Heartstopper season 2 review: British teen romance recaptures lightning in a bottle
The Netflix series returns with enchanting, joyous, and grounded portrayals of queer love
Heartstopper felt like a delightful anomaly in season one, a rare breezy four-hour watch in which it was impossible to stop grinning (or weeping joyfully—or both). Adapted by Alice Oseman from her graphic novels, it was wholesome and unencumbered despite weighty subject matter, making it emotionally soothing to witness Charlie (Joe Locke) and Nick (Kit Connor) find their way to each other. With its trademark animated fluttering hearts, floating leaves, and flashing lights, Heartstopper bloomed into a winner—and became one of The A.V. Club’s best TV shows of 2022. So the big question is: Will season two, which premieres August 3, have that same magic?
Fear not, because the Netflix series recaptures lightning in a bottle. Yes, you will still smile from ear to ear during these stellar eight new episodes. (The show seriously has no right to be this gosh darn cute). Oseman’s source material, a giddy ensemble, and a commitment to tenderly displaying queer romances help Heartstopper stay in top form. The show enriches its characters’ love lives, personal histories, and internal insecurities. The issues, too, are decidedly mature here—the pressures of how and when to come out, eating disorders, family troubles—but handled with the same level of empathy. Which is all to say Heartstopper pretty much feels like the ray of sunshine we need right now.
In a winning move, the two leads are given sufficient time and space to evolve individually and as a newly minted couple. It’s a nice way for Locke and Connor to exhibit their lovely, undeniable chemistry and their own skills as actors. They excel at taking advantage of the constant pull between their characters. Just try not rooting for Charlie and Nick’s precious bond. (You can’t; it’s impossible.) Their relationship is still a secret from everyone except for a close-knit friend group and loved ones. It just means they get closer while navigating uncharted territory in class. But the longing is palpable, and that’s half the battle in a romantic comedy. The other half is writing.
Heartstopper embraces classic school and genre tropes, with prom, exams, exes, and overnight trips all part of the season-two fun. Yet the scripts commendably avoid clichés. A former flame isn’t a catalyst for Charlie and Nick to fight unnecessarily. Instead, it becomes a cathartic way to let go of the painful past together. Academic and familial baggage plays out across the season, concluding in a grounded, sensible way. Heartstopper isn’t over-the-top even if it features a big slumber party, teenage drinking, and a consequential game of truth or dare. These pivotal rites of passage for any YA series (and real-life teens, of course) are broached with a relatively fresh perspective.
Some of the performances and dialogue are admittedly cheesy, though. Then again, what 15- and 16-year-olds aren’t corny as hell upon discovering the joys of holding hands, sneaking out, harboring a crush, and having passionate first kisses? This includes Charlie and Nick’s BFFs, like Tao (William Gao) and Elle (Yasmin Finney), who finally attempt to admit their feelings to one another. Meanwhile, the well-established relationship between Tara (Corinna Brown) and Darcy (Kizzy Edgell) grows further despite some fumbles. Isaac (Tobie Donovan), a book lover to his core, also finds unexpected solace while everyone around him discovers romance.
So yes, it’s enjoyable to watch these teens unabashedly explore the inevitable highs of being carefree and curious—but with those highs also come the lows. And Heartstopper truly soars when it digs into each of their personal problems. This isn’t a sitcom in which a crisis is averted by the end of a half-hour episode. That’s not to say the storylines here can’t be familiar and lighthearted. Let’s take Nick as an example. His difficulties in telling his distant father and brother that he’s bisexual persist in season two and are a contrast to his experiences with his loving mother (Olivia Colman, who’s back to subtly chew up the scenery).
And to its credit, the show handles this topic with care, rather than for manufactured drama. It elevates Heartstopper from being a joyous rom-com—which it is—to a TV show capable of leaving an impact on the youth watching it. Plus, it doesn’t just cater to one demographic. Heartstopper invokes nostalgia about the buoyancy of teendom, especially in its finale (set to one of Taylor Swift’s most potent songs about childhood friendships).
Heartstopper matures its protagonists (and therefore itself) in season two. It remains a dreamy must-watch that’s neither theatrical nor over-the-top, making it a great antidote to plenty of other coming-of-age TV shows. So do yourself a favor and carve out four hours for another non-stop binge.
Heartstopper season two premieres August 3 on Netflix