Courtney Howard // Film Critic
GIRLS LIKE GIRLS
Rated R, 1 hour and 35 minutes
Directed by: Hayley Kiyoko
Starring: Maya da Costa, Myra Molloy, Zach Braff, Levon Hawke
Hayley Kiyoko’s coming-of-age, sapphic summertime romance GIRLS LIKE GIRLS has existed and flourished in a few iterations prior to its silver screen debut. With potent lyrics about being Ms. Steal Your Girl, Kiyoko’s bright electro-pop ditty of the same name first appeared on her EP “This Side of Paradise” in 2015. Featuring vivid, bold synths over a stomping percussive beat, the song set the scene for an accompanying golden-hour hued music video (one Kiyoko co-directed) with a shy teen girl falling for a girl-next-door. In 2023, Kiyoko went deep, authoring a best-selling young adult novel based on that breakthrough hit and viral music video, which fleshed out a larger story of two young girls unsure about themselves and their futures, finding each other and falling in love.
In its latest incarnation, a heartrending directorial debut, Kiyoko has constructed a fantastic adaptation of those resonant, self-generated works of art. Written by her and one half of her music video leads, Stefanie Scott (with a story by Kiyoko and Chloe Okuno), the feature guides us through a rainbow of emotions complemented by two compelling lead performances and achingly gorgeous cinematography. Seeing lust and yearning captured not solely through the female gaze, but also a queer lens, is exhilarating. It gifts the nostalgic teen romance genre with a specificity and resonance lacking in most heteronormative entries.
Painfully shy 17-year-old Coley (Maya da Costa) has been feeling some growing pains since moving to the Oregonian suburbs from San Diego after her mom died. She doesn’t get along with her estranged father Curtis (Zach Braff), as he abandoned her when she was very young. There’s a cavernous divide between them now that they’re forced to live together. He’d like to repair the fracture, but she’s not entirely ready to forgive his past selfish actions. She’s sunken in on herself, unsure if there’s anyone on Earth who can genuinely love her. Enter charismatic classmate Sonya (Myra Molloy), whose natural beauty, easy sway and kind heart stand out to Coley.
Coley and Sonya become fast friends, going to parties, hanging out, and stealing booze from their local convenience store. It soon becomes abundantly clear to the pair that their friendly feelings are escalating rapidly and, in a moment of intense vulnerability while lounging in a remote field one warm summer day, they lock lips in a passionate embrace. However, the situation grows cold between the two almost instantly. Sonya’s worries about keeping up appearances to her on-again-off-again brutish boyfriend Trenton (Levon Hawke) and her family drive a wedge through their affections. Coley’s desperation to live her authentic truth publically causes further problems, leading to self-destructive actions. The gals must then confront betrayals and hard truths, both individually and together.
Credit: Dan Power / © 2026 FOCUS FEATURES LLC
Setting the tale in Summer of 2006 gives the picture a tangible throwback feel. From the fashions to the music and AOL Online of it all, these artistic artifacts of a bygone era don’t overwhelm, but rather serve as a distant connective memory. Sonya’s choker that Coley sports symbolizes the chokehold Sonya has over her. Sonya’s red bikini represents the love, lust and caution Coley exercises when dealing with her closeted paramour. Coley’s worn-down jean jacket, plucked out of a cardboard box in her attic bedroom, mirrors her imperfect relationship with her deceased mom – a comforting talisman rife with shredded holes. Even Coley’s yellow bike echoes the carefree nature of a childhood she’s unwittingly pedaling past, day by day, as she evolves into her adult self. There’s a delineation between the gals’ worlds, courtesy of Lindsey Moran’s production design, demarcating Sonya’s gentrified manse and Coley’s dark, cluttered, piece-meal furnished home.
As Kiyoko’s heart is undeniably rooted in the storytelling of music, she conceptualizes the emotional movements in a similar manner. Her strong suit lies in the sequences that rarely rely on dialogue to transmit their powerful atmospheric pull. Montages by editors Christine Armstrong and Sabine Hoffman hit hard, allowing shots to linger and the messaging to reverberate. Sensitive scenes showing Coley quietly exploring Sonya’s bedroom, learning about her new love, touching her trophies and tchotchkes, have a tactile quality. Coley’s longing for Sonya and for the solace of community is captured in the evocative poetry of Sonja Tsypin’s effused cinematography. The bathroom confrontation, shot through the use of perfectly aligned mirrors, provides a claustrophobic sense of inhabiting the same space as someone while being worlds apart psychologically.
That said, the film comes up a bit short when it comes to the inherent telling part of the “show, don’t tell” screenwriter adage. Kiyoko and Scott favor exposition dumps to get pertinent information across, specifically when it comes to the strained father-daughter relationship. Braff and da Costa soften most of the dialogue’s hard edges, elevating the tenderness instead of the melodrama. Sonya’s stakes dealing with her familial pressures are too sleight as there are virtually no scenes showing it. Molloy and da Costa make for a terrific yin-and-yang pairing, yet a few of the sequences play as too restrained due to the lackluster material afforded them, desperately needing either one of the girls to deliver more searing revelations through their dialogue. We’re left wishing on a few occasions for these smart girls to assert their wants and needs in the framework of Movie Moments, but instead, we’re met with awkward silence.
Molloy is a confident performer, conjuring leading lady magnetism, wit and smarts in equal measure. The scene in her mom’s car when she’s caught in the push-pull of her tough situation, struggling with her sexuality and identity, shows off her undeniable skills. Da Costa’s naturalism shines. Her heart, charm and nuance are given ample space to take shape and break our hearts. Molloy and da Costa share a scorching chemistry, amping up character rootability. Together, they’re an unforgettable must-see.
Being seen, heard and valued is everything to teens maturing into their adulthood – especially for LGBTQ+ youth. That GIRLS LIKE GIRLS exists in a multitude of milieus is a feat. Make sure to stay until the very end as there’s a short but incredibly integral scene tagged on that’s guaranteed to change your mood as you leave the theater. And while it’s hard to fault Kiyoko for wrapping on two endings when we really only need one, it’s easy to see why she structured her final note this way.
Grade: 4 out of 5
GIRLS LIKE GIRLS opens in theaters on June 19.
