Everything in Heartstopper looks the way it feels. The key to Heartstopper’s unmistakable swooning impact is how well it performs the exact translation that Nick finds so hard. What happens in that limbo space between knowing something about yourself and publicizing it? Why doesn’t the internal feeling of a thing translate more easily to the outer self? But Nick hasn’t yet come out to the whole school, which is the fuel for much of this season. Nick has realized he’s bi, and his friendship with Charlie has transformed into playful, disbelieving days of wrestling and sneaking off into darkened hallways to kiss. The Netflix adaptation of author and writer-producer Alice Oseman’s gay teen romance graphic novel series picks up right where it left off with its two leads Nick ( Kit Connor) and Charlie (Joe Locke) in the rapturous throes of discovering your crush really likes you back. Especially as the show has extended outward to tell more stories about Nick and Charlie’s friends, Heartstopper starts to feel notably careful, like it’s been written from a defensive stance. But season two can’t always balance them with the same sense of ease that glowed out of the first season.
Both seasons are full of soaring earnestness and palpable caution, two instincts that reflect familiar teenage impulses. It’s true to the tone of Heartstopper’s first blockbuster season, which captured something almost unbearably tender about teen romance and the experience of gradually understanding your sexuality. Heartstopper, sweet as a s’more, sincere as a PSA, has returned for a second season of good intentions and painful self-consciousness.
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