THE STORY – Z, a transmasculine theatre performer, bombs a pivotal musical theatre audition, unable to control his voice after starting testosterone 12 months earlier. To save his own life and livelihood, Z must rediscover himself and his voice.
THE CAST – Breton Lalama, Khadijah Roberts-Abdullah, Xavier Lopez, Ali Garrison & Katharine King So
THE TEAM – J Stevens (Director/Writer) & Breton Lalama (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 90 Minutes
Z (Breton Lalama) was a rising musical theater star before he started taking testosterone as part of his transition. His agent still sends him on auditions for female roles, and he struggles to sing the songs with which he once captivated audiences. His supportive girlfriend (Khadijah Roberts-Abdullah) still wants to move forward with their planned move to New York City, even though Z protests that his Broadway dreams have likely ended. Instead, Z gets a job at a local bar and seeks out a vocal coach to try to rebuild his voice. Shelly (Ali Garrison) is sympathetic to Z’s plight and gives him exercises to stretch his voice and feel comfortable in his new range. She also asks him to pick a goal song he’d love to be able to sing. With his sights set on “Favorite Places” from “Ordinary Days,” Z sets about the hard work of transitioning to the next phase of his new life.
J Stevens’s “Really Happy Someday” begins boldly, with Z imploding and lashing out after painfully bombing an audition. It’s a tall order to ask for sympathy for a character who acts like such an asshole in the opening scenes, but Lalama (who co-wrote the screenplay with Stevens) proves up to the task. After the abrasive opening, he finds Z’s heart and wears it on his sleeve, ensuring the audience understands that Z’s opening outrage reflects his inner turmoil. He doesn’t excuse his behavior and instead tries his best to own it, which is a mature thing to do. The actor is a natural with charisma to burn, and he’s unafraid of getting down and dirty when the material calls for it, going to some truly ugly places as Z struggles with the fact that he is becoming a new person. He’s not ready to say goodbye to who he was just yet, or maybe he’s not sure how and isn’t sure of what his new goals are. Having the song to focus on provides an anchor, and the vocal lessons Z attends similarly anchor the film. Garrison radiates maternal teacherly warmth, and the rapport between them feels completely natural; these scenes often feel improvised rather than scripted.
That natural quality becomes the film’s calling card. Everything feels lived-in, and the chemistry between the actors – whether friendly, romantic, or otherwise – always feels real. Nothing seems forced, although Z’s romantic arc in the film mirrors his journey toward acceptance of his new life a bit too much. This never feels overly cutesy or too neat, just a little obvious. Then again, given the general lack of trans narratives in cinema, providing this element to help the audience understand what’s going on inside Z’s mind (and body) is probably a good choice to ensure they get it. It’s tricky to bring an audience fully into a different lived experience from their own, but Stevens and Lalama prove incredibly adept at it, having Z cry out for help and having the world reach back with what he needs. He’s essentially relearning how to live his life, and we all need a lot of help in our first few years on this planet. The empathy shown towards Z by the people around him could be seen as idealized. Still, because everyone also gives Z shit when he deserves it, it instead becomes a primer for the audience on what life feels like for a young trans person and how to support them when they stumble.
There aren’t many films out there that can truly effect change in the world, which “Really Happy Someday” does. Through its naturalistic performances, thoughtful screenplay, and wide empathetic streak, the film tells its story in a way that draws you in and forces you to see its characters fully. The screenplay comes from a deeply personal place due to the simple power of the words Z uses to describe his struggle. The vocal lessons provide a perfect externalization of his internal conflict, and the wisdom provided by Shelly – and also by Santi (the wonderful Xavier Lopez), Z’s coworker at the bar who happens to be a trans man who has been on T for eight years compared to Z’s nine months – never talks down to either Z or the audience. Breaking down to Shelly after a rough lesson, Z laments that his voice will never get better, “not like it was.” Shelly replies by saying something that seems obvious: “Isn’t that the point?” It very much is, but even people going through a transition don’t always realize how much they will change during the process. Yes, you’re becoming who you always were, but you’re simultaneously becoming someone new, and that won’t always agree with the life you thought you wanted before you transitioned. It’s a complicated, confusing thing, but with “Really Happy Someday,” Stevens and Lalama explain it to the world with such clarity that you leave the theater with a newfound appreciation for what trans men have to endure. That’s the power of good cinema.
