After giddily devouring the trailer for Happiest Season months ago, I’m shocked at the chilly reception of what’s easily the best queer rom-com to exist. I saw what we’ve all been longing for: a gay movie that is directed by a woman and stars actual queer people. I couldn’t wait until Thanksgiving when I could finally watch it. The day finally came when it dropped on Hulu, and I didn’t waste any time. My wife and I watched it together, laughing at earnestly silly Jane, cringing at some of Harper’s confused decisions, and crying when they all came together as a family at the end. It was not only heartwarming, but also deeply moving, and hit on some complicated family dynamics that I didn’t expect while also not losing touch of the Rom-Com genre. I loved it.

So you can imagine my horror and surprise when I took to the internet to rave about this film and join in what I was sure would be general gay revelry, instead to only near universal negative or neutral coverage. I watched in horror as the torrential downpour of seemingly every queer or queer-adjacent review dragging it across Twitter like a badge of honor.

A lot of this confuses me, but there are a few points I find myself coming back to repeatedly.

Chiefly, the idea that Happiest Season is somehow about assimilation threw me for a loop. I’ve read that word again and again in long diatribes about why Happiest Season isn’t good enough for the Queer Community™, and the more I try to understand it the more confused I become.

What exactly is assimilationist about this film? Is it that Harper and Abby want to get married? I’m so tired of pitting the community against itself; polls are flawed, but some have up to 58% of queer couples who have been together longer than a year are married. (And oh by the way, it is a civil right that our queer elders fought their hearts out for.)

Maybe it’s because Harper comes from a conservative family? I don’t get it either, but more than 73 MILLION people voted for Trump this year. I’m going to guess that there are some gay kids born to some of these 73 million Republican voters who can identify with this experience. Hell, even the most accepting, liberal parents have bungled accepting their children’s sexual identity. No one actually comes from a perfect family, and that’s one of the strongest points of the film.

Is it because Harper isn’t out yet? 100% of queer people lived during a time that they were closeted, at least those of us who are pushing 30 or older, like myself. Being closeted means you’re experiencing life as a lie, fundamentally unknowable to yourself and to those who you aren’t out to. It makes life lonely, and it’s not something that anyone chooses for themselves -- the closet thrusts itself upon us all in the form of heteronormativity. I’m gonna bet that all of us have made some strange choices when we were trying to understand our identities, so to me, crucifying a fictional character at the altar of hot-takes because she’s messy while trying to find herself is emotionally dishonest.

After all, the film addresses this issue head on, with Dan Levy’s character John consoles Abby, played by Kristen Stewart in this exchange:

John: Hey, Harper not coming out to her parents has nothing to do with you.
Abby: How could it not?
John: Remind me, what did your parents say when you told them you were gay?
Abby: Um, that they loved and supported me.
John: That's amazing! My dad kicked me out of the house and didn't talk to me for 13 years after I told him. Everybody's story is different. There's your version and my version, and everything in between. But the one thing all of those stories have in common is that moment right before you say those words. When your heart is racing and you don't know what's coming next. That moment's really terrifying! And once you say those words, you can't un-say them. A chapter has ended, and a new one's begun. You have to be ready for that. You can't do it for anyone else. Just because Harper isn't ready doesn't mean she never will be, and it doesn't mean she doesn't love you.

Happiest Season uses this moment to address the obvious elephant in the room, which is that Harper has fumbled and hurt Abby while she tries to balance her two identities of big ol’ lesbian vs. Upper Crust WASPy daughter. No one is trying to say this is ideal behavior, and this heart wrenching moment that Dan Levy knocks out of the park speaks for itself.

Plus, movies aren’t about healthy relationships. Do you know how boring a healthy relationship movie would be? A plot cannot exist without tension, so this Abby + Riley (Aubrey Plaza) thing is amusing at best and judgemental at its worst. Not only would Riley swooping in to prey on a vulnerable relationship be yet another toxic lesbian trope, it would also not be authentic to the genre of rom-coms in general.

As the director herself says in this interview with Variety regarding the demand for Abby to break it off with Harper and fall into Riley’s arms:

“I think that has less to do with the movie and more to do with your philosophy on growth and forgiveness. Writing this movie from the perspective of a 43-year-old woman who has not always been my best self — it was a long, windy, messy road to get to the person I am now. I’m very proud of the person I am now, but I haven’t always been that person. It’s understanding that sometimes you have to go low so you can figure out your way back up. And I understand the impulse to just cut and run, and be like, to hell with this. But I also really believe that people can get better, people can grow, and people can change. They can recognize that maybe their behavior is not as good as they know it can be, and that they make a conscious effort to change it.
I also believe that being closeted is really painful. It’s not an easy place to be. And I think having compassion for someone in that situation is really important. The character of Harper is someone who I think feels a lot of shame about it — she feels bad. None of this is, like, easy for her, you know?
I’ve spent four years with Harper — I feel like I understand her, and I love her so much. And I think she’s worth it. I want what’s best for all the characters in the movie. And I think the message that you can mess up, and that you can do the work and get better is really important. And be kind to yourself, and have compassion. Because I think compassion is in short supply.”

Yes Aubrey Plaza as Riley is hot, but should she be a homewrecker?

Romcoms do this -- it’s all about the romance, then a threat to that romance (family, another person, etc), and then coming back together at the end, eloquently explained by Kristen Stewart in another Variety article. If that’s not your jam, maybe you don’t like this genre in general. I just googled “romcoms plot” and the first thing that popped up is “The basic plot of a romantic comedy is that two characters meet, part ways due to an argument or other obstacle, then ultimately realize their love for one another and reunite.” Y’all go write your Abby + Riley fanfic and let this movie breathe, k?

So, if it’s none of those reasons that’s causing the endless negative buzz in the LGBTQ corners of twitter and instagram, finally I have to guess it’s because they are -- gasp -- happy at the end? I thought we’ve been screeching at the heavens to end the sad gay movie trope for decades?

This brings me back to my central point: There is nothing assimilationist about this film. The queer experience is intersectional and non-discriminatory; by living as a queer person we are creating queer culture, whether we are living “traditionally” or not. There are millions of queer people who are represented by this film and have lived parts of these experiences, and the dismissive attitude that these persperctives aren’t valid is really heartbreaking to see. Just as we accept that sexuality and gender are spectrums, so too is queerness and queer culture. Also, it’s a strange concept to decide what and what isn’t “normal” “traditional” or “weird.” Who are you to judge? Seriously?

It is not inherently “less queer” to end up in a happy, monogamous marriage than to live in a big city in a polyamorous pod getting tattoos or edgy haircuts or whatever. Queer people make queer culture by simply existing, and there are millions of queer people living in conventional spaces whose experiences are worthy and important. These queers are not made traditional or conventional by existing in those spaces, those spaces are made queer by queers living in them.

Next on my docket of weird buzz around this film, it disturbs me that my own community somehow sees these experiences in Happiest Season as unworthy of enthusiasm because the two main characters are cisgendered lesbians. The film is not bad just because it doesn’t have X, Y, or Z identity in it. Lesbian films are whole and worthy in and of themselves, and it smacks of lesphobia and internalized misogyny to see this film and decry it as unworthy and boring simply due to it being focused on two women.

This discourse is all starting to feel a little bit “I like her, but she’s (insert Hillary Clinton, Kamala Harris, Elizabeth Warren, Stacey Abrams, etc.) not right for this role” for me. If you only root for women in theory, you’re not rooting for women, you’re just adding to the endless tin of misogyny that permeates our culture.

For decades people have been outraged at the lack of gender parity behind the scenes, and when we finally have a gay woman at the helm the community turned its back on her. (By the way, Clea DuVall has been paying her duuuueees since before y’all were born/out to yourselves.)

DuVall with Natasha Lyonne in But I’m a Cheerleader, 1999. — DuVall with Natasha Lyonne in *But I’m a Cheerleader,* 1999.

When we demand representation and actually win it, we should appreciate that instead of tearing it down for not being exactly what you personally want. I agree that we should stretch the envelope and include more experiences and identities into popular storytelling, and I am all here for that. But you won’t, for example, find me critiquing a film about the gay or trans or non-binary experience because it doesn’t have enough lesbians in it. Maybe it’s time to examine why we’re not dragging Christopher Nolan or the MARVEL franchise, either of whom could play a black screen for two hours and earn millions, but we’re roasting DuVall as well as any other queer creators at the stake for not being enough, for not being right.

DuVall and all the other creators of this film have fought tooth and nail to be where they are in Hollywood, a notoriously deeply unwelcoming environment to authenticity, and managed to make a LESBIAN film that boasts bonafide stars in Kristen Stewart, Aubrey Plaza, and Dan Levy; that those stars are themselves queer is even more awe inspiring. This is it! This is the big time. This is what we’ve been waiting for!

Most of what is considered the best of queer film and television already falls short of this mark. Many queer classics are made by straight people, starring straight people. That we are so quick to dismiss this shockingly queer cast and crew sickens me. That is not supportive to the community, that is derision for derision’s sake. This is a mainstream, big-budget Hollywood rom-com, up there with the likes of Crazy Rich Asians and Bridget Jones’s Diary. A true staple, an icon. This film is not only a funny, instant-classic Christmas rom-com, it’s also gay as fuck. That is revolutionary in and of itself.

Furthermore, let us compare a few other juggernaut Christmas classics (as defined by Rotten Tomatoes) and see just how queer they are.

It’s a Wonderful Life - 0% queer
A Charlie Brown Christmas - 0% queer
Miracle on 34th Street - 0% queer
Elf - 0% queer
Home Alone - 0% queer
Love Actually - 0% queer
The Family Stone - 10% queer, side character gay brother

Are you starting to get my point? The discourse holding Happiest Season’s feet to the fire is so, so misplaced that I struggle to imagine what hoops a queer Christmas rom-com would look like if it were good enough for all the snide jokes endlessly deriding this well done, earnest film. The mental gymnastics it takes to put this movie down as not being gay enough is borderline psychotic. This is a win for the queer community as a whole, and we are so much better as a collective than when we needlessly tear each other apart.

That’s not to say I don’t think we can have different ideas of what representation looks like. I believe in dreaming, in making your own stories, in wanting to see new experiences and new stories told. I’m not saying that you can’t just dislike this film -- it’s not everyone’s cup of tea -- nothing is. The issue I take is that this film is wrong for not being the very thing you wanted it to be. Let’s celebrate what is. Doing so does not mean we have to take our eyes off of the horizon, it just means we’re going to party and celebrate each other on the way.