‘Heartstopper Forever’ movie review: A tender, bittersweet farewell to a show unlike any other

For over four years since its debut on Netflix, Alice Oseman’s heartfelt ode to teenage love has transported viewers to a near-utopian reality, with a language so refined, sensitive, and honest that it leaves you wondering whether there will ever be another piece of YA fiction that speaks to you with as much empathy and precision. As I write this review of Heartstopper Forever, the feature-film finale of the Heartstopper series, I yearn to stay a little longer with Charlie Spring (Joe Locke) and Nick Nelson (Kit Connor) in their blanket forts, at park picnics, and on beach dates. As do they.

It’s the last year of school for the Truham-Higgs gang, and we take off from the events that closed a rather heavy Season 3. The soft pastel aesthetics, neon doodles, and gentle music take us back to Truham and Higgs, but as the inevitable end of the road appears, newfound anxieties surface. The fear of eventual separation lurks around the corner, but Oseman ensures the writing eases you into the heaviness at the centre of it all — even if it comes at the cost of occasionally treating high-schoolers with candy-flossy naivety.

Elle Argent (Yasmin Finney) and Tao Xu (William Gao) know in their bones that their chapter might end up in painful parting. Our sweet friend Isaac Henderson (Tobie Donovan) has embraced his asexual identity, as does Charlie’s sister Tori Spring (Jenny Walser), who is in a fulfilling relationship with Michael (Darragh Hand). Imogen Heaney (Rhea Norwood) finds love; after embracing bi-curiosity in the previous season, she now wonders if guys do it for her anymore. Tara Jones (Corinna Brown) and Darcy Olsson (Kizzy Edgell) seem alright as they plan on going interrailing together — and disappointingly, that’s all the space the finale offers them.

The breezy first act introduces our favourite characters so organically that you begin to wonder if the film might end up working even as a standalone feature — except the rest of the film stays with Charlie and Nick so much so that it almost forgets that much of the sheen of that puppy love comes from how the rest of the group go about their lives. The finale has so much to say in so little time that it only hurriedly sprinkles moments of friendship at appropriate points. That said, Oseman’s series is known for consistent character writing and weaving emotionally resonant interpersonal arcs, and the film sees the fruit of that effort; a lot gets conveyed effectively with minimal fuss, and even the smaller moments make a mark — be it when Tao and Nick, foes-turned-confidants, converse, or what the mere presence of his bratty brother does to Nick.

Oseman hits a home run especially with how Charlie and Nick are written in the finale. It’s nothing short of heroic to see the evolution of Charlie, from a bullied and abused queer kid who was outed forcibly to now being the school’s Headboy, a position that he promises to use to end bullying and make Truham safe for queers. Being a good boyfriend is the one thing that Nick had always been sure about, but as we soon realise, he may not be so sure any longer. After being the gentlemanly emotional pillar of the whole group, Nick is at his most vulnerable in the finale.

An evening that starts as a harmless outing at a pub, where Charlie’s band Queer Intentions is playing, turns out messy after Nick starts chugging shots. His insecurities surface, and we realise that a lot has been going on behind those yearning eyes. Nick’s past with an overbearing parent throws him astray as he spirals in fear of not being good enough for Charlie (surprisingly, a trope quite similar to the ones we saw in the recent hit series Off Campus and Heated Rivalry). Protecting his boyfriend is all Nick cares about, and that isn’t without cause — Charlie’s eating disorder threatens to resurface when Nick refuses to open up to him, and thus begins a cycle of heartbreak. Oseman’s measured writing ensures you feel every beat through these tumultuous stretches, and you might often find yourself reaching for the tissues.

As it has always done for over three seasons, Heartstopper Forever speaks of teen love and queer love through refreshingly sensitive lenses and offers a nuanced look at how identity, mental health, allyship and friendship intersect. How often has a nightmare about a loved one dying led to young adults dealing with their suppressed separation anxiety? At one moment, Nick displays a rather difficult compulsion that stems from that anxiety to immediately search for wounds in the other that need a fix. Relationships are such specific experiences that it can hurt to let other relationships alter your definition of them. Charlie and Nick learn it the hard way, after letting Tao and Elle’s complicated on-and-off — and the whole “teenage relationships don’t last” belief — get to them. But Tori comes to the rescue in one of the most touching moments of the show when she says, “Maybe our together is not the same as your together or the normal sort of together. But it’s ours, and we’re happy with it.”

One of the most enduring moments of queer euphoria comes in the sub-plot revolving around Charlie’s mission to open a Pride club at the school, an initiative that gets rejected by a superior. This is when our favourite queer teacher, Mr. Ajayi, shows up with a nugget of wisdom: “Historically, us queers have never asked permission to exist,” he says.

Of course, the finale might invite the same criticisms that previous seasons of the show have attracted — like playing it safe with sanitised sex scenes and a few seemingly big emotional conflicts resolving sooner than expected — but Oseman’s is a show that has repeatedly championed hope over hopelessness and love over hate. And perhaps that means that sometimes conflicts end rather smoothly, and sometimes you need to underplay the sex to ensure that message doesn’t get hindered in a climate where sex-positive media is yet to be normalised among YA audiences.

Towards the end of Heartstopper Forever, an elderly gay couple have tea at the cafe Charlie works in, and as it does for Charlie, watching them made me drift ahead to a future where Charlie and Nick are together and well; where Charlie speaks up for queers and Nick is still helping scared pups find takers; where popular artist Elle lives with Tao in Berlin in a world that no longer hates trans people; where Darcy and Tara are still travelling around the world; where Isaac has published many bestsellers; and Tori and Michael are happily themselves; and so on. Of course, relationships may not last. But the love sustains, now and forever.

Heartstopper Forever is currently streaming on Netflix