52 Films by Women Vol 10. 39. GIRLS LIKE GIRLS (Director: Hayley Kiyoko)

 

Pictured: Teenagers Coley (Maya Da Costa, left) and Sonya (Myra Malloy, right) explore the Oregon countryside and their own feelings for each other, in the teen romance, 'Girls Like Girls', co-written (with Stefanie Scott) and directed by Hayley Kiyoko. Still courtesy of Focus Features/Universal 

Girls Like Girls is not the first song to be turned into a movie – Girls Just Want To Have Fun, inspired by Cyndi Lauper’s 1983 hit single and starring Sarah Jessica Parker, Helen Hunt and Shannon Doherty, was released in 1985. However, it is the first to be done so by its singer, in this case biracial American Hayley Kiyoko, by way of her novel published in 2023. It is an example of a piece of intellectual property squeezed almost to its limit by its author. A musical, stage show, TV spin off, perhaps even a video game, all remain options for the artist who first released the song in 2015 and saw it become a queer anthem, the video for which attracted 100 million views on YouTube between 2015 and 2018. Unfortunately, in the US, the audience for the video didn’t come out for the movie, marketed like a teen version of the infamous swimming pool scene in Wild Things, minus Matt Dillon. Released in the US on 19 June 2026 in 504 cinemas, it grossed $2.7 million by the end of its run. The audience didn’t turn up at the screening I attended either, in Dover, Southern England; there were only four of us at the preview. This is a film aimed at teenage girls who were, by the nature of the screening (‘Unlimited’ card holders only) denied access. Way not to go.

In the event, Girls Like Girls is a pleasing throwback to American studio films, in particular those produced in the 1980s, aimed squarely at teenagers, without resorting to horror. These movies were usually defined by a central location, be it a record store (Empire Records), class detention (The Breakfast Club) or a pizza restaurant (Mystic Pizza), where teenagers would hang out and bounce off each other. One or more of the cast would break out to become stars in feature films that freed them from the shackles of an ensemble. The disappearance of the (non-horror) teen movie is one of the reasons why very few ‘pure’ American movie stars are created today. Careers (like those of Sydney Sweeney) are launched on television with a non-exclusivity clause.

So let’s give it up for Maya da Costa and Myra Malloy, the leads in Kiyoko’s film, who follow in the footsteps of Laurel Holloman and Nicole Ari Parker, the stars of Maria Maggenti’s genre-defining 1995 film, The Incredibly True Adventures of Two Girls in Love. We watch them ache on screen, never certain that their relationship will survive contact with hetero-normality.

Girls Like Girls is set in the early 2000s, when computers had limited fonts, mobile phones could only handle basic messages, and bikes had long single seats with high backs. Pagers were a thing, though their capacity to vibrate was not yet exploited for pleasure. Kiyoko, who co-wrote the screenplay with Stefanie Scott (Chloe Okono has a co-story credit), plays the period detail straight but quickly establishes a strong command over the mise-en-scene. She introduces Coley (da Costa) – short for Nicole – riding her bike close to the centre of a forest road, flanked on either side by trees. Wearing torn jean bottoms, she sheers close to the wrong side. Fortunately, there is no oncoming traffic. She is in mourning. Her mother has recently died, and she has moved to Oregon to live with her musician father (Zach Braff, barely recognisable when shown in rooms with their curtains drawn during the day, thin, grey fuzz covering his chin). Sitting alone in a diner, listening to music on an early iPod, she attracts the attention of Sonya (Malloy), who asks her to join her friends. Sonya is everything Coley is not: popular, the centre of attention and confident, not to mention the spitting image of a young Denise Richards. Kiyoko frames both girls as objects of desire, the camera emphasises their partially exposed breasts; the female gaze in a same-sex love story matches that of the male. Sonya invites Coley to join her friends at the lake, though when she does so, Sonya’s on-off boyfriend, Trenton (Levon Hawke, son of Uma Thurman and Ethan Hawke) carries her fully clothed and dumps her in the water. Coley storms off, wheeling her yellow bicycle, but Sonya pursues her and explains that Trenton is not always such an asshole. She writes her email address on Coley’s arm, encouraging her to send her a message so they can hang.

Balancing her keyboard on her knees, Coley can’t bring herself to type a message. By morning, part of Sonya’s address is smeared on her forehead. It is a surprise to her to find Sonya in her father’s kitchen. They do indeed ‘hang’, though encouraging Coley to smuggle alcohol out of a convenience store, it is more like hanging Coley out to dry. In the event, Coley walks into Sonya’s mother’s house carrying a bottle. The mother – shown briefly on screen – barely even sees it.

Pictured: Sonya (Myra Malloy) pauses before showing her competitive dance moves in a scene from the teen romance, 'Girls Like Girls', co-written (with Stefanie Scott) and directed by Hayley Kiyoko, whose hit music video and novel inspired the film. Still courtesy of Focus Features/Universal.

Ostensibly babysitting her younger sister, who is watching a cartoon, Sonya shows Coley her room, crowned by a pink circular carpet and a shelf full of trophies. Sonya reveals that she is pushed by her mother into becoming a competitive dancer. Coley asks her to demonstrate her skill. Sonya does so, but in a spin bangs her wrist against the wall. Coley demonstrates her own moves, but then Sonya rushes to the bathroom to vomit. With Sonya remaining ill, Coley shows herself out. We are not encouraged to think about the young child watching TV.

In an early scene, Coley finds herself looking at a pile of boxes in her father’s home, including one labelled with her mother’s name. Rummaging through its contents, she discovers her mother’s denim jacket. Coley starts wearing it. Her same sex desire is absolutely associated with Coley’s absent mother, the jacket representing the closest thing to feeling her mother’s skin. When her father sees Coley wearing it, he explains that it was his jacket, but he gave it to Coley’s mother. ‘It looked great on her,’ he adds. ‘And now it looks great on you.’ Coley bats off his compliment. To her, Dad was the guy who never wanted to know her. ‘That’s not true,’ he explains, ‘I wanted us to be together.’ There is no one to corroborate his version of events.

The jacket then becomes a symbol of Coley’s affection for Sonya. It isn’t long before they kiss, and Coley loans Sonya the jacket. This is after a scene where they go for a swim and Coley explains that treading water and staring at another person produces a chemical high; the two girls locking eyes in the water is used as the film’s publicity image. Just as Coley gets close to Sonya – they kiss - so the popular girl blows her off. Coley confronts Sonya at a party in the host’s bedroom. The host and a guest want to know what the two girls were doing in there.

Kiyoko is very good at capturing the tentative nature of desire, the looks and movements before a kiss is exchanged. Sonya can’t bring herself to dump Trenton. She lies about going off to dance camp. Asking her stay-at-home father to give her a ride, Coley goes to Sonya’s house to pick up her jacket, discovering that the love of her life is going nowhere. Coley’s jacket, a symbol of her love, lies crumpled in the corner of Sonya’s room.

Pausing in the convenience store by the refrigerator, Coley avoids alcohol, opting instead for iced tea. Drinking this on the kerb, she spits it out. The store’s young clerk, Blake (Alexa Mareka) befriends her before introducing her to smoking an apple at her place, then making her move. As Blake kisses Coley, Coley lies back and imagines that Sonya is on top of her. Under these circumstances, her relationship with Blake has nowhere to go.

Coley’s heartbreak is negotiated in the film’s final third as she starts work in a Japanese restaurant; tasks include seating customers, singing happy birthday and wiping down menus. Coley even starts bonding with her dad who wants ‘to get to know her better’. When Sonya and her family visit the restaurant for a meal, Coley isn’t content to pick up where they left off.

It is important to acknowledge the film’s title. Kiyoko wants to reassure audiences who have embraced their queerness that there is someone out there for them. It helps that there is an openly gay male couple working at the restaurant. Before Sonya rebuffs Coley, there are plenty of scenes of them riding bicycles and walking along a railway line. The final image before the credits roll is an expression of hope, but if you want a full-on ‘let’s just follow our feelings’ love punch, you should stay for the post credits sting. ‘Sting’ isn’t right; it’s more of a kiss. The song that inspired the film is naturally played at the end.

Reviewed at Screen 3, Cineworld Dover, Kent, Southern England, Tuesday 29 September 2026, 19:30 screening for ‘Unlimited’ card holders