into fights, and we can infer that he feels he’s ruining Tao’s life as well.

This is another one of this show’s importantly meaningful moments that shines that hazy, dingy light on the dark underside of a messed up world. Because we live in a world that assumes heterosexuality, this forces us queers to disrupt those assumptions by stepping out of the closet. I agonized for years about what I was, an agony that disrupted any chance of a normal childhood due to my own assumptions of a heterosexual world. And then we have to disrupt the lives of those around us when we find the courage to step out of the closet, and this inconvenient truth shakes worlds. And it is tiring and stressful.

But it is the assumptions that are causing the need for disruptions. And those of us who are lucky will find we only moderately disrupt the status quo for a little bit until we ourselves become a part of a new assumption. But there are many queers out there whose families shatter entirely, and some of us misplace blame on the mere fact of existing. And we sometimes take extraordinary measures to end our existence entirely. But how fortunate Charlie is in this lonely moment to have a loving sister like Tori, who hugs him closely, and emphatically states, holding back tears, “You’re not ruining my life,” in a transcendent moment that displays her “older sister magic” in such a touchingly hopeful way. I’ve really grown to love Tori’s character, and these eight episodes have allowed us to see her loving relationship with Charlie unpeeled, layer by layer, in such a consistently meaningful way. It’s really quite lovely.

The appearance of Tori’s words mark the moment in the series where our heroes begin to navigate their way out of all the shards of glass from the previous episode, and the title screen displays a beach with the sound of seagulls, recalling the very end of episode one, when Nick’s mum is driving him home and he’s beaming because of receiving Charlie’s text following his gross fight with Ben, “thank you x,” and animations of seagulls take flight across the screen. The titles also give us another clue in the form of the predominantly blue-green hues against a golden, sandy beach, pointing towards a new meaning—a new assumption—for the color blue, which will become increasingly apparent as this episode progresses.

However, Charlie needs one more reminder, a moment of tough love, that he isn’t ruining people’s lives and that choosing to disappear isn’t the answer. When we join Charlie at school, he sits down next to Isaac and Tao in class, and Tao is still clearly very upset with Charlie. Charlie tries to begin to repair things by suggesting they all do the javelin at the upcoming sports day event, but Tao coldly reminds him that he’s on the rugby team, which always plays a match at the end of the sports day, and so they won’t be able to do the same event this year, rugby in this moment recalling episode four when the sport was a symbol for the danger that Charlie puts himself in by associating with the rugby lads. So Charlie decides to tell Coach Singh that he’s quitting the rugby team. He also passes Nick in the hall, on the verge of tears, as he tells Nick he can’t have lunch with him. Later on, we also see him ignore Nick’s texts, and then as the sports day is getting started, Charlie even makes eye contact with Nick as they are all choosing a red or blue sports day bib (i.e. jersey), and he turns his back on Nick to avoid him again. Charlie is choosing to disappear, and it is heartbreaking.

This avoidance is just so hard to watch, and it continues on when Charlie goes to Mr. Ajayi’s art room, where his mentor comments that he’s been coming into the art room a lot recently. And this is where we hear Mr. Ajayi’s sage advice that I had referenced in my responses to episodes five and six: “When I was at school, I thought that hiding from it all was safer, easier. But sometimes the loneliness was just as bad. Don’t let anyone make you disappear, Charlie.” This wisdom, along with Tori’s emphatic declaration that he doesn’t ruin her life, provides Charlie with just enough extra momentum to get him to find the will to work a way out of the two conflicts he finds himself enmeshed in.

But Charlie will continue to get even a little more help navigating out of this, as Nick and Tao also are both able to begin to fully see their two conflicts and how they’ve converged upon Charlie. Earlier in the episode, Nick and Tao share a tough, honest chat together over lunch at school. Nick’s conflict comes into sharp focus pretty readily when he admits, “I think maybe he’s finding it hard having to lie to people about us. He’s not angry about me being in the closet or anything. He knows I’m not ready to come out.” And then Tao sympathizes with how Charlie struggles with how his very existence affects people: “He’s always had a tendency to believe that him just existing is annoying for other people. He’s not going to force you to come out, but he probably wants to be something more than secret-guy-you-kiss-sometimes-on-the-downlow. If you can’t give him more than that, it’s always going to make him feel a little bit crap about himself.” And in that moment, Nick’s conflict shifts away from Charlie and back towards Nick, where that prescient moment in episode three that foreshadowed Nick’s bisexuality and his way forward out of the closet, becomes even closer to reality. But the look of fear on Nick’s face is another one of those meaningful moments that reflects reality so cleary the pains we queers feel when we realize that the loneliness of hiding in the closet is worse than disrupting the assumptions around us. And Nick knows full well what to do next, as scary as that is.

Tao’s conflict, meanwhile, also begins to shift back towards Tao and away from Charlie. But this conflict remains more of a shared chore between our two best friends. While Tao angrily exclaims to Nick that his fears came true that Charlie would get bullied by the rugby lads by allowing their friend group to change by associating with Nick, Nick adds another layer to the conflict: “I think Charlie might be nervous about telling you [about me and him] because he really cares about your opinion. Because he loves you a lot.” Tao still seems unpersuaded by this remark, and it’s not without reason. He reveals that he thinks Charlie doesn’t appreciate that his resistance to allow the friend group to change was motivated by a desire to protect him from the bullies. And way back in episode four, Charlie even coldly revealed to Nick that his friends just need to “deal with it” that he’s ditching Tao and Isaac to have lunch with him. I specifically called that moment out as an uncharacteristically frosty remark coming from Charlie, but we will soon see this comment come full circle as Tao’s conflict begins to resolve.

Yet while the conversation with Nick and Tao still concludes within notes of uncertainty despite a strong display of tough love throughout the chat, it is so telling that the conversation happens outside on a school picnic table that has been painted gold, that color of warmth and honesty we’ve come to know will point towards that better future. And we also see this optimism reassured again when we see Elle, Tara, and Darcy, wearing golden shirts, walking towards Truham to begin the Truham-Higgs sports day. While Elle still seems anxious that she’s returning to Truham (recall that the two schools are a symbol for her transition from male to female, Truman itself recalling her past marked with bullying and misgendering), she still positively remarks, “I want to do this!” and the trio skips away towards the school, hand in hand, smiles on their faces. This moment shows that when you choose not to hide from it all, proceeding outwards and onwards, that things will get better, and our journey towards the celebration of hope, happiness, friendship, and love continues to draw nearer and nearer with a steadfast resolve and an assured confidence.

And that confidence towards our celebration comes soon enough when Charlie goes to Tao right as the running event is getting started. Tao’s been drafted into running, but Charlie offers to take his place since he is such a bad runner. They swap bibs, Charlie now dawning blue, and says, “I’m just sorry. Sorry for everything.” Not only do we see a visual cue that the weight of Tao’s conflict seems to be squarely back on Charlie, we can see in Tao’s face that he understands this now too. Once the race is over, Tao and Charlie meet, they hug with a conviction of enduring friendship, and they both gush forth their apologies, and it is such a sweet, sensitive moment. I wrote way back in episode one (in the fourth paragraph, to be precise) that this show is about a cast of characters that acknowledge their faults, change their habits, and express their love. And it is here on full display as Tao admits his fault, “I made it so hard for you to tell me,” and Charlie admits, “I should’ve been looking out for you as much as you were looking out for me.” What a scene for the ages! What an example these characters can provide us all! What a world we can strive to live in! This is why this show is so amazing, that through all the hardships, there is still an optimistically hopeful way forward.

However, we can see it clearly on Charlie’s worried face after Tao leaves the shot that there is still one more conflict to resolve, but we again are provided those incredible clues that our march towards our celebration will continue undeterred: two seagulls take flight across the screen, recalling the optimistic concluding moments of episode one and foreshadowing an abundantly hopeful conclusion to episode eight, as we will soon see.

Before long, the rugby match between teams red and blue gets underway, and as the match is about to start, Nick looks around at the crowd, unable to spot Charlie, and it’s clear from Nick’s face that he is so sad not to see him. Soon, however, Charlie does appear to watch the match, and eventually Nick does spot Charlie in the crowd. And the music of series composer Adiescar Chase plays its hopeful tune, a strong yet subtle rhythmic pattern in the bass recalling a heartbeat, our hearts taking a moment to stop, as it were, and reassess. And in a moment that is so sappy yet so amazing and wonderful and magical that the fact that it’s sappy doesn’t even bother me, Nick leaves the pitch, goes to Charlie, takes him by the hand, the whole world to see, a sunbeam creating a prismatic rainbow as they touch, our core cast of heroes looking on in amazed wonderment, faces beaming with smiles, and we know in this moment that our amazing hearts of gold will be gloriously brilliant.

Nick takes Charlie into one of the school corridors and reveals his heart—bravely, softly, forcefully, assuredly, and passionately:

“I don’t want to break up. I know people have hurt you, and you feel like I’d be better off without you, but I need you to know my life is way better because I met you. I’ll keep on saying it until you believe me. I don’t care about getting into fights or pissing off my mates or anything like that. It’s all worth it to be with you. You are the kindest, most thoughtful, caring, and amazing person in the whole world. And if you really want to break up, then I would respect your decision. But I want us to be together! You are my favorite person! I need you to believe me!”

And Charlie emphatically declares, “I believe you!” And they kiss, right in the corridor. What another incredible scene for the ages! What an incredible moment! What love on display!

Curiously, however, this loving scene takes place while Charlie is still wearing his blue bib, and the corridors are also unmistakably blue, and we would rather expect those optimistic golds and oranges to figure much more prominently during a scene filled with such love and hope. And blue will continue to unexpectedly figure more prominently in shots as the episode reaches its hopeful conclusion, but a song by Sunflower Bean, “Moment in the Sun,” begins to play as Nick and Charlie kiss in the blue corridor, and the lyrics declare that, “I want to feel them all.” It is here where the color blue has now become a part of a new assumption. All light is all around us, including blue, and blue is no longer to be feared for its lies and conflicts. Rather, it is to be embraced as a necessary reminder for when to put our guards up, when to be cautious, and when to allow a healthy amount of fear to enter into our realms to alert us when something might be the matter. I’ll be curious to see how this show uses colors in the next two series.

What follows as the episode marches towards its conclusion is that date that Charlie and Nick said they should go on back in episode six. And it’s everything you’d expect between two young lovers celebrating their relationship together: it’s hopelessly cute as they take photos of themselves in a booth, it’s unapologetically sappy as they ride a merry-go-round, and it’s gloriously elated as they share a private moment lying on the beach side by side, those seagulls we remember from episode one appearing one last time, bringing this whole first series to a triumphant conclusion. It’s triumphant not only for the reasons we’ve already seen, but also because Nick reveals to Charlie that he is bisexual and he wants to come out, and he’s ready to no longer hide in the shadows of the closet. “Does this mean we’re boyfriends?” Charlie sheepishly asks, and Nick resoundingly, if somewhat frustratingly, declares, “Yes! Was that not established the last ten times we made out?” And Charlie responds with a smile, “We never confirmed it,” adding with a laugh, “Why are we like this?” And Nick scoops Charlie up in his arms, brings him to the shore, and declares for all to hear, “You’re my boyfriend! I’m your boyfriend! We’re boyfriends!”

This celebration of love continues when Nick makes his way back home, his mum sitting at the table, and we’re treated to another one of those lovely scenes between Kit Connor and Olivia Colman. As I mentioned so many times over, it is such a delight when these two share the screen together, and that is ever more so true here. This final scene between mother and son captures a reality that should be true for all. It’s clear that Nick is getting ready to tell his mum something deeply serious as he prepares a cup of tea. When he sits down next to his mum, his eyes begin to well up with tears, and his mum knows that something extraordinary is about to happen, Nick allowing his real personality to be completely unburied and revealed. Olivia Colman delicately leans in as Kit Connor begins to speak, her eyes now also shimmering and sparkling with tears, and Nick begins to disrupt those assumptions of a heteronormative world, a moment that is intensely scary for so many of us queers, and he reveals about Charlie, “He’s my boyfriend. Charlie’s my boyfriend. I still like girls, but I like boys too. And me and Charlie, we’re going out. And I just wanted you to know.” And in a moment that shows how adaptable Nick’s mum is to accepting a new assumption, providing us with a vision for the way things ought to be, she hugs him closely and says, “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell me that,” in one breath acknowledging her heteronormative comments from episodes five and six, fixing them entirely. And when Nick reveals how long he and Charlie have been together, they hug one more time, and his mum says, “I love you!” Three incredible scenes for the ages all in one episode! I don’t know if I can manage to take any more happiness in!

All of this said, I have obsessed at length about how this show provides us with remarkable role models that we can all aspire to be, and I want to make clear that any remarks I’ve made about the hard times we queers have endured should not be construed to suggest any illwill I have towards those closest to me. It’s not your fault. Rather, we must remember that these characters are incredible role models; they are not us. And sometimes role models, especially fictional ones, can be frustratingly perfect. And we as imperfect humans go through life, we will mess up, we will say the wrong things, and we will sometimes move backwards rather than forwards. And that’s okay. We make these mistakes while embracing a spirit of learning and growth and progress, and glorious shows like Heartstopper can provide us with incredible maps to reveal a hopeful way forward. And that is absolutely fantastic.

And as this glorious first series of Heartstopper comes to a close with that celebration I promised would come—a celebration of hope, happiness, friendship, and love—the last images we see are of Nick and Charlie sharing the tenderest moment together back on the beach, lying arm in arm, the golden sands reminding us of warmth and comfort, a blue beach towel reminding us of a new assumption that all light is around us, the optimistic music of Chairlift proclaiming, “I Belong in Your Arms,” and it fills me with such happiness that such glorious television could ever evoke such joy, such hope, and such love… whole beacons of light shining the way forward. This is the world I want us all to strive for. These are the people I want us all to admire. These are the dreams and visions I want us all to embrace. And I can’t wait to see what beacons of light we will get to see next series as these incredible stories continue…

Final musings for episode 8:

As I remarked back in episode four, I really fell in love with Coach Singh as she stands up for Charlie: “Lots of gay people are good at sports, Charlie!” In this episode, when Charlie tells her that he’s quitting rugby, she’s clearly visibly hurt but also quickly inquires, “Have the boys been giving you a hard time? Do I need to talk to anyone?” All gym teachers should have such compassion for nerdy boys! And what an example Coach Singh is!
I love the moment when Nick and Tao have their honest conversation at lunch, and Nick tells Tao he should try rugby because it’s good at releasing negative emotions. Tao’s incredulous face, eyebrows raised skeptically, is priceless!
There’s also a scene between Elle and Tao that is just absolutely lovely, and it foreshadows events to come in a second series: their growing love for each other, not as best friends, but as boyfriend and girlfriend. They lie on their backs together on a table and Elle asks, “Is it awful being at Truham without me?” and without a beat, Tao declares, “Yes! Everything’s awful without you.” They both then sit up, and we’re treated to one of those gloriously underplayed reaction shots from Yazmin Finney as she takes William Gao’s hand, stares into his eyes, expresses a face filled with subdued fear and love, and says, “I was gonna tell you something.” And while she isn’t able to reveal what she’s thinking yet, we know in this moment that this story will continue to develop next series.
I just love the shot of Charlie and Nick waiting for the train at one of those impossibly English train stations built of bricks, a rainbow in the background. I also couldn’t help but be reminded of the Pevensie children waiting at a similar train station in Prince Caspian. But those books are terribly problematic, yet here that image is reinvented into a new, better assumption of a world unshackled by oppressive religions.
Also make sure you catch series creator and writer Alice Oseman appearing in the train as she sits to the left of Charlie and Nick as they make their way to their seaside getaway. Reportedly, she was drawing Nick and Charlie as they filmed this scene.
Don’t forget to also catch that unmistakable voice of Stephen Fry who returns in episode eight after being absent since episode one as the voice of the headmaster over the school’s tannoy.
Lastly, I realize that all my verbose thoughts about this silliness of colors could very well be something I invented entirely out of thin air and has no bearing in evidence. Yet it is still something I noticed and it made this show more meaningful to me. I hope it’s also more meaningful to you. It’s hard for me to accept that the makers of this show weren’t also deliberately planning these color palettes in intense detail to enrich the narratives of this incredible series. It just can’t be a coincidence that these patterns exist without thought and within chaos. The makers admit so themselves that certain lightings were very deliberate, and if I happened to notice other patterns—however seemingly unconscious on the part of the makers of this show—it’s still absolutely fantastic. And I love it! Please watch this incredible show, and walk with me as we journey towards a more perfect cosmos.

Heartstopper, Series 1, Episode 7: “Bully”

Posted on June 4, 2022 by tclang — 1 Comment ↓

“People shouldn’t be saying stuff about you in the first place. You shouldn’t have to put up with anything like that. I don’t even want to be friends with those people anymore. I’m tired of all of them.”

In episode six, we saw how our main characters provide us with remarkable examples of beacons of hope with hearts of gold, bright glittering stars outshining worlds of terror, and it seemed as if nothing could stamp out those infinite lights of happiness, friendship, and love, the episode concluding with unshakable hope and optimism, Nick sitting down to enjoy an orchestra concert with his friends, the orchestra literally lit by three spotlights, one each for the beacons of hope playing in the orchestra: Darcy, Tara, and Charlie. Yet, back in episode four, I wrote that sometimes a story concludes on a note of deeply troubling uncertainty, presenting a world where sometimes bullies win, stamping out the bright, shining stars of our heroes, suspending the ongoing, difficult work towards a better future, where the days of tomorrow may be darker than the days of today.

Sadly, it is in episode seven where so much seems to go wrong for our heroes, and we distressingly have to watch an episode where the bullies unequivocally win. But through all the heartache of seeing our cast of golden heroes being outmatched by the bullies, we begin to learn that the two conflicts of the series—Nick’s conflict of being true to himself and Tao’s conflict of resisting a changed friend group—are both informed by a singular cause: the bullies themselves. If the bullies didn’t exist, then Nick and Tao’s conflicts wouldn’t exist. But bullies do exist, and they stretch the limits of love and friendship to a breaking point in episode seven, causing terrible rifts in the close relationships we’ve grown to love over the previous six episodes. But in the face of this gross adversary, our heroes will learn that the loneliness of hiding from the bullies is just as bad as the bullies themselves. The hard work must go on, even when the challenges seem impossibly insurmountable. And sometimes great lengths are required to outshine those worlds of terror.

The episode opens with Charlie nervously checking his hair, something he’s consistently done in the previous six episodes whenever he’s about to see or hang out with Nick, and for a brief moment, this visual cue seems to suggest Charlie and Nick might just be going out on a date, both having agreed that that’s something they should do someday since they enjoyed their triple date with Tao, Elle, Tara, and Darcy so much in episode six. Soon Charlie’s sister, Tori, appears in her characteristic fashion, suddenly and unexpectedly, surprising Charlie. I remarked back in episode one that this is Tori’s running gag, suddenly appearing in the corner, large drink held in both hands, surprising Charlie, and it’s still so consistently sweet in episode seven as it was when it happened the first time in episode one. “Older sister magic,” she comments when Charlie wonders how she’s able to appear out of nowhere. We’ll see more of that older sister magic next episode, albeit in a more sensitively touching manner than the comedic way we see here; and it’s a moment that will confirm, without a doubt, how close Tori and Charlie’s brother/sister relationship is.

Charlie eventually reveals to Tori that he and Nick are going out and that he’s getting ready not for a date but for a movie night at the cinema with Nick’s friends. While Tori is happy that he and Nick are together, (“Called it. I’m happy for you,” she remarks), she knows Nick’s friends from parties and remarks that they don’t seem as nice compared to Nick. It’s the first comment this episode that’s foreshadowing horrible events to come, and while what is about to come is horrible, we are still provided with those clever visual cues this show is so adept at: Charlie’s room is lit brightly in those sunshiny hues that we’ve come to associate with comfort and warmth. It at once helps us to understand how warm and comforting Tori and Charlie’s relationship is, but also that despite the hardships that the bullies cause that we’ll see this episode, there will still always be bright, glittering stars outshining worlds of terror championing a future world where things will get better.

But we also are forewarned that the night at the cinema may not go as magically as Charlie would like when Charlie’s dad cautions him when he drops him off, “If any of those boys says anything, does anything nasty, you just call me, okay?” Charlie still seems undeterred, remarking that he’ll be fine since Nick is there, but the look of worry on his dad’s face is still so sad to see, not only because of how the episode will reveal how nasty the bullies really can be, but also because his dad saw how hurt Charlie was back in episode three, breaking down in tears in the car, his dad hugging him closely and comforting him, “It’s okay, I’ve got you, everything’s going to be okay.” We only have these few scenes with Charlie’s dad in all eight of these initial episodes, and they are more examples of how adept this show is with providing so much with so little, presenting a loving father/son relationship in brief scenes worth so many words. And while we only hear Charlie’s dad speak a handful of lines, it’s still more than enough for us to appreciate how much he loves his son.

Nick eventually greets Charlie with a warm hug in the car park before they enter the cinema, and as they make their way down the escalator, Nick reassures Charlie by telling him that he’ll be fine with his friends since Ben and Harry aren’t coming. But we soon see that Ben and Harry have come, the screen cuts to the title screen, “Bully,” and the image shatters, a broken window, the cautiously optimistic music of Adiescar Chase suddenly truncated at the sound of cracked glass, forewarning us that things aren’t going to go the way any of us want, the looks on Charlie and Nick’s faces of profound worry and sadness telling us so much with so little.

And it continues to get worse, and Nick knows it, as Ben has the audacity to remark loudly enough for everyone to hear that he’s never spoken to Charlie. So Nick takes Charlie to the popcorn stand to try to put him at ease, but Charlie says he’s not very hungry. The look of worry on Charlie’s face is so, so heartbreaking, and this show is again reflecting realty in a really meaningful way, shining a murky, grey light on the very real pains we queers feel when the bullies disrupt our lives. But Nick’s bright, glittering, golden light of hope burns infinitely and brightly, and we’re treated to one of those moments that I promised would come every episode, a moment that persistently champions a promise of a hopeful future where things will get better, providing a vision for the way things ought to be.

In this case, it’s our star rugby lad, who’s already fallen for the gay nerd, championing the lonely, powerless outcast, as we saw him do in episode three at Harry’s party when he called out Harry’s homophobic comments. Nick takes Charlie gently by his forearm, Charlie brightening up a bit with a delicate smile, the hopelessly optimistic music of Adiescar Chase igniting a tender moment as soon as Nick takes Charlie by the arm, and Nick says, “Char, are you okay? I honestly had no idea they’d be here. I wouldn’t’ve suggested we’d come otherwise.” And Charlie just has his breath taken away by Nick’s sensitivity, being called Char, the first time we hear him call Charlie this endearing name, and Charlie remarks, “Oh my god! Say it again! Go on! I like it! It’s cute!” Such a touching moment during an episode filled with too many challenges for our heroes to handle.

And then later when we see Nick and Charlie sitting next to each other in the cinema, Nick continues to provide that beacon of light and hope to Charlie, taking him delicately by his hand, animations of sparks and stars igniting between them. But instead of golden and bright animations that we saw in episodes two and three during similar moments of physical contact between Nick and Charlie’s hands, these animations are colored blue, the color we’ve come to associate with conflicts and lies. The color of these tiny animations not only foreshadows large, dark clouds on the very near horizon, but also the secret that Nick is still asking Charlie to keep. And as we saw last episode when Charlie remarked, “If people guessed we were together, if they started saying stuff about you, then I really don’t want you to have to deal with that,” it’s clear how important it is to Charlie to keep things a secret in order to make sure Nick doesn’t get hurt. And in a moment, we’ll see how far Charlie is able to take that secret.

Things quickly go terribly wrong when the movie is over. While Nick and Charlie get to share some fun banter about how scary the film was, Harry quickly interrupts this and starts humiliating Charlie with a bunch of questions, “What’s it like being gay? Do you like musicals? What about Nick? Do you think he’s hot?” And we then see how far Charlie honors Nick’s desire to keep everything a secret: “Are you joking? Nick’s not even my type.” When Charlie finds the will in this moment to express something so untrue, the heightened looks on Charlie and Nick’s faces of profound worry is more heartbreaking than Harry’s bullying. Nick now sees how far Charlie is willing to lie for him, and we see the strength Charlie has to conjure the lies. But it gets worse when later on, Ben corners Charlie in the car park, who demands to know if he’s going out with Nick, having seen both of them hold hands in the cinema, and Charlie—nearly on the verge of tears—denies that anything is happening. “Don’t lie!” Ben commands, but Charlie will lie for Nick in order to protect them both, and it is so hard to witness the terrible conflict that Nick and Charlie find themselves both in because of Nick’s inability to yet be fully out of the closet.

While there have been so many moments in this series that filled me with such incredible happiness that I didn’t have enough room in my heart to keep it all to myself, these scenes at the cinema are the first time that I’ve become filled with so much profound sadness that I don’t have enough room in my heart to keep it locked away. But we’ve seen this series deal with hard moments like this before, and it still remains so important and so meaningful that this show addresses these very real conflicts with such a delicate sensitivity to the very real reality the effects these challenges have on us queers. And this remains a necessary story to tell in order to provide a real reflection of the pains we queers feel as we figure out who we are.

And the pain Nick was feeling as he saw Charlie lie for him in front of all the rugby lads was too much, so he corners them all after Charlie has left the cinema. “Go on then, what’s your problem with Charlie?” he demands to know of Harry, and in another moment that allows Nick’s bright, shining beacon of hope to glitter intensely, he calls out all of Harry’s homophobia in front of all the rugby lads: “Just shut up, Harry! You made him so uncomfortable with your gay questions. You saw the perfect opportunity to make someone feel miserable and humiliated.” But Harry has none of it, calling Charlie a pathetic, little fag. Nick has no choice but to punch Harry, the whole encounter escalating into a terrible, terrible brawl. And while all of this is so distressing to watch, it is so important to see Nick’s frustration expressed in such a raw and bloody way, as it shows us all how important Charlie is to Nick, standing up to the bullies for Charlie.

Even Nick’s mum comments on that very fact when she’s driving him home afterwards, Nick revealing to her that Harry used a really bad word, which ultimately pushed the whole fight over the edge. And Olivia Colman, in her infinitely attuned attention to subtle sensitivity in her performance, remarks, “I see. Charlie’s a really special friend, isn’t he?” But before she knew all the details about why Nick felt he needed to brawl with Harry, she comments, “Sweetheart, fighting’s not the answer.” But sometimes I wonder if it is the answer, Nick’s mum herself also understanding more about the need for fists after someone crosses a line too far with a nasty word. Additionally, last episode when Darcy was comforting Tara about all the mean things their classmates were saying about them, Darcy sweetly says she has cheese she can throw at them, remarking, “It always pays to be prepared with anti-homophobia cheese.” And while this moment of levity was so sweet as the show addressed bullying in a different way, and in the same way Nick’s mum understands more about what prompted Nick’s fight with Harry, sometimes I don’t think anti-homophobia cheese is enough to stamp out the bullies, that sometimes fists are required for our bright glittering stars to outshine worlds of terror. But I also don’t really know for sure if that really is the answer. What do you think?

The next morning when Charlie is walking past the school gate, he sees that Harry’s lip is busted up, and so Charlie quickly finds Nick in form, sees his bruised eye, and worriedly asks, “What happened?” When Charlie learns the details of the fight, he responds, “Nick, you didn’t have to do that. I promise, I’m used to people saying stuff about me.” This isn’t the first time Charlie has said this, having already remarked similarly the previous night to Nick. Harry, likewise, had also commented to Nick that Charlie’s probably used to the bullying by now. Additionally, Ben had remarked that Charlie lets bullies walk all over him, and Tao later in this episode will comment to Elle that Charlie can’t stick up for himself.

And this is why we need those bright shining stars like Nick and Tao who are able to stand up to the bullies, because not all of us can. When Charlie comments to Nick that he’s used to putting up with the bullying, Nick shoots back, “You shouldn’t have to be. People shouldn’t be saying stuff about you in the first place. You shouldn’t have to put up with anything like that.” And Nick, after hearing Charlie apologizing for things that are out of his control, demands that he not utter the “s-word,” recalling the moment back in episode one when Nick intervened on Ben’s unwanted, rapey advances towards Charlie. How much history that word now shares between Nick and Charlie, and what a reminder it is how far the two have come, from a most unlikely pairing of two young boys commencing an unexpected journey to a strongly forged relationship between two young men who couldn’t seem more opposite to the other but who complement each other beautifully.

This scene ends in such a touching moment, the classroom brightly lit in those sunshiny hues we expect whenever we see Nick and Charlie in form together, reminding us of better days to come when those beacons of hope and optimism outshine worlds of terror. Nick finds it within himself to sweetly rest his head on Charlie’s shoulder, without a care in the world that others might see. It’s a small moment but a giant one that shows how far Nick has come out of the closet. He still has a few more steps to take, which will come to a triumphant celebration next episode, but in this moment we see what an amazing person Nick is, not that that was in any doubt before. But here we see his beacon of light on full display even in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds, a star rugby player championing and protecting our geeky, lanky, small, weak, lonely, powerless outcast who he loves so dearly and so compassionately.

But Charlie still struggles to reconcile his and Nick’s desire to be together at the expense of all the disruption their relationship has caused between Nick and all the rugby lads, even though Nick confided he’s tired of all of them and doesn’t want to be friends with them anymore. It’s clear this weighs heavily on Charlie’s mind as he struggles to find the right words to text him, the show characteristically using text messages to express Charlie’s inner frustrations: “I need to talk to you,” “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault you got into that fight,” “Are you sure you want us to be together?” before Charlie finally settles on and sends, “Can we meet for lunch tomorrow?” When they do meet for lunch, Charlie comes dangerously close to calling the whole relationship off and Nick can sense it coming too, but their conversation is interrupted by yet another horrible brawl, this time between Tao and Harry. And it’s at this moment where our two conflicts of the series—Nick’s coming out and Tao’s distrust of a changing friend group—directly converge upon Charlie, and it tragically breaks him as we’ll see next episode.

The brawl between Tao and Harry takes some time to escalate. Earlier in the episode, we get to witness a vulnerable moment between Tao and Elle as they have a conversation on a park bench. Tao reveals to Elle that maybe it wasn’t a good idea to stand up to Harry with his witty insults (dick nozzle and bellend and all that), only increasing the size of the targets on not only his back but Charlie’s as well. But Tao reveals that his desire to protect Charlie was borne out of how much he remembered how bad the bullying towards Charlie was the previous year, having previously way back in episode one remarked that Nick’s friends are exactly like the boys who bullied him. Elle then reveals to Tao that Charlie and Nick are together, commenting that she’s not surprised Nick started a fight with Harry because of how close they’ve become. It really deeply hurts Tao that Charlie was unable to tell him about Nick (“I feel so stupid,” he angrily exclaims), and he storms off.

Then later Elle comes over to Tao’s house to watch a film, and they share another sensitive moment together. Elle reveals that Charlie wants to tell him about Nick, and Tao comments that he thinks Charlie didn’t tell him about Nick because he might’ve been worried he’d accidentally say something to out Nick, adding that Charlie seems to care more for Nick’s feelings than his.

It’s so sad to see Tao feel so neglected like this, and it only gets worse the next day when Tao is having lunch alone (Isaac has library duty). And while Tao invites Charlie to lunch, he reveals that he’s having lunch with Nick, and Tao shoots back, “We’re barely friends anymore.” And then in that saddest and loneliest moment, Harry makes it even worse by bullying Tao, stealing a drawing he was working on for art class, and it’s here where Tao’s conflict to resist a changed friend group breaks and shatters, shoving Harry to the ground, splashing apple juice on his face, and exclaiming, “I hate you!” The brawl that develops between them is in many ways even more distressing to watch than the one between Nick and Harry earlier, all the other boys watching and cheering, the music of Lincoln’s “Smokey Eyes” blaring, intensifying this breaking point that I commented several times in previous posts would arrive right here in episode seven.

Nick and Charlie come running to the fight, Nick tears Harry off Tao before Harry is able to strike a potentially nasty and ugly punch, and the whole friend group in this moment is broken and shattered just as the titles at the start of the episode predicted would happen. The limits of love and friendship have snapped. “Why didn’t you tell me about you and Nick? I thought we were friends, but you’ve forgotten about me! This is all your fault! Just leave me alone!” Tao angrily declares to Charlie, the blue color of the school building framed overwhelmingly in view behind Tao in the shot, adding to how much Tao’s conflict has stretched and broken.

And the full weight of Tao’s conflict and Nick’s conflict are now squarely placed heavily and torturously on Charlie’s back, and this is way too much for him to handle, especially when he already is inclined towards placing so much fault on himself for things out of his control.

Bullies do exist. And they are horrible and awful and terrible and cruel. And it remains important that we see that reality reflected so accurately in this episode. As without the bullies, Tao and Nick’s individual conflicts wouldn’t exist and wouldn’t converge upon Charlie in this nasty and gross moment.

How do bright shining beacons of hope have no choice but to confront these worlds of terror in equally violent ways? Is fighting really not the answer? I’m not sure I know the answers right now, but maybe someone else who is smarter than I am does.

As we’ll see in episode eight, however, we can at least immerse ourselves in an idealized world where we can aspire to create a future where things will get better, provide a vision for the way things ought to be, and model ourselves after fictional characters with brilliant hearts of gold, who—through all their disagreements, misunderstandings, and arguments—are able to acknowledge their faults, change their habits, express their love, and just be so terribly, genuinely, and thoughtfully friendly to each other.

Final musings for episode 7:

I love the moment where Charlie comments that he’s worried Nick’s friends will think he’s a gay nerd, and Nick lovingly comments, “Well, you kind of are a gay nerd!” and Charlie shoots warmly back, “Shut up, rugby lad!”
Ben is so, so horrible when he corners Charlie in the car park: “As if anyone would ever want to go out with someone as desperate as you.” “You did,” Charlie says, and Ben continues firing more arrows, “Are you joking? You actually thought I liked you? You were there like some tragic loser with barely any friends, who ate lunch alone and let bullies walk over you.” This is another moment reflecting a tragic reality that is all too real and that leaves lasting marks. And my god, was high school horrible indeed…
I love the music that plays the morning after the night at the cinema as Nick and Tori ride the bus to school. It’s another tune by Beabadoobee, the same artist we heard in episode two when Nick and Charlie were playing in the snow, the tune in episode seven called “Tired.” And while at first the lyrics seem to foreshadow events between Nick and Charlie in episode eight, they rather more accurately seem to reflect how Nick feels about the rugby lads, “You haven’t been good for long. Maybe it’s time to say goodbye ‘cause I’m getting pretty tired.” The music is also just so expertly written and also so sensitively performed by singer Beatrice Laus.
When Elle comes over to Tao’s she brings some cookies and not biscuits. While we don’t really get to see exactly what the two enjoy, it’s possible that Elle really does mean cookies and isn’t dumbing the language down for Americans, as the British will use the term cookie to refer to the larger, sweeter, softer kind of baked good while biscuits are to be eaten with tea, sometimes also called—somewhat unappetizingly—digestives.

Heartstopper, Series 1, Episode 6: “Girls”

Posted on May 30, 2022 by tclang — No Comments ↓

“Don’t feel like you have to come out to anyone before you’re ready. Being out is hard. A lot of people will see you in a different way, and it is a lot to deal with.”

Back in episode three, we were treated to a lovely moment between Tao and Elle in Tao’s bedroom during movie night, Elle remarking, “Sometimes change is a good thing,” mentioning that she’ll be okay at her new school, Higgs (the girls school itself a symbol for Elle’s transition from male to female). “That’s a good change, right?” and Tao agreed, “Yeah, it’s a good change.” Elle also commented that at first she was scared to make friends at Higgs but then realized she needed to put herself out there otherwise she’d end up alone. This sensitive moment between Tao and Elle not only addressed how change can be good but also that sometimes change is hard work which involves taking risks, surprising people, and placing ourselves in vulnerable situations. While it can be scary to make a decision like coming out of the closet, Mr. Ajayi in episode eight will tell Charlie (in a similar way Elle told Tao) that avoiding the challenges can be just as bad as the loneliness of hiding from them, and that that only causes us queers to disappear.

Similarly, Nick remarked to Imogen last episode, “Do you ever feel like you’re only doing things because everyone else is? And you’re scared to change? Or do something that might confuse or surprise people? Your real personality has been buried inside you for a really long time.” This is an important moment for Nick, because it shows that he understands that the loneliness of remaining untrue to himself is worse than the challenges of confusing and surprising people by revealing who he really is. In fact, in episode four, he also said he confused and surprised himself when he kissed Charlie for the first time while at Harry’s party. As we begin to make our way towards the conclusion of the series, in episode six, “Girls,” Nick’s conflict of keeping secrets begins to address how choosing to be honest and open can be a surprising change that confuses people, sometimes to devastating results, as we’ll see in episode seven. Fortunately, Nick now finds himself surrounded by some really amazing people who all have the most brilliant hearts of gold and who are so terribly, genuinely, and thoughtfully friendly to each other and who all provide the world with bright, shining beacons of hope for a world that will get better and a world where things will be the way they ought to be.

Meanwhile, Tao’s conflict of resisting the changes in the friend group begins to escalate because he also finds all these changes surprising and confusing, causing even Charlie to feel uncomfortable to be totally honest with him. Even Elle will remark that even though her recent changes have been good, she’s still had to deal with a lot of change lately and that too much change can be too much hard work. We will also see the conflicts of change play out in Darcy and Tara’s story as they deal with how their classmates react to their relationship, possibly foreshadowing things Nick may have to deal with in a second series. And while episode six will sensitively and delicately show how supportive our group of outcasts are as Nick and Tara and Darcy become more and more honest and open, this change will still deliver confusion and surprise that is just a little bit too much for some to handle, even closest friends like Tao.

The episode opens with another one of those amazing scenes between Olivia Colman and Kit Connor. I know I’ve said this before, but I just love seeing these two on screen together; their chemistry is reliably magnetic, and both actors bring such a sensitivity and warmth to the loving relationship that these two characters have. We get to watch them enjoy a pizza and movie night together, electing to watch Pirates of the Caribbean, Nick’s mum softly teasing him how much they used to watch it when he was eleven because he loved Keira Knightely so much. Nick seems embarrassed by this, Nick’s mum remarking, “What? She’s a very pretty girl.” We’ll return to these heteronormative comments later, as they seem to negate a little bit the loving relationship we observe on screen, but these comments will be beautifully resolved in a touching moment in episode eight, as we will soon see.

As Nick and his mum watch the movie, it’s clear that Nick still does seem to have a sexual attraction for Knightely, the camera going softly hazy as it struggles to focus on Nick’s eyes now mesmerized by her beauty. But his eyes also seem to be equally mesmerized by Orlando Bloom’s beauty as he and Knightely share a tender moment on screen together. Back in episode two, we got to observe Charlie comment to Tao and Isaac—who both had just referred to Nick as a “massive” and “ginormous heterosexual”—that not only can masculine guys be gay but also that “bisexual people exist.” It’s clear that Nick is feeling something for both actors on the screen, which prompts him to do a Google search not for “Am I gay?” as we saw in episodes two and three, but a search for bisexuality. Nick finds a vlogger (real-life Courtney Jai) who comments about how he has feelings for both boys and girls and how it felt “incredibly right” the first time he kissed a boy. Nick seems to see himself reflected so delicately in the vlogger, as the gently assured music of series composer Adiescar Chase provides a hopeful cue that Nick continues to make great strides in his journey towards truth and honesty, his Google search this time ending not in tears but in cautious optimism.

Later, however, the vlogger does comment how discovering his bisexuality involved lots of second-guessing, allowing a bit of frustration to seep through his commentary on his journey. And we also see that reflected in Nick as he begins to voice his questions aloud to his friends only to discover that their stories of self-discovery don’t seem to entirely reflect his or the vlogger’s. For example, we get to witness a tender moment between Nick and Charlie as they lie on a blanket together in a park, and Nick asks Charlie how he realized he was gay. And, as I commented back in my post for episode four, Charlie describes my story exactly as it was with me: “I’ve always been sort of aware of it even when I was really young. I didn’t understand it at the time, but it’s always been boys.” Even though this observation is a reflection of so many queers (Tara will also describe a similar experience later on in this episode), this doesn’t seem to reflect Nick’s journey, as he comments that that’s not how it has been for him and he still doesn’t know what he is. But Charlie is so sweet in this moment, comforting Nick, “You don’t have to figure it out right now,” Charlie’s brilliant heart of gold shining unapologetically as a beacon for Nick’s journey forwards and outwards.

While it’s clear that Nick is gradually revealing his true self, he still remains uncomfortable about so many things. As he and Charlie lean in together for a kiss in the park, a couple walks by and Nick quickly straightens up, removing himself from the tender moment out of fear of being noticed. But Charlie’s heart of gold shines brightly again as he comforts Nick not to be sorry that he’s unable to quite yet be fully himself. This is just another one of those lovely scenes that yet again shows the incredible chemistry Joe Locke and Kit Connor have on screen together, something that was already immediately obvious way back in episode one when they had their first conversation in the school corridor, but in this scene is all the more richer as an affectionate history between Nick and Charlie continues to broaden their characters and their relationship.

And Charlie isn’t the only bright, shining beacon of hope that Nick has in his life to guide him through the sometimes hazy, misty, grey, shadowy journey out of the closet. He also has Tara and Darcy. It’s during these many moments in episode six where this program’s themes of hope and optimism come into an especially sharp focus, shining a bright light on the way things ought to be. And while Heartstopper may present an impossibly idealistic world that may not necessarily be a reflection of reality, it is a vision and aspiration nonetheless that provides all of us—children, teenagers, and adults, regardless of our sexual identity—with a blueprint for how to behave, how to treat others, how to love ourselves, and how to love others.

Nick is provided such a blueprint while he has a lovely, private moment at school with Tara. The music students of Higgs and Truham both are coming together for the day to prepare for an orchestra concert. After Nick finishes walking Charlie to rehearsal and Charlie goes off to set up his drums, Tara comes by and asks Nick, “You and Charlie getting along well then?” We had already seen Nick reveal to Tara in episode three that Charlie is his best friend, but now we get to see Nick reveal to Tara, “We’re sort of going out,” and Tara just beams with happiness for him and is so accommodating when Nick asks her not to tell anyone else.

Later on, we also get to witness more shining beacons of hope when Nick, Tara, and Darcy all share lunch together, Darcy also equally happy for Nick, reacting in a way that is at once celebratory and also completely natural, the way it ought to be. Nick also reveals that Tara and Darcy are the first people he’s told about him and Charlie, and Tara in particular seems to feel incredibly honored that Nick felt so comfortable revealing all this to them both, placing an incredible trust within her about such a sensitive truth. “Does it feel good to have told someone?” Tara asks, and Nick, beaming, responds assuredly and optimistically, “Yeah, it really does,” Tara and Darcy sharing in his happiness to take a few more steps out of the closet. Later on, we also see Nick and Charlie doing homework together in Charlie’s bedroom, and Nick reveals to Charlie that he told Tara and Darcy that they are going out. “Oh my God, that’s amazing! You’re amazing!” Charlie exclaims as they share in some kisses, animations of flowers flitting about the screen.

I’ve remarked on this already, but this show just has so many moments like these that make me feel just so absolutely happy and hopeful, and the conversations between Nick, Tara, and Darcy and the moment Nick and Charlie share in Charlie’s bedroom are just more examples. But I think I might also partly be feeling a bit of melancholy that I did not have this kind of broad network of support during my adolescence, a great deal of that due to it being the 1990s, living in rural Minnesota, where shows like Queer as Folk weren’t even yet around; or bastions of liberalism like Star Trek are relegated to discussing queer issues in clumsily executed yet well-meaning episodes like “The Outcast” from The Next Generation, an example of an allegory that likely flew over most everyone’s heads; or supposedly liberal presidents championing a so-called “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” policy in the military, forcing us queers to disappear into the dark, shadowy corners of bottomless closets. Yet scenes like the moment Nick and Charlie share in Charlie’s bedroom help me to celebrate that kids can have adoringly loving friends like the ones we get to know in these first eight episodes of Heartstopper. And if this is hopelessly idealistic, then so be it! It is a much-needed vision of hope and love providing a beacon of light in a messed up world of would-be dictator presidents, rapist judges, do-nothing legislators, bigoted religions, violent aggressors, heartless murderers of elementary school children, and extremist white men holding bully pulpits of complacent hatred and poisonous evil.

And that evil is something that Heartstopper also doesn’t forget to address, even in the face of its cast of characters of bright, shining, golden heroes. Later in the episode when our group of outcasts are having milkshakes before the orchestra concert, Tara will remark that sharing certain things “changes everything, and not always for the better,” while sharing a knowing glance to Darcy. Tara is referring to her earlier observation to Nick: “Being out is hard. A lot of people will see you in a different way, and it is a lot to deal with,” and so it makes consistent sense that Tara would be so obliging to not tell anyone else about Nick and Charlie. Additionally, by this point in the series, all of Higgs knows that Tara and Darcy are lesbians and are dating, having posted more openly about it in their Instagrams. While their posts are celebrated by many with comments of congratulations and heart emojis, other comments disparagingly declare, “You don’t look like a lesbian,” or “You’re too pretty to be a lesbian lmao,” comments that Tara quickly deletes. Other classmates will even loudly comment in front of Tara and Darcy, “Lesbians are so disgusting,” and that they are “so gross.” While Darcy seems to be able to brush these slings to the side since she’s been out for awhile (in a similar way we’ll see Charlie do in episode seven, much to Nick’s worry and irritation), Tara is clearly visibly upset, and it all comes to a head towards the end of this episode right before the orchestra concert.

As they are setting up for the performance, Tara overhears someone in the orchestra meanly comment, “Don’t look at her. You’ll catch the lesbian disease.” Tara immediately storms off and Darcy follows where they accidentally get locked in the music instrument storage room due to a wonky door. While this is a distressing scene to watch, Tara so clearly hurt by how much people around her have changed since she came out, Darcy now provides Tara with a bright, shining beacon of hope in the same way Charlie did Nick in the park. Tara expresses, “Everything’s changed. I just wasn’t prepared for things to change. I didn’t think so many people would suddenly think I’m a completely different person. I wasn’t prepared for any of it. I don’t know how to behave anymore, and I just want to live my life. I still feel like I know nothing.” In this moment, the surprises and confusions of coming out clearly weigh very deeply on Tara, and it is so heartbreaking.

But Darcy is right there by her side, and humbly remarks, “I don’t know anything either. I don’t know anything about anything,” and then adds following Darcy’s desire to just want to live her life, “We can do that.” They share a lovely kiss together and then Darcy concludes, “I think it will get easier.” While this whole conversation takes place in a locked room that perhaps symbolizes the shackles that bullies impose on us queers, the room is tellingly still lit brightly in sunshiny hues, the same hues we consistently see Charlie and Nick lit in when they are in their form classroom, that room of hope and optimism, as opposed to the boys changing room, that room of secrets and conflicts and lies, that in episode three was lit severely, drawing out a pale blue version of the Truham school colors. This scene—so expertly played by Corinna Brown and Kizzy Edgell in another moment that highlights how thoughtfully this show was cast, highlighting the incredibly magnetic chemistry that these characters share on screen together—provides a bright, shining way forward even in the face of gross bullies.

While change can be surprising and confusing and hard, it can also be a slow process. But slow doesn’t necessarily mean bad. We witness just such a change within Elle, who early in the episode reveals to Tara and Darcy that she has a crush on Tao, and Tara and Darcy are so excited for her. But Elle is hesitant to reveal her feelings to Tao because he is her best friend and she also feels he doesn’t like her back, despite the visual cues the audience saw last episode, animations of hearts and stars flitting about both of them as they enjoyed the arcade together.

That said, Darcy can’t resist trying to set Tao and Elle up. Previously, she and Tara invited Nick and Charlie to a double date over milkshakes before the orchestra concert, and over a text message exchange between all four of them (using that characteristic use of splitscreen suggesting comic book panels), she suggests inviting Tao and Elle along, too, Nick excitedly texting, “So now it’s a triple date?” The next day when all six of them are enjoying the milkshakes, Darcy drops hints to both of them: “You make a cute little pair,” and, “You should be really good friends with the person you’re dating.” However, when Tao leaves the table with Nick and Charlie to get more milkshakes, Elle is visibly annoyed with Darcy for trying to set them up. Then a bit later when Nick and Charlie return while Tao waits for the last two milkshakes at the truck, Elle also finds out that Nick and Charlie were in on the setup as well. Yasmin Finney yet again provides us with another one of her masterful performances in underplayed emotional reactions, and it is just enough of a reaction to show what happens when certain journeys begin before someone is ready, providing us with a glimpse not only of what happens when things move too fast in a romantic relationship, but also perhaps when things move too fast in the coming-out process, recalling Tara’s sensitive advice to Nick: “Don’t feel like you have to come out to anyone before you’re ready.”

But sometimes knowing when you’re ready is very hard, as at this point in the series Tao is the only friend in the group who doesn’t know that Nick and Charlie are dating, and Charlie doesn’t yet appear ready to tell Tao. “I’m gonna tell him. I just need to find the right time,” he remarks. We’ll return to this strand of the plot more thoroughly in episodes seven and eight, but it is worthwhile to note this moment here as a symptom of Tao’s inner conflict to resist the changes in the friend group, as it continues to affect Charlie’s ability to be fully honest with his good friend.

Additionally, Nick’s conflict of keeping things a secret while also making great strides forwards and outwards towards openness and honesty also continues to converge upon Charlie, and we begin to see how much is being asked of him as these two inner conflicts of two people who are very dear to him begin to approach that breaking point that I’ve mentioned will happen in episode seven. Charlie addresses this before the orchestra concert starts as Nick is sharing Charlie’s stool at his drum kit: “We’ve been hanging out a lot and if people guessed we were together, if they started saying stuff about you, then I really don’t want you to have to deal with that.” But just seconds earlier, Nick unashamedly tells Charlie, “I like being with you,” when Charlie tells him that he’s really glad he came to the concert. It’s another sweet moment of many, and while Charlie’s comments foreshadow heart-wrenchingly sad moments in episodes seven and eight, we are yet again provided with those adept visual cues the tell us that things will be alright despite what the characters are saying on screen, Nick and Charlie’s conversation lit brightly in the blazingly orange and glittering golden hues of the sunshine, those optimistic colors of bright, shining light that assures us that despite all the conflict, there is a hopeful way forward.

And then, as Nick sits down to enjoy the orchestra concert, smiling brightly towards Charlie, three golden spotlights illuminate the orchestra, one each for Nick’s bright, shining beacons of hope and happiness who are playing in the orchestra: Darcy, Tara, and—of course—Charlie. What an episode this is! What role models these characters are! What an idealistic vision this show creates! What a world we can all work towards! What beacons of light and hope each of these characters are! Can such transcendent television celebrate hope, happiness, and love to even higher heights than we’ve already seen?

Yes, it can!

Final musings for episode 6:

I love the moment in the music room when Darcy tells Tara that she’ll throw cheese at the other classmates who are making disparaging comments about how lesbians are gross, and Darcy says, “It always pays to be prepared with anti-homophobia cheese.” That said, while I do love the way Darcy tries to lighten things up, in episode seven I’ll be returning to Darcy’s ability to let the bullies’ comments roll off her sleeve, as sometimes that’s not necessarily the best response.
It’s so cute when Tao and Elle arrive at milkshakes, Tao hilariously dancing towards her, Elle pretending to throw a dart, and Tao pretending to be pierced before they meet each other and hug.
I also love it when Elle reveals to the group that she met Tao only because he came along as a package deal when she made friends with Charlie, and then Tao responds in his characteristic theatrics, exclaiming in a Scottish accent, “Rude!”
It also was so cute when Charlie teases Nick for liking bubblegum flavored milkshakes. “That is a crime!” he exclaims. But then when Nick tries Charlie’s chocolate milkshake, Nick fears Charlie might be right. So Nick says, “We can share. We are on a date,” agreeing with Charlie that sharing drinks is the official rule of dating.
Back in episode four, I noted how that episode contains the first moment in the series where we see Tao, Elle, Isaac, Tara, Darcy, Charlie, and Nick all in a single shot together right before the rugby match. Episode six, then, finally allows everyone in that group sans Isaac to appear in conversation together over milkshakes. It makes sense that Isaac doesn’t appear in the milkshake scene, as I’m not sure how the writing for that would work, but episode six starts to make it even more clear that I’m not sure there’s enough screen time to go around to include Isaac as equally as the rest. And this makes me sad.
I also love it when Nick is holding Tara’s case as she assembles her clarinet, and Tara remarks, “Thanks, boy-I-kissed-one-time,” and Nick responds, “No problem, girl-I-kissed-one-time.”

Heartstopper, Series 1, Episode 5: “Friend”

Posted on May 26, 2022 by tclang — No Comments ↓

“Do you ever feel like you’re only doing things because everyone else is? And you’re scared to change? Or do something that might confuse or surprise people? Your real personality has been buried inside you for a really long time.”

Back in episode two, Olivia Colman as Nick’s mom observed of Charlie to Nick: “Charlie seems like a lovely boy. He’s very different from your other friends. You seem much more yourself around him.” And then in episode three, Nick confides to Charlie about his usual group of friends: “I don’t know if I want to hang out with those guys anymore. I’d rather hang out with you anyway.” Then by episode four, we agonizingly see how much Nick’s usual group of friends bury the part of him that is himself, his real personality, and how he no longer seems to actually fit together with his friend group. Episode four is a really hard episode to watch, because so much of it focuses on the secret that Nick is asking Charlie to keep, how Nick agonizes over wanting to be with Charlie while living up to the expectations of his other friends, how much Charlie works to honor Nick’s request only to see that he’s messing it up anyway, and how much Tao notices how lousy it is that Nick is unable to be his real self around others and how that messes with Charlie’s feelings. Episode four was the first episode that dwelled on these challenges and conflicts in an almost pessimistic but meaningful way, concluding the episode on a dour note devoid of any visual cues that point towards a hopeful way forward.

However, in episode five, “Friend,” the first scene where we see Nick and Charlie reunited on screen together following the devastating rugby match from last episode, is in that room we’ve come to know so well: their form classroom that always seems to be lit in bright sunshiny hues, a particularly golden wall frequently featured in the background, a room of warmth and comfort. We see Nick’s real personality on full display whenever he’s in this room with Charlie, even from the first moment we met Nick in episode one. And while episode four spent some necessary time tormenting us with how much Nick’s real personality gets buried when he’s with his rugby friends, it is in episode five where we get to learn—without a doubt—that his real personality is allowed to shine with an unexpected group of friends, a group of outcasts, as Tao described themselves in episode one, and his real personality becomes a glimmeringly hopeful shine that assures us that things will get better. But change can still be hard, as we will see.

The episode opens with Isaac, Tao, Elle, and Charlie playing Monopoly at Charlie’s house, and it ends in the way all Monopoly games end, throwing the board up in the air and calling it a draw. Later on, Tao and Elle have a private moment together, and Tao is agonizing over how to tell Charlie that Nick is going on a date with Imogen, also commenting that he just doesn’t like Nick: “I’ve seen him with those nasty year 11s at the school gate. If they say anything mean to Charlie, I’m going to crush them!” I’ve previously commented on Tao’s desire to protect Charlie, and while his “crush them” comment is characteristically theatrical hyperbole from Tao that we’ve come to expect from him, we’ll actually see him really step up how much he sticks up for Charlie in front of the bullies in this episode and the next two. For example, later on in this episode as Charlie and Tao are leaving the school gate, Harry throws some bric-a-brac at both of them, and Tao, undeterred, advances on him, hilariously calling him colorful insults inspired by male anatomy, “dicknozzle” and “rich bellend.”

While this desire to stand up to the bullies and protect Charlie is partly born out of Tao’s inner conflict to resist how the friend group has changed, this conflict (as with Nick’s inner conflict to keep his relationship with Charlie a secret) begins to affect Charlie’s ability to be more openly honest with Tao, an inability that will approach a breaking point next episode and then completely unravel in episode seven. Charlie also becomes worried that standing up to the bullies will force Nick to have to make a decision sooner than he’s comfortable: to fully join the group of outcasts and completely renounce the group of friends that he feels he no longer fits into. But Tao remains adamant that Nick can look after himself and is frustrated that Charlie can’t see that he’s just trying to protect him. The fact that both of these two main conflicts of the series begin to directly converge upon Charlie is a lot to place on him, especially when he is so inclined to think everything is his fault, apologizing for things that he has no control over. This will all come to a heartbreaking climax in episode seven and into episode eight where, as I’ve previously mentioned, the limits of friendship and love are brought to a nearly irreversible breaking point.

Soon we learn that it is Charlie’s birthday on Saturday, and Charlie asks Tao, Elle, and Isaac if it’s okay if he invites Nick, cautiously worrying that he didn’t want to make things awkward. Isaac, ever the romantic, positively remarks, “I assumed he was coming anyway!” while Elle says it wouldn’t be awkward, even though she shares a knowing, private glance to Tao, secretly acknowledging that Charlie is falling for someone who is going on a date with someone else. When we catch up with Nick and Charlie in form, Charlie sweetly taps Nick’s hand with his pinky (a moment that delicately echos the first time their hands touched in episode three), and asks Nick if he’d like to come to his birthday. Resoundingly, Nick exclaims, “Yes!” that he’ll come, Nick’s true personality shining through, unashamedly expressing joy with Charlie in a way Ben never would have. While episode four had me so worried that Nick may be unable to allow his real personality to resurface after how much the rugby lads bury it, in this tiny moment, Nick beaming as he looks forward to seeing Charlie at his birthday, rekindled my hope that things might turn out alright after all, especially since the scene takes place in the room we know signifies comfort, truth, and warmth, their form classroom, lit—as usual—in reassuring golden hues.

In fact, Nick is so excited to go to Charlie’s birthday that Harry has to remind him that he has a date with Imogen on that same day, and Nick yet again has a hard time telling Imogen the truth about how he feels about her after she reveals that her dog died the previous night. Nick talks through all this with his mum, and we are treated to another lovely scene between Kit Connor and Olivia Colman. As I mentioned in my response to episode two, it is such a delight when these two share the screen together, and this scene is no exception to that. I feel that this scene in particular also demonstrably shows what such a lovely mum Nick’s mum is, not that that was in any doubt before this moment. “You shouldn’t go out with someone because you feel sorry for them,” she sagely advises Nick. In many ways, Nick’s mum is exactly the same mentor character Nick has that Charlie has in Mr. Ajayi, and it’s so lovely that both Nick and Charlie have such amazing humans in their lives.

Most of the rest of the episode focuses on Charlie’s birthday party at a bowling alley. And while there are some moments of tension that happen during the party that I’ll talk about (tensions that actually help Nick to reassess not only what he’s asking of Charlie but also what he’s asking of himself to remain closeted), for the most part the whole celebration is just such an amazing, well, celebration of love and friendship, which is exactly what we need after episode four dwelled so much on how tortured Nick is about what he’s doing to Charlie, making him keep secrets, and what he’s doing to himself, staying closeted. And so, Charlie’s party allows us to witness Nick’s growing realization about who he is and how he begins to navigate towards truth and honesty, beginning to allow his real personality to shine even in the presence of his other friend group.

Before we get to the parts of the party that are the celebration, let’s talk about the tension first. We’re immediately reminded of Tao’s inner conflict of resisting the changing friend group when he begrudgingly—through gritted teeth—groans, “I’ll try,” after Charlie implores him to try to get to know Nick, adding more fuel to Charlie’s fears that he can’t be as honest with Tao anymore. There’s another moment where Tao rolls his eyes when Nick and Charlie almost hug after Nick bowls a strike, and Tao’s frustration boils over so much that he corners Charlie in the toilet, pleading that he “stop this thing” with Nick, revealing that Nick’s going on a date with Imogen, and that he doesn’t like seeing Nick “mess with him.” Charlie actually seems legitimately worried that Nick really is messing with him, but it’s important to remember that Nick is forced into difficult decisions that negatively affect not only him, but Tao and Charlie, too, because we live in a messed up world where people have no choice but to live in secrets and lies. But Charlie knows the real Nick better than anyone. “He’s my friend,” Charlie pitifully yet impassionedly presses, but Tao still counters that he will be so angry if Nick is even slightly mean to him. This is all such a horrible place that Charlie is forced into, and it’s heartbreaking to watch.

Unbeknownst to either of them as they have the conversation, Nick actually overhears all of this, and the look of worry on Nick’s face adds to all the heartbreak already being dished out. Later on, Nick and Tao will have their first private moment of the series together, and Tao remarks, “I don’t know if this thing with Charlie is a joke or not, but for some reason he really likes you, and you’re messing with him, and I will not tolerate it. So consider this your final warning.” It is a really harsh moment, but after watching the tortured looks on Nick’s face last episode when he was unable to comfort a broken Charlie on the rugby pitch, Tao’s comment helps Nick to understand not only the weight of the secret he’s asking Charlie to keep but also the frustration he is starting to cause himself by remaining closeted. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re a good friend,” Nick admits.

In episode eight, Mr. Ajayi will counsel Charlie: “When I was at school, I thought that hiding from it all was safer, easier. But sometimes the loneliness was just as bad. Don’t let anyone make you disappear.” Mr. Ajayi’s words will be just as helpful in episode eight to Charlie as they are now to Nick in episode five. And while Tao’s tough love isn’t really similar to Mr. Ajayi’s eloquently sage advice, both remarks help point to the only way forward for Nick: being true to one’s own self and coming out of the closet, as treacherous and scary and terrifying as that can be. And believe me, it is terrifying. But remaining untrue to oneself scarcely bears thinking about, and it is far lonelier and darker than the rooms that Ben forced Charlie to see him in.

And so, outwards it is, for Nick! As I promised back in my response to episode one, each episode of this series will shine a bright light on a touching moment that persistently champions a promise of a hopeful future where things will get better and things will be the way they ought to be. But first, Nick has to clear up things with Charlie about Imogen. While they are having a private moment in the arcade, Nick reveals that he heard everything that Tao and Charlie said in the toilet, and he promises to make it right with Imogen, telling her that he doesn’t like her in that way, uttering the “s-word” (sorry) twice. Charlie asks, “Isn’t that what you always tell me not to say?” recalling their first vulnerable moment together back in episode one, and Nick responds, “But I’ve actually done something bad.” Nick’s observation that it’s necessary to apologize when something is directly their fault is something that Charlie hasn’t quite learned yet, even when we reach episode eight. But I hope that one day Nick’s example will help Charlie feel less responsible for things out of his control.

And then, in a touching moment of many, Nick asks Charlie to open the present he brought him. He confesses that he didn’t have time to buy him anything, resorting to something handmade instead, but it is the sweetest gift a boy could ever want: a framed image of both of them with Nick’s dog, Nellie, all lying together in the snow, that impossible moment from episode two showing two boys having not only an incredibly happy time but a lovingly charming time, a moment where it was clear something special was happening between both of them. And as I wrote for episode two, this moment not only imprinted an indelibly happy memory within me but also within Nick who reveals, “That was just one of my favorite days ever,” and the look of happiness on Charlie’s face confirms that he feels the same. “I really like you,” Nick declares to Charlie. And, in another moment for the ages, Nick lets Charlie kiss him right in the arcade where others might see them. It is just such a bright, shining moment that so clearly reveals not only Nick’s bravery in the face of a messed up world, but his willingness to listen to Tao’s tough love that—for reasons out of his control—he was messing Charlie around. But no longer. This is the moment we know that Nick knows who he is, who he likes, and who he wants to be.

Charlie’s birthday party ends in a montage where everyone is having just such an incredible time. And we also get to see much clearer clues how much Tao and Elle really care for each other, whimsically animated hearts and stars flitting about Tao and Elle as they play a space alien game in the arcade. We’ll get to touch more on this in the remaining three episodes, but it’s an important moment to note between Tao and Elle all the same.

Sadly, Nick has one difficult task to perform, however: meeting Imogen to tell her that he doesn’t like her as a girlfriend, having canceled their date via text message at Charlie’s birthday. Nick and Imogen meet on a park bench where he reveals his feelings and that—as I’ve written about previously—his real self has been buried. He reveals that not only does he not feel he fits well with Imogen but also, tellingly, other people in their friend group. The first time I watched this, I had missed that he said he also felt he didn’t fit with his friend group and not just Imogen, as I was feeling so heartbroken for both Nick and Imogen in this moment. But here he is acknowledging out loud to someone in his friend group that he feels he no longer fits within that group. While this is all such a sad moment, it is a necessary one for Nick to take as he begins to take steps out of the closet. And both Kit Connor and Rhea Norwood play this scene so delicately and so sensitively that it is difficult to be distracted from their masterful performances.

All of this said, I do find myself feeling a need to offer a little bit a criticism about how these 14- and 15-year-olds behave, and it is that they seem to be behaving more like well-adjusted 30- and 40-year-olds rather than rash, undeveloped teenagers. I wouldn’t expect teenagers to take heartbreak so delicately and calmly as we see Imogen, nor be able to see Nick express his emotions so eloquently. In the same token, however, these characters provide teenagers and, indeed, people of all ages exemplary role models to follow, to look up to, and to admire. And I’d much rather watch teenagers behaving like adults than most any other television. So I suppose I’m praising with faint damnations, as it were, and maybe I don’t really have a problem with this after all.

And so it’s onwards and outwards for Nick, who made great strides this episode, as we see him finding solutions to his inner conflict, as challenging as that has been. As his mum remarked back in episode two, Nick really is more himself around a group of outcasts rather than his regular group of friends, and here we see his real self on full, unedited display. But we still have three episodes left, and some of the darkest moments are yet to come… but also some of the brightest…

Final musings for episode 5:

I mentioned in my final musings last time that William Gao really comes into his own as Tao during episode four, and in episode five Gao continues to expertly develop a kind of underplayed theatricality to Tao’s character, first when he dances for Elle in Charlie’s bedroom, his angular features drawn into sharp focus as he awkwardly dances. (Doesn’t one of his dances look like the “drunk giraffe” as performed by Matt Smith’s Dr. Who?) And then later on at the bowling alley he sarcastically comments about his lanky arms, “I’m a very muscular individual!” or when he’s destroying aliens during a video game at the arcade with Elle, he proudly remarks, “I was born to kill aliens!” These are just a few moments of many that made me fall in love with Tao’s energetic and unashamedly geeky personality. That said, I still don’t understand what twerking is and why it’s a thing.
I had commented in episode one about Nick’s use of the word ass in regards to, “I’ll kick his ass,” rather than, “I’ll kick his arse.” And then in this episode, while Tao is “twerking,” apparently, he exclaims in a generic American accent, “Work that ass!” So maybe ass is catching on in the UK in ways I wasn’t aware of. But if anyone can let me know for sure, that would be helpful. Thanks.
During Nick’s chat with his mum, his mum reassures Nick, “Don’t worry. The right girl [emphasis mine] will come along, just you wait.” We’ll return to that comment in my response to episode eight.
When Nick first sees Elle at the bowling alley, he remarks to Charlie, “I feel like I know her from somewhere.” While I’m almost inclined to complain about the writing being a bit sloppy here (Nick literally just saw her at the rugby match last episode!) I think Nick’s forgetful memory has more to do with how anxious he was about the match as well as his anxieties about Charlie’s friends seeing them both together on the pitch, possibly observing that they seem closer than just best friends, outing him sooner than he would like. Darcy did comment that they both seemed suspiciously couple-y, after all.
Charlie and Nick both refer to the toilet at the bowling alley as a bathroom. This, I’m pretty sure, is absolutely a moment of the Brits dumbing things down for Americans, as they most certainly would have called it a toilet or loo or some other word… but never bathroom. Which is so weird because we hear Nick call it a loo in episode three at Harry’s party!
Nick also confesses to Charlie how sorry he feels for Imogen, about her dog dying and about how he doesn’t like her as a girlfriend. Kit Connor plays this moment with such sensitivity that it becomes just such a touching moment pointing to those hearts of gold I promised we’d see back in episode one.
Lastly, also back in episode one, I commented how each main character, with one notable exception, will receive their appropriate amount of screen time and development. And it is this episode where I feel it comes clear how much Isaac initially felt like a main character but now seems relegated to a secondary character. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, and I know there can only be so much screen time to go around, but I would like to get to know Isaac better than we do.

Heartstopper, Series 1, Episode 4: “Secret”

Posted on May 23, 2022 by tclang — No Comments ↓

“I’m so sorry. I’m just so sorry I ran away last night. I was just freaking out because I was confused and surprised, and I’m having a proper full-on gay crisis. And it’s not that didn’t want to kiss you, I was just so confused. I’m just been so, so confused.”

By the end of episode three, we have a very clear idea of who the main characters of Heartstopper are and what makes them tick. We are also able to identify the two main conflicts that now drive the plot, and both conflicts are driven by a reaction to change: Nick’s inner conflict with trying to figure out his sexuality and allowing his real personality buried deep inside him to surface; and Tao’s inner conflict with how the friend group isn’t what it used to be. These two conflicts bleed into and inform the other strife that starts to appear with the rest of the characters, and we will see these conflicts begin to unravel and test the limits of love and friendship until it seems to reach an irreconcilable breaking point, ultimately both conflicts converging directly upon Charlie in episode seven, when this show’s persistent promise of a hopeful future where things will get better is cast in serious doubt. But, as usual, there are clever visual cues peppered throughout that help the audience to still believe that hope, happiness, friendship, and love will prevail… but sometimes even that is not enough.

We begin episode four, “Secret,” exactly where the previous episode ended, Nick outside and soaked in the steadily falling rain, framed in Charlie’s front door, both having just shared a few kisses the night before at Harry’s party, and who both seem distressed that something might’ve changed between them, for the worst and not the best. Nick tells Charlie that he wanted to talk in person rather than in text, and the desperation on his face is unmistakably weighing him down.

When they go upstairs to Charlie’s bedroom to talk, it’s Charlie who suddenly apologizes, uttering three times that “s-word,” as Nick will dub it in episode seven and which he already remarked that Charlie says too much. “I at least had to say sorry,” Charlie sorrowfully laments, placing the blame on the kiss that might’ve ruined their friendship squarely on himself. Nick earnestly implores Charlie to stop by speaking his name three times and then passionately kisses him. Then it is Nick who utters the s-word, albeit only twice, for running away the previous night. He also expresses how confused he’s been feeling, remarking that he’s having a “proper, full-on gay crisis,” but that he did want to kiss Charlie. The fear in Nick’s face is so authentic and so believable, expertly reflecting that real-world fear that we queers feel when we realize who we are.

Coming out, at least for me, was one of the most terrifying things I ever had to do. But even more terrifying was the moment several years before I came out when I made the realization that the feelings I was feeling were gay feelings, and that moment is firmly etched into my mind’s eye. Charlie, in episode six, will take the words right out of my mouth, describing my experience exactly as it was with him: “I’ve always been sort of aware of it even when I was really young. I didn’t understand it at the time, but it’s always been boys.” While it’s true that I, like Charlie, was always aware of my sexuality, it wasn’t until I was able to conceptualize a label around what I was feeling when an intense fear began to fester. And that’s when suddenly my whole world irrevocably changed before me.

So, too, in this moment with Nick, are we seeing that exact same, terrifying realization play out so realistically as Nick’s world permanently changes around him. While we did see Nick shed a tear in episode two when he received a “62% homesexual” rating from that silly online Ultimate Gay Quiz, it is in this moment that the fear about who he really is is on full display. And all his fear and anxiety is such a remarkable reflection of reality, and I empathize so deeply with both Nick and Charlie as they tenderly hug each other following Nick revealing his crisis. Joe Locke and Kit Connor are also such authentic actors, so talented and so thoughtful in their performances, that it’s hard to become distracted whenever they are on screen, especially when both of them share such a vulnerable moment like this together.

Before Nick leaves, he asks if he and Charlie could keep all this a secret. Nick still has a look of worry on his face when he asks this of Charlie, and Charlie also looks momentarily and ever so slightly distressed, both Nick and Charlie aware that they may be entering into another secret agreement like the one Charlie had with Ben, an agreement that caused Charlie much pain. This is Nick’s inner conflict now permeating outwards to affect Charlie’s happiness. Tellingly, however, Nick is wearing blue (the color of the boys changing room at school where we’ve come to associate conflict and lies) and Charlie is wearing a golden orange shirt (the color of their form classroom where we first met warm and comforting Nick, lit by the sunlight), so we can rest assured by these colors that while Nick is currently representing the conflict of the situation, Charlie is representing the reassuring warmth and comfort in the same way Nick did when we met him in episode one. More hopefully, however, is that when Nick leaves through the rain, he has an umbrella that is half gold and half blue, but it is the gold half of the umbrella that faces forward with the blue half following behind, suggesting that the future will still be bright and shining, despite Nick requesting this all be a secret.

But more tellingly still, after Nick walks down the street a bit, Charlie chases after him in the rain to kiss him one last time. And when the two actually do part, the camera hovers on Nick, the gold part of the umbrella more prominent in the shot, a sun beam streaks past the screen creating a prismatic rainbow that appears to be emanating from Nick’s smiling face. These visual cues in addition to the simple fact that Nick was already able to kiss Charlie on the street where others might see them, clearly point to that bright future the show keeps championing where things will get better and things will be the way they ought to be. Nick may need to keep things a secret for now, only because all of this is so brand new and different, but the striking visuals provide just enough symbols for us to know that the future will see brighter days.

The next morning at school, things continue to feel brighter, the hopelessly optimistic music of series composer Adiescar Chase underscoring the changes that have been happening, “good changes,” as Elle might describe them as we saw in episode three. Even Imogen, Nick’s friend, notices that something is different about him. And then when we see Charlie walk down the hall to form, a giant smile beaming across his face, he retraces the path down the corridor that he took during the moment when we first met him in episode one. Except this time, instead of meeting shadowy, secretive Ben in the dark library, we see Charlie meeting Nick in the bright, sunny form classroom. And it’s so sweet when they exchange their greetings of hi, similarly to when they first met in episode one, but now in episode four, that simple word, hi, has taken on a deeper meaning, representing so much positive change as both of them have gotten to know each other. It is just so heartwarming to watch.

When the noon hour comes, we see Nick and Charlie share lunch in the bright, open art room rather than a dark, shadowy library as we might have seen with Ben. Nick and Charlie talk about and acknowledge parallels between their secret and the one Ben made Charlie keep, and this clearly makes Nick uncomfortable, almost taking his hand out of Charlie’s before Charlie clasps both of his hands around Nick’s, assuring Nick that he is totally different from Ben. While the audience has been given visual cues that Nick is a symbol of generosity and warmth, the character only has Charlie’s word that he is totally different from Ben. But as we’ll see over the next few episodes, the secret that Nick is asking Charlie to keep weighs more and more heavily as both of them become closer and closer.

And it’s not without reason that Nick wants to keep this a secret, as Tara and Darcy’s story reveals more fully the strife that oftentimes accompanies queers when we come out of the closet, and their story helps us to empathize with Nick’s desire to stay closeted. By this point, the school is starting to learn that Tara and Darcy are lesbians since they kissed so openly at Harry’s party, and Tara herself is starting to feel more comfortable with kissing Darcy at school. During their lunchtime with Elle, the whole school is abuzz with gossip. Tara is clearly very distressed about all the commotion, and Elle remarks, “It’ll die down soon, won’t it?” This story will continue to address the challenges of coming out in a really meaningful and sensitive way, and while it is disheartening to see Tara so visibly upset, it is a necessary story to tell in order for the audience to understand what can oftentimes be a painful process and to allow us to recognize Nick’s motivation to stay closeted.

This episode also allows more of Tao’s inner conflict to unravel a bit, and his fears and anxieties become highly predictive as we’ll see in episode seven. Tao explicitly names his conflict to Elle while they are watching Charlie’s rugby match between Truham Boys School and St. John’s Sports Academy. There’s a moment where Tao sees Harry talking with Charlie on the pitch, and Tao is worried that Harry’s picking on him (he is, of course, bitingly teasing Charlie that one of the opposing rugby players has a crush on him). Elle suggests they could just be friends, but Tao is undeterred, adamantly countering, “Charlie’s befriending bullies, and our friendship group is falling apart.” Additionally, earlier in the episode, we had also seen Tao air more of his frustrations to Isaac when they were having lunch outside together without Charlie, Tao remarking disparagingly that he’s probably having lunch with Nick again, and adding, “It’s a bad idea to even walk near [the rugby players] let alone actually befriend one of them. Charlie’s putting himself in danger just because he has a little unrequited crush.”

At this point in the series, Tao’s remarks seem a little dramatic, partly because we have seen how sweet Nick can be towards Charlie, but—at the same time—we have seen how nasty the rugby boys can be, as in episode one, and more specifically, how nasty Harry can be, as in episode three and this one. So the fact that Tao is so worried that Charlie is actually in danger is not only an incredibly touching admission of how deep Tao’s love for Charlie is, but it also becomes a remarkably prescient moment, once we reach episode seven.

Sadly, this tension between Tao and the rugby boys (Nick in particular) also builds in a much more tangible way. As the rugby boys are walking by Tao and Isaac during lunch, Harry rudely throws the ball at Tao and it strikes him in the face. When Nick comes by to see if he’s all right, Tao refuses to give the ball back, instead waiting to throw it at Nick’s back as he walks away. It’s so heartbreaking to watch this tension unravel, and this is where that tension begins to really stretch the limits of love and friendship. At the same time, it is also so admirable to witness Tao’s desire to protect Charlie with such great zeal, Tao becoming one of those bright glittering stars outshining worlds of terror, stamping out bullies, even though it is manifested in an intense dislike towards not just all the rugby boys, but Nick in particular.

The episode then circles back to Nick’s conflict and his desire to keep everything between him and Charlie a secret, and the rugby match that Truham plays against St. John’s literally does become dangerous, all the rugby boys a symbol for the danger that Tao is worried Charlie is already enmeshed in. At the end of the match, Charlie tries to tackle one of the St. John’s boys, fails, and is cast violently to the ground with a bloody nose, symbolizing the verbal slings that Harry had previously sent flying to puncture Charlie’s humanity. As Charlie lies broken on the muddy pitch, Nick calls out his name but is unable to do what we all know he really wants to do: go to him, take him in his arms, hug him, and make sure he’s alright. Nick then flashes back to the moment when he asked Charlie to keep all of this a secret, animations of rain falling over Charlie’s dejected face, Charlie the one uttering, “Keep this a secret.”

This is just all so, so sad! While it was horrible watching Harry’s homophobia on full, unedited display in episode three, it is just so, so heartbreakingly sad watching not only Tao’s worry for Charlie’s safety escalate, but also so, so sad seeing Charlie’s crumpled body in the soggy grass, Nick unable to comfort him, the realization dawning on him the weight of the secret that Nick is asking Charlie to keep and the danger Charlie is in by associating with the rugby lads. It is horrible, but it is a symptom of the not-quite perfect world we live in, and it remains so important for Heartstopper to show moments like this, shining a hazy, dingy light on the dark underside of a messed up world of terror yet unconquered by brilliant, shining stars.

While we do get a special moment following the match when Nick visits Charlie in the nurse’s office as he tends to his nose, it is frustratingly truncated. Charlie expresses how he’s sorry for being so clingy and messing up the secret (Darcy earlier had remarked that he and Nick seemed “suspiciously couple-y”), but then Nick begins to express his apologies, staring Charlie deep into his eyes, but is interrupted when Isaac brings some antiseptics. Isaac clearly knows that something deeper is happening between the two the way he awkwardly excuses himself from the room. Even though Charlie assures Nick that Isaac won’t say anything, the subtle look on Nick’s face is one of profound frustration and sadness, as it is clear that he doesn’t know how to navigate being romantically involved with Charlie while also remaining in the closet.

And then, as if the episode couldn’t dish out more frustration and conflict, Imogen corners Nick after he checks in with Charlie, and she asks him out on a date in front of all the other rugby boys. Tao and Elle also witness this, and while it’s clear that Nick desperately wants to turn her down, he can’t in that moment figure out a way to say no. So he accepts her offer, much to the confusion of not just Tao and Elle but Nick himself. It’s telling that in this moment, Nick is also surrounded by the seats of the empty pitch, all colored blue, that color of conflict and lies.

And while this show is so good at presenting us with visual cues (a stray sunbeam or a prismatic rainbow) that hint that the future will be bright despite what anyone on screen is saying, this is a key moment where those hopeful clues aren’t present. And for the first time, an episode of Heartstopper concludes on a note of deeply troubling uncertainty, presenting a world where sometimes bullies win, stamping out the bright, shining stars of our heroes, suspending the ongoing, difficult work towards a better future, where the days of tomorrow may be darker than the days of today.

Final musings for episode 4:

When Nick and Charlie are at lunch, Nick is worried about how Charlie’s friends will feel that he’s dumping them for Nick to have lunch. But Charlie coldly responds, “They can deal with it.” This is a somewhat troubling and uncharacteristic moment to witness of Charlie who previously had always been shown to be so grateful for his friends, but it is a fault that Charlie will acknowledge with Tao in episode eight, a moment that allows us to see how these characters are able to change their habits for the better.
We had previously seen in earlier episodes how much Tao cares for Elle, but when we see their text exchanges this episode, both expressing how much they both miss each other, it’s so clear by this point that Tao and Elle might now actually be more than just friends. This story will pick up more momentum in episodes five and six.
I really started to fall in love with Coach Singh (Chetna Pandya) this episode, who stands up for Charlie at every turn. “Lots of gay people are good at sports, Charlie!” she says when Charlie is worried that the whole team is labeling him the stereotypical gay boy who can’t do sports.
This is the first episode where we at last get to see all the core cast on screen in a single shot when Tao, Elle, Isaac, Darcy, and Tara show up to watch the rugby match. We’ll get treated to another more special moment with most of them in episode six.
When everyone is watching the rugby match, I just love Tao asking, “Does anyone remember the rules of rugby, because I don’t,” and everyone responds deadpan, “No.”
Also during the rugby match, I love how Elle comments that Tao’s nightmare scenario is when Tao worries, “Next thing you know, Charlie will be bringing the whole rugby team to our film night and making us watch Avengers or something.”
Lastly, I feel that this episode is where William Gao as Tao really comes into his own as he plays the part. Gao develops an enduring theatricality in his performance, a theatricality that breaks the surface ever so slightly a few times during this episode. Towards the end of the episode, for example, Tao thinks Elle’s new friends, Tara and Darcy, are cool, and he worries that they might be replacing him, and Elle responds, “As if anyone could replace your incredibly annoying, loud presence in my life,” and Tao teases with a grumbly but playful, “How dare you!” They both share a laugh, and it is just such a sweet moment during an episode filled with more conflict we have yet seen this entire series so far.

Heartstopper, Series 1, Episode 3: “Kiss”

Posted on May 18, 2022 by tclang — No Comments ↓

“Would you go out with someone who wasn’t a girl? Would you kiss someone who wasn’t a girl? Would you kiss me?”

If episode one was about getting to know the broad character traits of our main cast and episode two was about getting to know the finer details of each characters’ key motivations, then episode three, “Kiss,” brings into clear focus the two main conflicts of this series. By this point, we’ve been able to become familiar with how this show works: how light and color provide a visual cue for a character’s true personality or actual mood despite what they express aloud; how text message conversations capture a character’s inner frustrations and raw thoughts in a way that standard, verbal dialogue cannot; how subtle facial reactions are seen by no one else but the audience; and how vibrant animations beautifully enhance a tender moment, or—in some cases—a scary one. The makers of Heartstopper continue to embrace these narrative tools in episode three as the two main conflicts come into clear focus, creating a world that is presented with a masterful consistency and a truthful believability allowing the audience an emotional investment in a charismatic group of outcasts trying to figure themselves out in a messed up world.

The first conflict that comes into sharp focus right away in the first scene is Nick’s terrifying revelation that he might be gay, what that means for who he is, and how he navigates a way forwards and outwards. We see him sitting alone in his bedroom looking through the search results to his Google inquiry, “Am I gay?” His face is lit up white by the glow of the computer screen, his face now a similar shade of white as in episode two when he was imagining how hard it must be for Charlie to be out of the closet as he conjured dark images of Charlie being bullied in the school corridor. As Nick continues clicking through the search results—some campy (“The Ultimate Gay Quiz”) and some troublingly serious (“Opposition to Marriage Equality” and “Conversion Therapy”)—his sad, pale face is drained of all color because of the revelation he’s made about himself, and a single tear roles down his cheek.

Nick slams his computer shut and we immediately cut to the next morning, the camera framing Nick sitting on the usual table by the school gate, his face still absent of color, and the pale, grey/white English sky behind him augmenting the terrifying fear present in his face. I’ve remarked a few times how expertly this show is a reflection of reality, and this scene is no exception. This lonely fear is all too real of queers, especially as we grow up, and it’s so important and so meaningful that this show addresses that loneliness with such a delicate sensitivity to the very real reality the effects this loneliness has on us all.

I also feel so exhausted with Nick as he’s with his friends, his thoughts still consumed by his sexuality, and he has to carry on regardless as his friend and fellow rugby teammate, Harry (Cormac Hyde-Corrin), invites him to his 16th birthday party, accepting the invitation through a forced smile. Later on, as the boys are changing for rugby practice, Nick has to listen to his teammates talk about how Nick has his pick of two girls, Imogen and Tara, who will both be at Harry’s party. While Nick does manage to express some frustration towards this talk, when Harry tells him that Saturday night will be his chance, Nick responds, “Yeah, maybe,” as he doesn’t know how to respond any other way, unable to fully express aloud why he isn’t interested in these two girls, while his real desire, Charlie, is sitting next him as they get ready, the two of them catching each other’s eyes to share an uncomfortable moment of uncertainty. In episode five, Nick will talk about how his real personality has been buried deep inside him because he doesn’t want to confuse and surprise others, and these moments in episode three are the first concrete glimpses of how his desire to let his true self shine conflicts sharply with what others expect of him. And it is heartbreaking.

Tellingly, as we watch Nick’s inner conflict in this scene begin to bubble ever so slightly to the surface, the color of the rugby changing room seems to provide us more visual cues. It is a room with brick walls that appeared white in episode one but now in episode three seem to be lit in cold, pale, blue hues, as if reflecting a lonelier version of the blue in Truham’s school colors. But when we cut to the next scene, it’s in Nick and Charlie’s form classroom, a room that has become a symbol of tenderness and warmth, as it was the first time we got to see Nick and Charlie say hi to each other, the warm sun lighting their faces. It is immediately a room of comfort as soon as we cut away from the rugby changing room, and it is made all the warmer when Charlie sits down next to Nick. Charlie is surprised when Nick invites him to Harry’s party, “Please come! I want you to be there!” Nick enthusiastically presses him, and Charlie reluctantly agrees but then quickly seems to feel so excited to be going out to a party with Nick.

And this is where the second main conflict of the series begins to come into sharp focus, and it is the first time in the series that we see one of the main cast cause one of their friends to look visibly and dramatically hurt and angry. Since Charlie accepted Nick’s invitation while forgetting that he had already made plans with Tao, Elle, and Isaac for a movie night, Tao is deeply hurt. The scene’s dialogue is accomplished through the show’s characteristic use of text message conversations and split screen, Charlie, Tao, and Elle all appearing on screen in their separate bedrooms in comic book panels. Charlie’s bedroom is lit up in golden hues, recalling the warm colors of his form classroom, reminding us of how happy he is that Nick invited him to the party. Contrastingly, Tao’s room is lit in primarily shades of blues and greys, recalling the cold room associated with conflicts and lies, the rugby changing room. Meanwhile, Elle’s room seems to act as a mediator between Charlie’s happiness and Tao’s anger; it’s primarily colored deep red but simultaneously has hints of blue reflecting in tiny mirrors and suggestions of gold glistening in fairy lights. It’s Elle who seems excited for Charlie to go to a “popular people party” and who suggests that they can still have movie night without Charlie and the four of them can do something else another time, but Tao is still clearly really upset. And just as it was upsetting to watch Nick making a startling discovery about his sexuality, so too is it upsetting watching Tao become so angry with Charlie.

We had previously seen hints of Tao’s anxiety about what’s started to happen to their friend group. In the first episode, for example, he talks sadly of how Elle had to go to a different school and their group of friends is now no longer a group but a trio. In episode two when Tao is talking with Charlie at rugby practice, Tao has a look of dread on his face when he responds, “Oh…” to Charlie’s delight at how Nick might like him back. But now we see that anxiety on full, unedited display as Charlie chooses to be with Nick rather than him, and Charlie has no idea the full extent of Tao’s frustration since only the audience gets to see Tao’s facial reactions during the text message exchange.

In the end, movie night ends up being only Tao and Elle, as Issac texts he also no longer can come since he’s “super sick.” While Tao also seems annoyed that Isaac isn’t coming either, this gives us a chance to witness some honest moments between Tao and Elle. Tao tends to hold steadfast that Charlie is changing, that he’s choosing Nick over them, and that he misses how things used to be. But the dialogue is so eloquently written to have Elle comment on how sometimes change is a good thing. It’s especially meaningful that Elle, a young transgendered woman, should comment on how change is necessary and important, noting how her switch to Higgs Girls School—the school itself a symbol for her transition from male to female—was a good thing. She also talks about how she was so scared no one would like her at Higgs, but that she needed to put herself out there or she’d just be alone. This mirrors what Nick is going through as he begins to take the initial steps of putting himself out there to be with someone he cares about.

All of Elle’s observations seem to help Tao understand Charlie’s recent changes, and it is so special to see the understanding gradually appear in Tao’s face, as he and Elle hold each other by their hands, lying in his bed, foreshadowing events in episodes five and eight. This is all just such a touching series of scenes, Tao and Elle at one point promising each other to put their friendship first. And Yasmin Finney’s performance as Elle is particularly transfixing—if I may use a word with the prefix trans—capturing such a tender moment with such elegant grace and such alluring warmth. It’s really quite special.

Meanwhile, Nick and Charlie’s story plays out at an impossibly glitzy 16th birthday party for rich boy Harry, his parents having rented out the entire St. George’s Hotel. Charlie anxiously walks into the hotel—music blaring, colorful lights flashing—while Nick is hanging out with Harry and saying hello to Imogen, whose crush on Nick is growing by the minute. (Later we’ll see the two in another scene where Imogen officially declares her fondness for Nick.) But it’s clear Nick wants to see no one else but Charlie, as he eagerly scans the large ballroom for him. Their eyes eventually do meet and they converge upon each other. “I’ve been looking for you!” they both enthusiastically exclaim. It’s a sweet, tender moment, and the first of many we’ll see between the two of them this episode.

Later we see Charlie and Nick sitting on a couch talking about Mario Kart, but Harry interrupts them because he wants to try to set Nick up with Tara. It’s so heartbreaking watching Harry tear Nick away from Charlie, but Nick and Tara are able to clear up once and for all that they aren’t interested in each other, Nick revealing that he doesn’t feel that way about her and Tara revealing to Nick that she’s a lesbian. The way Nick responds matter-of-factly about Tara’s sexuality continues to reinforce Nick’s warm personality, and it is a moment that highlights the generally hopeful message of this show. This moment also helps to peel back another layer of Tara’s story as she becomes more and more comfortable coming out of the closet, a story that will come to a tear-jerking yet encouraging climax in episode six.

During this scene, we also get to see Nick revealing to Tara that Charlie is his best friend, as if that wasn’t obvious after all the show has shown us in only two-and-a-half episodes, but which provides a glimpse into how Nick is becoming more and more comfortable with letting his real personality buried deep inside him to emerge. Shortly after Tara and Darcy go off to dance, he’s cornered by Harry and the other rugby players who wonder why he wants to find Charlie (who has disappeared from the couch earlier), making fun of the fact that maybe Charlie has a crush on Nick and how sad that is. More of Nick’s real personality comes to the fore, inch by inch, willed by an indestructible force, as he calls out Harry’s homophobic comments. What a brave moment for Nick, indeed! I can’t imagine the energy it must have taken Nick in that moment to stand up not just for Charlie but for queers everywhere. This is another example of the show revealing a world as it ought to be: a star rugby player championing the lonely, powerless outcasts. It’s a brief exchange of a couple of lines but it’s a scene for the ages!

And then we cut to Charlie, who gets cornered by Ben who frustratingly asks Charlie if he’s finished sulking about everything that’s happened between them. But, as if willed by Nick’s example, Charlie pushes Ben into a wall. “Leave me alone! Do not touch me!” he assertively declares, leaving Ben all alone and to continue to be the one who’s actually doing the sulking. It was a giant moment for Charlie who previously in episode one had described himself as small and weak, but in this moment he—like Nick just earlier—was the brightest star outshining an intimidating world of terror.

And that light permeates the episode as we return to the ballroom where Nick is anxiously looking around for Charlie, the music of Chvrches blasting the whole hotel, a song called “Clearest Blue,” an optimistic celebration of positivity, the first lyrics, “Light is all over us.” And while we don’t get to hear those specific lyrics in this episode since we join the tune midway through, it’s still abundantly clear that the light of heroes is, indeed, all around us, standing up to adversarial foes, whether in Nick’s hidden personality coming to the fore as he castigates Harry for his homophobia or Charlie’s newfound strength revealing itself as he berates Ben for his duplicitous manipulations.

Or in Tara and Darcy’s decision to slowly reveal their relationship to the world, as they dance energetically and lovingly on the dance floor, the music of Chvrches growing in intensity, colorful lights strobing the room ablaze in a palette of rainbows, gleaming confetti delicately sparkling through the air, until at the climactic midpoint of “Clearest Blue” (at precisely 2:32 in this video, to be exact), Tara and Darcy kiss, for all the world to see, in an unashamed display of love between two women, all the while Nick looks on in amazed wonderment, the lights pulsing and lighting him up in the colors of the bisexual pride flag, admiring the moment in a hopeful bliss and an awed euphoria.

This show had already transfixed me right from those opening moments in episode one when we first met Charlie, but it was this scene in episode three that thoroughly, utterly, and transcendently transfigured my hope and optimism for a possible world that ought to be. A world of enduring heroes, of brightest stars, of unending love unshackled by any demon, bully, or villain. I had never seen a show quite like this until now, and what a gift it is that such television could exist to evoke such a reaction! And I again find myself feeling more happiness than I can ever fit in my heart that it bursts into a jubilee of intense tears of joy!

This joy springs Nick to eventually find Charlie sitting down back on the couch from earlier, both gleaming with happiness as they rejoin the company of the other. Nick reveals that he doesn’t want to hang out with his rugby friends anymore, Charlie labeling them intimidating, Nick declaring, “I’d rather hang out with you anyway,” and then commenting while holding Charlie’s hand about how proud he is that he dealt with Ben. They both decide to go to a quieter place, Nick taking Charlie by his hand through the crowd until they race their way upstairs to an empty room. It’s a playfully happy moment that just makes me smile.

In this room we get to witness a really tender moment between Nick and Charlie, and it unfolds at just the right pace and with the characteristic elegance we’ve become acquainted with. The energy between the two characters is practically physically visible as they sit on the floor, backs against the wall, sparks of electricity flying between them as Nick oh-so-gradually reveals his feelings to Charlie. Charlie eventually places his hand on the floor next to Nick, and their pinkies touch at first, animations of sparks igniting between them, the whimsical music of Adiescar Chase kindling the moment to an impossibility. Eventually Charlie and Nick kiss in a sweet moment of delicate affection, cautiously at first, but then all together wholeheartedly seconds later.

Sadly, the moment is interrupted as we hear Harry calling out to Nick, and Nick seems to run away from Charlie in a fit of fear and anxiety that he made a terrible mistake. Nick is cornered by Harry and the rugby lads and the room they are in is tellingly lit in the hues of blue we’ve come to associate with the changing room, which is itself the symbol for conflicts and lies. In this moment, we see that sometimes bullies do stamp out the light, as Nick is forced to confess that earlier he was just in a mood and that Harry’s remarks about Charlie were just banter. While it’s deeply frustrating to see the tender moment between Nick and Charlie get interrupted like this, only to end with Nick conceding something that isn’t true (a moment of his real personality being re-buried), it is necessary for the show to display this reality, that sometimes bullies do win. And it’s horrible.

Nick tries to go back to Charlie, but Charlie has already left the party, perhaps feeling that he also made a mistake by kissing Nick. And by the next morning, it’s raining, and for the first time, it feels like an episode might end on a really sad note.

But it doesn’t. There’s a knock at Charlie’s door, and Charlie opens the door to find Nick soaked in the rain. “Hi,” Nick says. “Hi,” Charlie responds, an echo of how they first greeted each other in episode one. But this echo is colored by a melancholy of uncertainty rather than a sun of warmth.

The color palette within how Nick is shown, however, provides a clue that there is a glimmer of hope. We look out of Charlie’s front door to see Nick framed in the doorway, a golden brick home in the background, the warm colors of the house recalling the vibrant sun that lit Nick up when we first met him in episode one, suggesting that in this moment Nick’s real personality of tenderness and warmth is still glowing bright, despite the bullies stamping it out the previous night. It’s clear that a brightest star still awaits all of us in the next episode.

Final musings for episode 3:

Imogen’s story continues to develop in this episode, as we see her infatuation with Nick grow to somewhat obsessive levels. It’s so difficult to play a bubbly young woman who is obsessed with someone who doesn’t like her back without it becoming an annoying caricature, but Rhea Norwood delivers a stunning performance that somehow manages to make me like Imogen—despite her bubbly, obsessive personality—while also feeling such sadness for her as her love for Nick remains unrequited.
We get to meet Tao’s mom, Yan, played by Momo Yeung, and she is an absolute delight. When she welcomes Elle into their house for movie night with Tao, she gushes, “How are you doing, my love? New school okay? In you come! I’ll put the kettle on!” It’s just such a genuinely friendly moment and it makes me feel so happy to see such love shared so openly. Tao even jokes, “I swear to god, she loves you more than me.”
We also get to meet Charlie’s dad, Julio, played by Joseph Balderrama, who is so protective of Charlie as he drives him to Harry’s party, advising him to call him if he needs anything. Towards the end of the episode when his dad picks him up, Charlie is visibly upset about what just happened between him and Nick, and Charlie just breaks down crying. His dad hugs him lovingly in the car, “It’s okay, I’ve got you, everything’s going to be okay,” he supportively consoles. It’s a tender moment between father and son that I can’t overstate.

How Sweet and Wonderful Life Can Be: Returning to New Orleans, Day 4

What I Find Is Pleasing: Returning to New Orleans, Day 3

Fever All through the Night: Returning to New Orleans, Day 2

Living Easy, Loving Free: Returning to New Orleans, Day 1

Heartstopper, Series 1, Episode 8: “Boyfriend”

Heartstopper, Series 1, Episode 7: “Bully”

Heartstopper, Series 1, Episode 6: “Girls”

Heartstopper, Series 1, Episode 5: “Friend”

Heartstopper, Series 1, Episode 4: “Secret”

Heartstopper, Series 1, Episode 3: “Kiss”

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