Big Boys Offers a New Dawn for Queer Coming-of-Age Stories
Photo courtesy of Dark Star Pictures
For Queer stories, “coming-of-age” often involves coming out. Narratives about Queer adolescents mainly focus on the stress of navigating identity and the complexities of acceptance—both from within themselves and from their families and communities. Although Queer narratives that explore sadness and pain are essential, they often dominate the media landscape, overshadowing stories of joy, love, resilience and community. The trope of Queer tragedy continues to permeate the film and television landscapes, especially when straight creatives pen these stories.
In contrast, The 2023 film Big Boys is a refreshing counterpoint to this trend. Written and directed by debut filmmaker Corey Sherman, the film follows 14-year-old Jamie (played by Isaac Krasner), who is excited for a family camping trip with his beloved cousin Allie (Dora Madison). However, his plans take an unexpected turn when Allie invites her new boyfriend, Dan (David Johnson III), to join them. Initially resistant, Jamie’s perspective shifts as he becomes attracted to Dan, allowing the story to explore the nuances of self-discovery amid the pressures of adolescence.
The complexity of queerness and the human experience is not solely defined by suffering. Big Boys embraces this idea by weaving moments of humor and warmth into Jamie’s journey, celebrating the triumphs and discoveries coinciding with embracing one’s identity. This focus on joy and authentic connection highlights that Queer media can—and should—encompass a wide array of emotions and experiences, offering a fuller representation of Queer adolescence. Through Jamie’s evolving understanding of himself and his relationships, Big Boys paints a vibrant picture of the hope, beauty and joy accompanying the self-acceptance journey.
Big Boys effectively uses comedy to connect the viewer to its central characters but relies on quieter moments to ground the viewer in the story. The film tonally bounces between comedy (often cringe-comedy) and pathos of adolescent self-discovery, a tone that is difficult to strike successfully. The film utilizes its performances and focuses on the editing by Sherman and Erik Vogt-Nilsen, making adept use of the silent reactions from the characters. In the film’s final scenes, Sherman times the emotional beats especially well. Although the story never lingers, and its runtime is a brisk 90 minutes, the editing still makes time for the quieter moments of silence. The cinematography by Gus Bendinelli also aptly utilizes the location and open space, delicately using Jamie’s gaze to steer the film. Each shot in the outdoors utilizes the campground’s vastness and the location’s beauty to frame its characters.
Because Jamie is so profoundly sympathetic and relatable, the film can evoke a palpable discomfort for viewers. It expertly elicits a sense of cringe-worthiness in Jamie’s behavior, reminding us of the often painful awkwardness of adolescence—the desperate attempts to fit in, to appear calm, and to be liked by others. One particularly awkward scene features Jamie lingering and monologuing outside Allie and Dan’s tent while they are clearly preoccupied, creating an almost unbearable tension that adds a refreshing unpredictability to his character. Watching Jamie’s journey can be an excruciatingly familiar experience, simultaneously heartwarming and uncomfortable for all those who have navigated those tumultuous years. It can often induce cringe, but never at the expense of its characters. The viewers are encouraged to laugh alongside Jamie and all his quirks and root for his success and growth.
The way Krasner expresses his attraction to Dan via his physicality – quick glances, biting his lip, an awkwardly nervous stance when trying to appear more confident – is effectively subtle. Krasner’s performance, imbued with hope, authenticity, and clumsiness, is consistent and understated, with impeccable comedic timing and the confidence of a veteran actor. Jamie is also well written; rather than being a caricature of teenage awkwardness, Jamie is more three-dimensional in scope–astute and creative, a skillful chef, and a Barefoot Contessa stan. Rather than succumbing to typical tropes of juvenile angst, Jamie is confident and kind. Though he is desperate for approval from Dan, he remains firm in his abilities, unafraid to show his talents and vulnerabilities, making him an endearing lead.
Jamie’s brother Will, portrayed by Taj Cross (of PEN15 fame), personifies the toxic masculine pressures that weigh heavily on Jamie. Brash and openly homophobic, Will clings to a rigid performance of masculinity that demands dominance and a facade of coolness. When the brothers encounter a group of teenage girls from a nearby campsite, Will insists that Jamie connect with Erika, an anime-loving teen played by Marion Van Cuyck (also a PEN15 alum). He forces Jamie to stay, ignoring his evident discomfort.
After their interaction, Jamie lies to Will about his connection with Erika. Although Jamie recognizes that he mistreated Erika, he still sacrifices her feelings to conform to the misogynistic expectations of masculinity and the internalized homophobia he battles. In a poignant moment, we see Erika connecting with another boy after Jamie, granting her the agency and confidence she deserves rather than relegating her to a mere device for Jamie’s character development. Van Cuyck infuses Erika with a specificity that elevates her beyond a caricature or simply a foil for Jamie.