As the world of storytelling broadens to include more diverse voices, the once-tired “coming-of-age” genre has, too, broadened. Though its bones will always remain universal, filmmakers of different backgrounds can speak to “growing up” in new, more novel ways. One particular subgenre within the queer coming-of-age canon is the “coming-of-gender” story, a cheeky (and, admittedly, yet-to-be-popularized) name for narratives about those either discovering their true gender or learning how to come into their own after coming out as trans or non-binary.
Though films about this topic have been made prior to the 2020s, few (if any) were made by trans or non-binary filmmakers. In a way, the genre is itself going through a coming-of-age, where filmmakers of these identities are now getting the opportunities to tell these stories with honesty and authenticity. It’s getting to the point now that the stories can get more and more specific, which winds up only making them more and more accessible and, if handled well, compelling.
All of this is to say that Really Happy Someday, the feature debut from trans filmmaker J Stevens, feels like a product of the genre’s evolution. The story centers on Z (Breton Lalama), a musical theater performer who, one year ago, began taking testosterone. He previously could belt out soprano staples to adoring audiences – notably the showstopping “On My Own” from Les Miserables – but with his transition comes changes to his voice that puts his career in jeopardy. Unable to hit the high notes, Z is forced to reevaluate his goals.
This is a story that could only come from specific experience, yet its message about both literally and figuratively finding your voice makes for a deeply resonant portrait of an artist searching for themselves when everything they’ve known is thrown into question. Its high-concept premise makes for an instantly engaging entry point into the film, especially for anyone familiar with musical theater, but this only serves to lay the foundation for a raw yet tender portrait of discovering your identity from a multitude of different areas: your gender, your career, and your relationships.
Z begins the story living with his partner, Danielle (Khadijah Roberts-Abdullah), who has applied for a travel visa to New York. She is hopeful Z can find stage success in the States, however he is less and less hopeful after losing support from his agent. Z begins working with a vocal coach, Shelly (Ali Garrison), who specializes in working with unconventional voice types, however he also begins exploring ways of earning income off-stage. He finds a job at a local bar working for Santi (Xavier Lopez), a fellow transmasculine man who is much further along in his journey with testosterone, and they begin a strong friendship.
Stevens, who also serves as cinematographer, captures the story with many intimate, handheld close-ups and long takes, putting their performers first. It’s good, then, that Stevens has assembled a strong cast, particularly with their lead. Lalama, who is also the film’s co-writer, is beautifully honest in their portrayal of Z, embracing a natural on-screen vulnerability during scenes that most actors normally would be hesitant to take on, such as injecting testosterone or binding their chest with body tape. Much of the film is based on Lalama and Stevens’ life experiences, however Lalama never allows for the interior drama of these moments to feel flattened because of that. His performance, his first as a lead in a feature film, is equal parts sensitive and charming and a gem amidst a stacked festival lineup.
This memoir-esque approach to the film makes certain moments feel like docufiction, the palpable blend of documentary and fictionalized elements seen in the works of Chloe Zhao and Jafar Panahi. Lalama and Garrison work together off-camera, so their studio sessions together feel like, more or less, the real deal. The actors’ restrained performances and natural chemistry already make it feel as though they’ve known each other for years, however Stevens’ hands-off approach in directing gives viewers an ineffably innate sense that they are, like Z, discovering a new voice in real-time. This, in particular, makes Stevens and Lalama voices to watch.
Really Happy Someday screened as part of the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival. Get more That Shelf TIFF coverage here.
