Alex Strangelove ⭐ 🎯

The film walks a careful tightrope. It avoids the trap of making Claire a villain. She’s smart, sensual, and genuinely confused by her boyfriend’s clinical approach to intimacy. Their disastrous attempt at sex—complete with a condom that might as well be a live grenade—is one of the most painfully funny and honest scenes in the genre. It captures the gap between what we think we should want and what we actually feel.

Alex Strangelove may not be the most polished or groundbreaking entry in queer cinema, but it earns its place. For any teen who ever built a flawless plan for their life, only to realize that desire refuses to follow a syllabus, this messy, funny, and deeply kind film is a small revelation. It argues that the bravest thing you can do isn’t coming out to the world—it’s coming out to yourself. Alex Strangelove

In the pantheon of teen coming-out comedies, Alex Strangelove (2018) occupies a specific, awkward, and utterly recognizable niche. Directed by Craig Johnson and released on Netflix, the film doesn’t try to be the next Love, Simon —a glossy, heartfelt anthem. Instead, it’s a smaller, messier, and surprisingly sharp exploration of what happens when a meticulous, type-A high school senior realizes that his carefully planned future doesn’t fit his heart. The film walks a careful tightrope

At its center is Alex Truelove (Daniel Doheny), a name that feels almost cruelly ironic. Alex is a good student, a good boyfriend, and a good son. He and his equally charming girlfriend, Claire (Madeline Weinstein), have designed the perfect senior year roadmap: lose their virginity to each other in a scheduled, tasteful, low-pressure “sex weekend.” For Alex, a self-proclaimed "planner," this is the logical final step. The problem is that Alex has been looking at sex as a checkbox, not a feeling. Their disastrous attempt at sex—complete with a condom