By Jai Deans

After weeks and weeks of anticipation and careful planning, my newfound college friend and I went to go see the smash hit (no pun intended) queer teen movie Bottoms. One Friday morning in September, we took the bus to the East Towne Mall and explored, making sure to cultivate the quintessential lesbian shopping experience. We presented our perforated punch cards to aloof Spencer’s employees to claim our free septum jewelry, shopped around Barnes and Noble in search of the best edition of Virginia Woolf’s Orlando, and even gorged on all you can eat pasta at Olive Garden. Despite all of our mall time fun, right at 7:30 we made sure we were sitting in our seats at the Flix Brewhouse theater, patiently waiting for Ayo Edebri and Rachel Sennott donning multicolored rugby shirts to appear on the screen. 

The movie started and I was immediately enthralled and slightly confused. Right out the gate, I laughed at all of the clever jokes augmented by the incredibly strong acting, but I also had a weird feeling in my stomach. I was loving the movie, but something about it made me feel weird and even mildly uncomfortable and I couldn't understand why. The film had everything I love to see in the media I consume: campiness, grim humor, even a touch of surrealism, so why was it that it made me feel so off? I couldn’t figure it out at first, but eventually it clicked. 

Bottoms made me feel vulnerable. It made me feel exposed. 

Throughout the film, Josie, the protagonist of the movie played by Ayo Edebri, openly talks about girls, sex, and being gay in a way that is rarely seen in film. As the film went on and on, I slowly realized that I just wasn’t used to seeing characters like the ones depicted in the movie. I wasn’t used to seeing queer characters say crass and out of pocket things. And I definitely wasn't used to seeing queer characters, specifically lesbians, talk about sex in the way we’ve seen straight film characters talk for years. Watching Josie as she talked about “playing the long game” with her love interest, Isabel, felt like looking in a mirror. She’s just like me: an awkward, queer black girl with awkward queer black rizz. I saw so many parts of myself in her. She’s goodhearted, but also really messy. She’s funny and kind, but also a bit of a liar. 

Josie and the other queer teens in the movie are the perfect anthesis to the idea of “good” queer representation. Similar to the straight teens we’ve seen in cinemas for decades, the teens in Bottoms don’t care about being perfect or even good people. They’re just normal teens who often make morally questionable decisions to get what they want, with what they want being popularity, intimacy, and sex, specifically sex with girls. Josie and PJ (the co-protagonist played by Rachel Sennott) are a breath of fresh air in the current age of perfect, overly-sanitized queer characters. Dissimilar to many gay characters we see in the media today, Josie and PJ are perfectly ok with being crude and unlikeable, especially to straight people. Rachel Sennott and Emma Seligman, the writers of Bottoms, created a film that humanizes gay people, finally appeals solely to queer audiences and doesn't worry about depicting gay characters for the straight audience. Josie and PJ don’t play opposite any straight protagonist. They aren’t the gay best friend to any straight teen. They aren’t especially witty, sassy, or ambitious. They’re just gay (and honestly pretty lame). Also, unlike other classic LGBTQ films, such as But I’m a Cheerleader or Brokeback Mountain, homophobia is not central to the story in Bottoms, but rather a comical aside that serves as the punchline to some jokes within the broader narrative. Josie, PJ, and the other teens in Bottoms don’t provide the straight audience with some sort of insight into how to be a better ally. They just exist. 

In short, to all my LGBTQ folks (and even my straight allies), go see this movie and see what it means to be messy, horny, and even a little bit problematic. Revel in Josie and PJ’s imperfections, laugh at their out of pocket jokes, and most importantly learn to be okay with being imperfect.