Review: Heartbreak High needs to follow the advice every teenager needs to hear - just be yourself

created by Hannah Carroll Chapman

Review by Zoe Witenden

As a purveyor of teen drama, from the trash to the treasure (although I am not up to date with Stranger Things - don’t hate me), I was very keen to see something fresh in Heartbreak High. I have always loved escaping into fictional worlds, and I especially enjoy the way that television allows an effortless absorption of self. But with Heartbreak High, it was especially exciting to see my world of Sydney on the screen, and high school experiences so much like my own in fellow ostracised teens. I am a little jealous of the teens getting to watch this now, because maybe if queerness and feminism was portrayed as this cool on such a massive platform ten years ago I would have had a bit of a different high school experience.

This reboot of the 1999 series of the same name is a lot closer to treasure than trash, but like every other 2012 Tumblr girl I crave a Skins-esque grittiness closer to the original, which would have fit the Australian context better than the signature Netflix sparkle.

Popular girl turned social pariah Amerie (Ayesha Madon) is the spirited lead of Heartbreak High. Set in a surreal version of Sydney suburbia, the show follows her and a diverse group of peers as they navigate love, sex, relationships and their behaviourally mandated sexual literacy classes at Hartley High. The show is a tear-jerking, emotionally raw experience tackling some very important issues, but it tries to be something other than itself straight off the bat.

What makes Heartbreak High unique, and great, is its vulnerability, its moments of grit, and the sprinkles of dry wit atop an Australian perspective.  Most of these moments rely on the complex characters that make the show actually worth watching.  The secondary characters here are the ones that really shine.

You have probably already seen the immense praise this show has received for its next level representation. This praise is well-deserved. It’s beautifully queer, and shows characters facing the trials and tribulations of finding and staying true to themselves in a world that still doesn’t quite accept them. I have to say, Hartley High is the least homophobic portrayal of high school I have ever seen, but I did unfortunately spend that time in my life having Catholicism shoved down my throat. But the raw moments as they learn to build relationships with their friends, parents and ultimately themselves — all the while facing sometimes immense adversity - will have you well and truly in your feels.

The familiar backdrop of native bird songs and rental bathrooms is a comforting aspect of seeing a contemporary Australian television series on Netflix. The show also shines a harsh light on some urgent issues our country needs to face, particularly the faults of the police and criminal justice system, from the abysmal talks we get in high school about sexual assault to the unjust treatment of Indigenous Australians. I remember sitting and seething through these borderline victim blaming talks from police, and I was both glad to see such an experience mirrored in Heartbreak High and frustrated that these processes seemingly haven’t improved. Heartbreak High mirrors another dark part of Australian culture and its institutions that not many of us will ever experience. Thomas Weatherall as Malakai delivers a truly heartbreaking performance of the traumatic consequences of police brutality; a reality we all need to be confronted with. 

Unfortunately, the show strays away from what makes it important, authentic, and distinctive from the very beginning. The opening scene between younger versions of Amerie and her lifelong best friend Harper was reminiscent of Euphoria’s childhood throwbacks. My face scrunched itself up while I watched the attempt at comedic edge with the swinging camera and quick shot changes as the six-year-olds swear at each other before becoming besties for life. Such scenes in Euphoria have a heavier tone, but on top of the resemblant camera work and narration, the characters here in Heartbreak High are portrayed with a similar kind of maturity beyond their years, which left me feeling short changed. 

Luckily the soundtrack starts off strong, with ‘Final Form’ by Sampa the Great. Driving beats introduce that teenage energy you’ll never get back, and my head bop hinted to me that I was going to enjoy this watching experience after all. ‘Cherry Lips’ by Garbage comes next, backing a classic drive to school scene as it takes us back to the turn of the century. This scene is an homage to the original series, and we see many a nineties and noughties throwback throughout with subtle film references (think Clueless and 10 Things I Hate About You), some tracks that will make you chuckle if you were born before 2000, and especially much of the fashion choices.

The costuming in Heartbreak High is fun, but also reminded me of Euphoria at times. There are plenty of matching sets, face glitter, expensive dresses and even an over-the-top costume party.  Although these costuming choices help to express the characters’ unique personalities, the acting is strong enough that we didn’t need the extra cues. It also feels a little disingenuous considering it is a show about public school kids in Australia; these are supposedly kids from a majority working class background. 

The original series is uniform-less too, but why go as far as to have characters wearing three-hundred-dollar dresses to the club? There is a lot of pressure to look a certain way as a teenager and social media does a great job of making young people feel inadequate for what they can’t have or look like. For a show that pushes this message of being comfortable in your own skin, it's odd that there is so much emphasis on fashion. Was it all just to make everything so Instagrammable? For their clout in RUSSH magazine and their pop-up costume shop on King Street in Newtown? To be “cool”? It feels a little shallow when the show deals with so much real shit.

Beyond costuming, some of the show’s concepts are a little too similar to that of another contemporary teen dramedy. Sex Education, as you might guess from it’s title, deals us the same ideology of teenagers needing more progressive sex ed in schools. Not to say that it isn’t an issue we need to address in our own backyard, but it often felt like Heartbreak High was trying too hard to capture the quirky English humour of Sex Education. Hartley High, like Moordale, is placed in this strange place just outside of reality — but not quite far enough. When a great deal of the series is tackling real teen issues in real settings, this context is slightly confusing.

This quite special Australian teen dramedy series could have relied upon its characters, the actors who played them, and its strong narrative. It didn’t need to try to be anything else. The Heartbreak High reboot could have been good art, rather than just a good show, with just a bit more dram-, and less -edy. Still, I am keen for a second season, and let’s hope it dives deeper.


Heartbreak High is currently streaming on Netflix.

Zoe Witenden wishes she was a teenager now instead of when she actually was one because it might have sucked a bit less. She is a bit of a sook and a bit more of a perfectionist. You can find her taking selfies @zo.wit.

This article has been generously donated by Zoe.

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