The Thing About Harry – hit me hard ★★★★

When Hulu first announced its new gay rom-com, I was sceptical: a young, attractive, white tw*nk who falls in love with his high school bully … where have I heard that one before? At first, I wasn’t even going to bother watching this if it weren’t for the star of the film, my celebrity crush and true king of the twinks, Jake Borelli (move aside Timotheé Chalamet). I mean, I’m just so tired of queer media feeding us the same stale storylines over and over again — the homophobic bully turns out to be gay, the white and middle-class protagonist struggles to keep his sexuality a secret, someone realises ‘hey, maybe I’m into [insert gender here] and I’m in love with my best friend,’ etc.

However, at one of the lower points of my love life, I decided to give it a watch, and man, do I hate the fact that I actually love this film to bits! As cheesy and overdone the premise may sound, boy does it hit me in a place I thought I had buried deep down to prevent me from feeling any unnecessary emotions.

For some context of my emotional reaction to this film: this year, after years of finding the heterosexual male inherently unattractive, I fell head over heels for one. Not only that, this guy was light-years out of my league: cool, popular, exceedingly alternative, and everything I could never be. Similarly, Sam, the film’s dorky protagonist, falls in love with Harry, a man who he would never have imagined eventually marrying. Harry (Niko Terho) – what a MAN – encapsulated all the boys I believed would’ve never paid attention to me … or perhaps even avoid me at all costs.

The truth is, for many queer men (especially those of colour who are gender non-conforming), most of our relationships with other men have been contoured by harassment, bullying, and to some extent, even violence. So when a man starts treating you like a human, sometimes you can’t help but think they’re in love with you — because our trauma clouds what it means to feel loved. I can’t help but see myself in Sam’s shoes, as he starts developing feelings for someone who he’s only ever known to hurt him. I slowly brace for impact, because deep down I cannot help but feel as though the worst might happen. Except it doesn’t. They fall in love and live happily ever after.This film gave me comfort at a time where I felt the greatest anxiety. I came to realise that maybe I can find a happily ever after with the men I’ve learnt to fear — perhaps not romantically, but I’m definitely not afraid to open myself up to a potentially great friendship. There are many overdone queer storylines, and this film succeeds in avoiding one of them: that all gay love stories must end in heartbreak and tragedy.


Share on facebook
Share on twitter
Share on pinterest
Share on linkedin
On Key

Related Posts

Hope One Day

by Neelam Shah / third-placed winner of the LSESU Poetry Society’s Summer Competition Hope One Day I hope one day there will be end to

scroll to top