THE STORY – After moving to a small Oregon town to live with her estranged father, young Coley meets the charismatic Sonya, her boyfriend, Trenton, and the rest of their friends. Content to observe from a distance, Coley gets pulled into their world as sparks start to fly between the new girl and the popular girl.
THE CAST – Maya da Costa, Myra Molloy, Levon Hawke & Zach Braff
THE TEAM – Hayley Kiyoko (Director/Writer) & Stefanie Scott (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 95 Minutes
Directorial debuts are the big story in Hollywood so far in 2026. Everybody seems to be watching and, mostly, loving “Backrooms” and “Obsession,” and their Internet-bred directors, Kane Parsons and Curry Barker. Much of the fascination surrounding them stems from the “original” concepts that power their films and their “non-traditional” origins as filmmakers, both of which got their start making content on YouTube. There’s admittedly something exciting about the way these filmmakers have captured the zeitgeist. Still, they’ve also sucked all the air out of the room, leaving little remaining for fantastic debut features from underrepresented voices, like Aleshea Harris’s blazing feminist Southern gothic “Is God Is” or Adrian Chiarella’s upcoming queer horror “Leviticus.” But in this landscape, Hayley Kiyoko and her debut feature, “Girls Like Girls,” occupy a difficult space. The pop star/actress has been in the industry since she was a child and has been directing her own music videos for the past ten years. Faced with an industry that didn’t know how to deal with her as a female, a person of biracial descent, or as queer, Kiyoko became the change she wanted to see in the world, co-directing the music video for her single “Girls Like Girls,” which she later expanded into a novel, which she has now adapted into a full-length feature film. She created a lane for herself and has driven confidently, if slowly, down it, gaining experience and close collaborators along the way. While “Girls Like Girls” isn’t nearly as splashy as those other recent debuts that have captured everyone’s attention, Kiyoko makes a strong case for herself as a uniquely sensitive storyteller, one who can take a deeply personal story and turn it into a piece of art that taps into universal feelings.
“Girls Like Girls“ is a classic coming-of-age story set in the early ’00s. Following her mother’s death, Coley (Maya de Costa) has moved to a new city to live with her father (Zach Braff), a man she barely knows. It’s summertime in rural Oregon, so all Coley can do is ride around on her bike and explore. At the local convenience store, she catches the eye of a group of local teens. Curious about the quiet new girl, they invite her to a private hangout spot, but it doesn’t take long for the popular asshole Trenton (Levon Hawke) to go overboard with the teasing and drive her away. His on-again/off-again girlfriend, Sonya (Myra Molloy), however, takes it upon herself to seek Coley out and make her feel welcome. The two girls are drawn to each other and break down each other’s walls, eventually sharing a passionate kiss. But in a time when being gay was still considered a massive social liability, will their burgeoning relationship survive the summer?
Kiyoko and co-writer Stefanie Scott don’t stray too far from the queer coming-of-age formula, for better and worse. Some elements of the story don’t feel developed enough, as though they rely on clichés to do some of the work for them. Outside of Coley and Sonya, the characters are barely developed, most notably Trenton, who essentially serves as the story’s main antagonist. This should be a problem, but between the plot machinations and Hawke’s tightly-wound performance, the character comes across as more archetypal than clichéd, a stand-in for that one good-looking dick in everyone’s high school friend group. Similarly, the genre-mandated misunderstandings and breakups can feel more motivated by storytelling conventions than by the characters themselves, but Kiyoko and Scott use them to move the characters forward into the next phase of the story in a way that feels much more organic.
While the screenplay can often feel more like a story sketch than a fully realized one, Kiyoko’s direction fully fleshes it out, immersing you in Coley’s world. The wistful, lightly melancholic tone beautifully captures the feeling of being a teenager treading water in a sea of heightened emotions and hormones, sure that there’s a way through but struggling to stay afloat. Heightened by Jessica Rose Weiss’s moody score and some choice needle drops, the film’s tone stays consistent throughout, never once tipping over into treacly territory. Kiyoko’s command over tone and pacing is perhaps her strongest asset as a director. “Girls Like Girls“ is deliberately paced, but it never feels slow due to how Kiyoko engages your attention; what would otherwise be dead space is full of detail, whether it’s a slow pan around Coley’s room to establish her living space or silent moments of connection between Coley and Sonya. Working in close concert with cinematographer Sonja Tsypin, Kiyoko creates a sense of emotional intimacy with the camera, slowly drawing closer to her characters without ever feeling invasive. While the film is relatively chaste, it’s emotionally rich, foregrounding the characters’ emotions instead of their desire. Sex isn’t on the film’s mind so much as acceptance, empathy, and honesty are, leading to a film that feels more emotionally mature than most similar films.
Molloy and da Costa play Sonya and Colie’s insecurities with such perceptive honesty that nearly every scene they share feels revelatory. The soft, insecure, grieving Coley and the self-possessed, flirty, hard-edged Sonya feel worlds apart at first, but the performers’ natural chemistry is so potent that it brings them together. The effect they have on each other after they act on their mutual attraction is just as palpable: Sonya soon grows more insular and fearful, while Colie gains confidence. The way da Costa changes her body language as Sonya comes into her own is incredibly moving to watch, while Molloy’s deft handling of Sonya’s “pretty girl privilege”, constantly using her body and closeness with others to get what she wants, puts an indelible spin on the popular girl trope. Molloy’s vivacity is undeniable, and the way her light seems to shine on anyone she’s talking to makes it easy to see why anyone would fall for her. Despite the naturalistic tone Kiyoko prefers, the performances feel incredibly vivid; fully realized portraits of two young women going through the painful, confusing process of learning who they are.
Our teenage years are pretty widely acknowledged as a terrible time for everyone, especially for those of us who identify as queer. Even just coming to that realization can be a painful experience, especially in a time and/or place where queer people aren’t accepted. While this film takes place in the not-too-distant past, the early ’00s were still a massively different time for queer people socially: “Will & Grace“ had only just begun its prime time television run, and civil unions for same-sex couples were still only a thing in Vermont (gay marriage wasn’t even on the table yet). While the fear that rules Coley and Sonya’s lives isn’t as recognizable today, the emotions they feel are. In foregrounding those emotions, Kiyoko has created a film that feels like a gift to young queer people everywhere. Her open heart extends to nearly every character, creating a warm, inviting aura that makes the film a joy to watch. The patient pace and grounded storytelling keep the clichés rooted in something real, giving the film the specificity it needs to be impactful. Kiyoko’s direction, unflashy but perfectly attuned to the characters’ emotional state in every moment, gives the film the hushed, intimate quality of a whispered secret. This meaningful choice highlights the film’s themes. “Girls Like Girls“ announces Kiyoko as a filmmaker of great emotional maturity, one who can speak to young audiences without pandering to the hyperactive style that dominates the other media they consume. It’s a perfect film for Pride.
