TV Review: "Heartstopper" (Season 3)
The beloved Netflix series is even more poignant than ever, as its characters experience the pain and the joy of young adulthood, but the love between Nick and Charlie burns as brightly as ever.
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If you’ve been a subscriber to this newsletter for any length of time, then you no doubt already know that I’m a devoted fan of Heartstopper, the Netflix series based on the graphic novels of Alice Oseman. I’ve devoured every season almost as soon as it came out, and this most recent one is no exception. In an era in which Netflix seems more than happy to pull the plug on any number of queer-led shows, the fact that Heartstopper has made it this far has come to seem nothing short of a miracle. While the possibility of a fourth season is still very much up in the air (more on that in a moment), I’m still going to unabashedly celebrate that we’ve had this much of an opportunity to celebrate the beautiful and poignant romance between Joe Locke’s Charlie and Kit Connor’s Nick, who are sure to be seen as one of the best gay couples to have ever graced the small screen.
Now, I know there are some who seem to take an extraordinary delight in taking this show to task for its purity or its prim tone or its sense of moral superiority. To my mind, though, many of those criticisms tend to say much more about the person lodging them than they do about the show itself, which remains the same as it has always been: heartwarming and sweet and poignant, nothing more and nothing less. I certainly don’t see the smugness that its critics do, unless by smugness they mean sincerity. And, honestly, what’s wrong with sincerity? I, for one, loved this show, and I’ll be honest. I cried at almost every episode. Sue me.
Each season of Heartstopper has increased the emotional stakes for its characters, giving us stories that feel emotionally authentic and yet also, true to form, remarkably utopian. The world that the series paints is one that I think many queer people, regardless of how old they might be, would like to inhabit. This is one in which significant others have their beloved’s best interests at heart and will do anything to save them from hurt, where people can grapple with their sexuality without fear of judgment from their friends, where queer love always manages to win the day.
This isn’t to say that Heartstopper is afraid of engaging with serious real-world issues, because that is certainly not the case. Indeed, the emotional spine of this series is Charlie’s escalating mental health issues. We saw in the last season that he has long struggled with both self-harm and with an eating disorder, which puts pressure on his relationships with both his own body and with Nick. Matters only get worse when the two start talking about taking their relationship to the next level, and he lashes out at everyone around him, including his parents, his sister, and Nick.
Heartstopper is really quite adept at making sure that we understand both sides of the equation here. We get many scenes of Charlie coming to terms with the truth about his mental health–both at the hospital and in his regular life and in sessions with his therapist (an always-solid Eddie Marsan), and I give Joe Locke a great deal of credit for being able to give us a character who is remarkably nuanced and complicated. Charlie isn’t perfect, and he often pushes away those who are doing their best to help him in whatever way they can, but he ultimately comes to terms with his need for outside help. It’s really quite extraordinary to watch a character grow and mature like this over the course of three seasons, and Charlie’s arc remains one of the best things the series has given us.
Just as remarkable is Kit Connor, who has always been a highlight of Heartstopper and is even better this season than he has been before. Some of the most poignant moments in this season are those in which Nick sees that something is wrong with Charlie–he isn’t eating, or he just looks distressed–and he rushes in to try to help in whatever way he can, even though he is also a kid and doesn’t really know what he’s doing. As anyone who has ever been in a relationship with someone with significant mental health issues can attest, however, just loving someone isn’t enough, and those who aren’t trained to handle these situations sometimes have to make the painful choice to confront those they love and try to get them the help they so desperately need. It’s heartbreaking to watch the pain in Nick’s eyes, particularly in the first few episodes, and I was reminded again and again of why I love this character so very much.
At the same time as they are both dealing with all of these issues, Nick and Charlie also hit some important milestones in their relationship. They finally break the seal on saying that they love each other–always a major moment in any relationship, whether you’re an adolescent or a full-grown adult–and then there’s the question of sex. These are two teenage boys, after all, and their hormones start running wild. This being Heartstopper, they don’t go into too much graphic detail once the two decide to seal the deal, but I appreciated the way that the series both tied their consummation into the larger story about Charlie’s struggles with body acceptance and with the need to be open and honest when it comes to communicating one’s desires to one’s partner. It’s a lesson that many, old and young alike, would do well to take to heart.
Time and again this season we see the ways that Nick and Charlie are growing up both as people and as a couple. They’ve gone from being the moonstruck boys of the first season to young men figuring out what it’s like to be a young adult and how to work together to make a relationship grow stronger. Thus it’s no surprise that they spend a great deal of the season apart, in part because Charlie spends part of it in a mental health facility and in part because Nick ends up touring various universities as he ponders his future. They learn again and again that they are strong both together and when they’re apart.
There is, then, something particularly resonant and remarkable about one of the final scenes of the season, which sees Charlie going on stage with his band and Nick desperately racing back from his uni visits desperate to, once again, be the rock of strength that Charlie needs. However, Charlie gets up on the stage even before Nick gets there, having finally found the self-confidence that has so long eluded him. This entire moment shows one of the truths that they’ve both come to realize as this season has gone on: they’re better together, but they can definitely survive on their own, too. As Nick contemplates what he wants his university life to look like and Charlie also begins to think more comprehensively about his future, this is going to be a lesson they’re going to learn again and again.
While Nick and Charlie have always been the beating heart of this show, each season has slowly expanded its narrative so that we get more of the other characters, and this season is no exception. For me, the most resonant of the secondary storylines is the one focusing on Tao and Elle, who also have their fair share of struggles and bridges to cross as their relationship matures at a fast pace. There’s something remarkably refreshing about Heartstopper’s ability to be both frank and gentle in its exploration of thorny issues, and this is very true in the way that it handles Elle’s sense of herself and her body. Take, for example, the moment when she ends up going on a popular radio show in order to talk about her burgeoning art career. Unfortunately for her, it’s not long before the host is asking for her take on various anti-trans measures being taken in the UK. This moment, combined with an earlier incident in which Elle has a moment of panic as Tao tries to take things to the next level physically, reminds the viewer of the many trials trans folk face in their daily lives.
There are numerous other stories that also play out over the course of the season. Bookworm Isaac contends with the reality that he might be aromantic and asexual, while Darcy realizes that they are nonbinary. Even our dear, awkward (but good-hearted) Imogen realizes that she might be bisexual, or perhaps something else. Heartstopper offers a veritable panoply of sexual and gender identities, showing the remarkable diversity that exists at the heart of the queer and trans community.
I would be remiss if I didn’t also mention two of the more outstanding secondary performances this season. One is from Hayley Atwell, who portrays Nick’s Aunt Diane, a much-needed source of reassurance and support for him as he grapples with Charlie’s illness. I’m sad that Olivia Colman wasn’t able to return for this season, but Atwell makes for a fine replacement. Jenny Walser also gives an extraordinary performance as Charlie’s wry but deeply compassionate sister Tori.
That being said, I do think that some of the criticisms that suggest that the series’ focus on other characters has tended to sideline Nick and Charlie are justified. I obviously love spending time with these other folks, but I would have liked to see a bit more time with the two of them. They’re the whole reason that many of us signed onto this show in the first place, after all, and for me their romance remains the core of the series as a whole. Besides, they’ve both worked so very hard to get where they are and to grapple with themselves as people that it’s high time that they get some more time together to celebrate those achievements.
Obviously I was happy that the season ended on a happy note, with Nick and Charlie curled up in bed together, having finally found pleasure and comfort in one another’s arms. Given the fact that we don’t yet know whether there will be a fourth (and presumably final) season of the show, this seems like a natural place for their story to come to an end. I truly do hope that Oseman manages to finish the sixth volume soon and that Netflix gives the greenlight to another season, because I am, as you might have guessed, very very invested in these characters, their lives, and their loves.
When I began this series two years ago, my investment in the burgeoning love between Nick and Charlie had as much to do with my own yearning for a past in which I’d also had such experiences as much as it did the romance that I was watching. Now, however, my relationship to the show is a little different. There’s enough daylight between me and these characters that I don’t necessarily find myself identifying with them but have instead become simply wanting them to live their best lives, hopefully with one another. I’ve seen so many fictional couples end up parting ways for one reason or another, and I for one think that it’s high time that gay people (even if they are fictional) get the chance to forge a long-term relationship, and perhaps even a marriage, with their high school sweethearts.
Heartstopper has shown time and again that it is one of those series that has staying power and is willing to tackle some heavy material while never losing sight of its essence. It has only gone from strength to strength and, even if it had never become the treasured queer classic that it is, it still gave us Joe Locke and Kit Connor, two of their generation’s lovelist performers who clearly have a very bright and promising career in front of them.
Whatever lies in store for Nick and Charlie, I know that they will be able to find happiness, whether that ends up being on their own or, as I desperately hope, together.