Season one of Netflix’s Heartstopper was one of 2022’s most joyful surprises: a coming-of-age series that delivered a mostly lighthearted (but never fantastical) depiction of the contemporary coming-out process. At every turn, it felt possible that the show could lapse into sappiness and sentimentality, sanding down the harsh realities of the queer experience to produce an easily digestible, feel-good story. But it’s a credit to writer-creator Alice Oseman (who wrote and illustrated the graphic-novel series of the same name) and director Euros Lyn that it never got to that point.
Sure, Heartstopper may not be truly radical queer art, but it doesn’t need to be. Its refusal to linger too much on queer trauma is gratifying in its own way, and its dedication to portraying its teenage cast as realistically naïve while letting them demonstrate at times surprising maturity is one of the show’s biggest accomplishments. It’s easy to build a series with the phrase warm hug in mind — Googling the phrase alongside the show’s title yields endless results — but it’s harder to do that without skimping on conflict or interesting character stories.
The first season of Heartstopper had the benefit of focusing mainly on one love story in particular, that of Charlie Spring (Joe Locke) and Nick Nelson (Kit Connor), the latter of whom was just beginning to discover and explore his bisexuality. In the finale, Nick finally let himself go all in, whisking Charlie away to the beach and expressing his desire to come out to his friends and family. That grand romantic gesture provided the perfectly heartstrings-tugging conclusion, especially with Nick’s tear-jerking confession to his supportive mother (Olivia Colman). It ended the season on an unambiguously happy note and would’ve worked just fine as a series finale if Netflix felt like cutting the story short.
So season two has its work cut out for it; how do you follow up such a satisfying, hopeful conclusion? Of course, Oseman’s comic has in total four volumes of published material for the show to adapt (with two more announced), and in some ways the series’s more developed ensemble allows for even more freedom. But that, in itself, is a challenge. While the other kids in Charlie and Nick’s friend group have their own interesting stories going on — including Tara and Darcy’s relationship and the sexual tension between best friends Elle and Tao — they’re all fundamentally supporting characters in the story of Charlie and Nick. There’s plenty of potential to the idea of delving deeper into their lives, but will that come at the expense of the central love story?
For now, I’m not super-concerned. “Out†feels of a piece with season one, suggesting some intriguing paths forward without losing focus or dropping the fun. The episode begins with a getting-ready-for-school montage on the very next morning after Nick comes out, letting us luxuriate in the sweetness of first love. (The use of “Shatter†by Maggie Rogers helps.) They’re in their own world, volleying emoji-laden DMs back and forth nonstop until they can see each other at school.
From there, the story skips forward at least a few weeks. We’re still in the spring term, when season one took place, but we’re nearing the end of the year, with an upcoming joint Truham-Higgs class trip to Paris scheduled for after the year 11s finish GCSE exams. (A quick explainer for any confused fellow Yankees: I believe Charlie, Tao, and Isaac are in year 10, which corresponds to ninth grade in the U.S., while Nick, Elle, Tara, Darcy, Ben, and Imogen are in year 11, corresponding to tenth grade. “Sixth form†refers to years 12 and 13, the final two years of secondary school.) With the beginning of two weeks of study hall, presided over by the strict science teacher Mr. Farouk, Charlie and Nick are no longer in the same form class; Nick receives the ultimate downgrade in the form of a seat next to Ben.
“Out†does a nice job showing how a few hours apart can feel like a divine injustice to teenagers in love, using that feeling to justify Charlie’s return to the rugby team. But the biggest story here is about Nick’s realistic struggle to follow through with coming out to his friends. He tries starting small: It should be easy to tell Imogen, especially now that she no longer has a crush on him. (Her allyship, teasingly nodded to by Darcy, is clumsy but very well meaning.) But at multiple moments in this episode, Nick is given a perfect opportunity with Imogen and he lets it pass by. Like many aspects of coming out in 2023 — depending on the setting and personal circumstances — it seems like it should be easy but isn’t.
When Charlie’s parents are away for the weekend, he hosts a sleepover, inviting the main gang along with Imogen. It’s expressly designed as a casual hang where Nick can come out to his friend, and he eventually resolves to do it while showing her to the bathroom. In the end, though, she puts it together before he can verbalize it; after all, it is pretty obvious, especially after she witnessed Nick dramatically walking out of a rugby game with Charlie in the finale. But their hug is very sweet, even if it’s tempered by the realization that her new secret crush is Ben. You can feel how much relief it brings Nick to let someone else in. He even confidently kisses Charlie in front of everyone the next morning.
The current state of bliss between Charlie and Nick is a big contrast to the confusion between Elle and Tao, who aren’t in a scenario where they can communicate as openly. There are clearly more-than-friends feelings on both sides, but the stakes are high; one wrong move and they could rupture the most important friendship in their lives. Elle tries to test the waters with some (honestly pretty solid) flirting, but if Tao does pick up on the subtext, it seems to disturb him as much as excite him.
When Nick asks about the scenario of Tao and Elle being apart for the final two years of secondary school — she’s working on her portfolio for applying to art college — Tao reverts to the bratty Tao with whom we spent too much time in season one. His defensive snapping clearly comes from a place of denial, but his vibe just gives Elle the impression that he’s uninterested.
But it clearly won’t be possible to deny their feelings for long. The biggest element of tension in this premiere may actually come from the final scene when Charlie assures his concerned sister that he’s not worried about a return to the bullying he experienced last year. When he says that he can protect Nick and ensure he doesn’t experience any of the pressure, stress, or fear that he went through, he’s incredibly earnest but also wrong. Pressure, stress, and fear are a normal part of the process, even when personal circumstances are close to ideal. There’s no truly perfect coming-out story. In trying to create one for Nick, Charlie might end up overlooking his own needs.
Maybe it’s that opening Maggie Rogers song that best encapsulates Charlie’s slightly delusional promise: “I don’t really care if it nearly kills me / I’d give you the world if you asked me to / I could break a glass just to watch it shatter / I’d do anything just to feel with you.†It’s a euphoric celebration of unconditional love, mostly. But sometimes caring about someone else more than yourself comes with a price.
Love Notes
• There’s a moment during the sleepover when we see Isaac noticing how paired up everyone is, so I’m assuming (and hoping) he’ll get a little more attention this season, perhaps related to his relative inexperience with (or disinterest in) dating.
• I would very much like to try one of those Cadbury Dairy Milk Oreo Chocolate bars that Charlie buys Nick for their two-month anniversary.
• I love the moment when Imogen says, “You didn’t like me because you’re gay,†and Nick replies, “I’m bisexual, actually.†It’s funny, of course, but I’m also glad the show acknowledges the irony in the writing; before we knew Nick was bi, it seemed like the reason Nick didn’t like her was because she’s a girl, but in retrospect, we understand that his platonic feelings toward her have little to do with his sexuality.
• Charlie’s parents don’t necessarily respond with warmth when they hear that their son is dating Nick, but there’s something almost comfortingly casual about it anyway. “No hanky-panky till you’re married†is a line that countless straight teenagers hear from their parents, so hearing it from the parent of a gay kid conjures some phantom nostalgia.