The titular Fire Island off the coast of New York has been a historic haven for LGBTQ+ people.  Noah (Joel Kim Booster) and Howie (Bowen Yang) are no different.  The two lifelong pals along with Keegan (Tomas Matos), Luke (Matt Rogers), and Max (Torian Miller) convene every year for a weeklong getaway at Erin’s (Margaret Cho) house, a lesbian woman who serves as a sort-of surrogate mother to the group of friends.  With the sad news that Erin is forced to sell the house making this their last summer on the island, Noah, setting his own personal conquests aside, makes it his mission to see that Howie meets a boy while on vacation; a task that proves far more difficult than it sounds. 

Directed by Andrew Ahn written by Booster for release by Twentieth Century Studios on Hulu, Fire Island is an aggressively and unapologetically queer, adult skewing rom-com, landing on the streamer just in time for Pride Month.  It is a big step forward for queer cinema as it is one of the very few gay films that found a big studio release – even if it was a streaming exclusive – that was not centered around heartbreak or the AIDs epidemic of the 1980’s.  Recently, things have begun to shift as Love, Simon (2018) broke ground being one of the first major releases to merge gay themes with the high school rom-com template reaching upwards of 2,400 screens.  Coincidently, the same studio backed both films, then Twentieth Century Fox, and while Love, Simon received some criticism on its casting of straight actors in queer roles, Fire Island was much more conscious of hiring for both on-screen and creative roles.  It is hard to say if it made a truly notable difference given the disparity between the characters – Simon, a high school teenager still coming out while Noah and his gang are all out and proud – but there is an undeniable authenticity to Fire Island that is rarely seen on screen.  

At the head of the film is the duo, Noah and Howie, and the two actors have incredible chemistry from the start. The film does not go too deeply into their backstory, but it feels lived in as they have their inside jokes, their cute –isms, and an almost shorthand way of talking to each other. There is a lot that can go unsaid between the two and the caliber of the performances fill in the gaps for the audience. We may never know the nitty gritty details of their story together, but it is not necessarily needed because we understand that the actors know their character’s lives and to delve into the histories of this massive ensemble cast would be better suited as a miniseries. Oddly enough, Fire Island was originally conceived as a Qubi series, but as it is presented it feels like a fully formed film even though it does suffer from some balancing issues. 

There is no other way to put it, this cast is huge. Not only are we following Noah and Howie’s house, but the house of the people the pair is courting. Howie is awkwardly flirting with Charlie (James Scully), Noah is denying his interest in Will (Conrad Ricamora), Cooper (Nick Adams) does not approve of his friends’ interest in the less-wealthy protagonists, and when Dex (Zane Phillips), an ex-flame of Will, shows up the dynamics become even more strained. It is just too much plot to work through in the 105-minute runtime that the script suffers under the weight of serving each of these characters. It is a hard problem to reconcile because on one hand the variety of personalities on display here is inspiring as it helps break down some of the queer stereotypes often found in media proving there is no “one way to be gay” so you do not want to lose that, but the middle act finds itself so unfocused and sprawling as it reaches out to all of these characters to keep them involved in some way with the main narrative. 

For a rom-com, Fire Island has plenty of rom, and thankfully a decent bit of com, too. Off the bat there is a lot of cattiness and shade being thrown between the friends, but it does have a nice banter feel and not too malicious and Booster is able to vamp in Noah’s voiceover throughout the film, too. The most surprising thing about the comedy of the film is there is quite a bit of situational humor at play and those jokes land far more reliably than the snarky quips. The humor plays a nice foil to the themes at play in the script such as revenge porn, polygamy, and identity. With the exception of revenge porn which the film whole heartedly condemns, Fire Island does not come to and hard and fast conclusions on how partners interreact with on another, again helping to break the stereotypes that exist regarding queer culture and validating the various ways to practice in that culture and fulfill one’s individuality.  

Fire Island is a special film because of its confidence. It takes huge strides forward in showing male love to a wider audience by bringing it outside of the art and international houses. While it has an inherently queer identity, it is not exclusive in its accessibility; all people can come together and enjoy the film. Those in the community may, understandably, find more to attach themselves to in the narrative and see shades of their lived reality displayed on screen, but Fire Island is not an alienating experience. It follows the ebbs and flows of the rom-com template and grafts itself onto the structure of Jane Austen’s 1813 novel Pride and Prejudice unlocking some of the universal themes that can speak to us all: a desire to be oneself and find acceptance in those around us.