Drew Burnett Gregory is back at TIFF, reporting daily with queer movie reviews from one of the world’s most prestigious film festivals. Follow along for her coverage of the best in LGBTQ+ cinema and beyond.
Rarely has a film been as aptly titled as J Stevens’ feature debut Really Happy Someday. The title is a promise and a begrudging admittance. Life doesn’t have to be hopeless to feel hopeless in the moment — a fact most trans people know too well.
The film follows Z (Breton Lalama), a trans musical theatre performer who has recently started on T. He’s still remembered for his Eponine in Les Mis, so when he bombs an audition singing his tried and true “On My Own,” he begins to spiral. Before he understood his gender, he had musical theatre. Has finding one truth abandoned another? Will he ever be able to sing again?
As he struggles to figure out his next steps, Z finds a range of rejection and support. His agent (Perrie Voss) wants him to give up musical theatre and move solely toward film and television, while his girlfriend Danielle (Khadijah Roberts-Abdullah) still believes in his Broadway dreams but only because it aligns with her desire to move to New York.
Z gets a job bartending and it’s here he finds true mentorship in his boss and fellow trans guy Santi (Xavier Lopez). Their friendship — and flirtationship — encourages Z to take singing lessons. This provides the film with some of its loveliest moments as his new teacher (Ali Garrison) encourages Z to embrace his developing instrument rather than yearning for the past.
There’s a pressure on trans people and trans storytellers to frame transition as a wholly positive experience. Any negativity is supposed to be external. It’s palatable to show harassment and abuse due to moving through the world as a trans person — less so to admit there are personal challenges that often manifest too. But change — even good change, even life-saving change — can be difficult.
Z’s vocal change acts as a microcosm for being trans, a literalization of how awkward it can be to step into oneself. When Z bemoans how different singing feels, his teacher wisely suggests that different was the whole point. It’s an assimilationist talking point to say that who you are before transition and who you are after is the exact same. It’s lovely to see an on-screen portrayal of the ways this big change can result in a bunch of little changes. Maybe your perfect relationship will reveal to have run its course. Maybe your sexuality will evolve. Maybe you’ll find yourself more extroverted. Maybe you’ll have to reassess your relationship to alcohol or sex or money or art.
Co-written by Stevens and Lalama, Really Happy Someday pulses with the personal. It’s the latest in a series of exciting trans slice-of-life films that should have existed a decade ago, but I feel grateful exist now. Lalama’s performance anchors the film and his changing — and powerful — voice feels essential to the film. There’s no doubt that Z was a rising musical theatre star pre-transition, nor any doubt that he will rise once again.
Lopez is another standout in the cast, embodying the very queer blurred line between trans mentor and exciting new love interest. We’re at a place in trans media where even our best stories are largely focused on transition and the early days. Lopez’s performance is a compelling argument for a feature about someone like Santi, seven years on T, but still messy enough to fall for his baby trans employee with the gorgeous voice.
Lalama isn’t the only trans voice we hear. The soundtrack consists of a wide range of trans musicians with a variety of vocal registers. It’s a lovely touch that underlines the larger point that transness — and medical transition specifically — is not limiting but rather an opportunity to expand and rediscover oneself anew.
Being an actor is both another quality of Z’s character and an apt metaphor for his transness. After all, transitioning and pursuing a life in the arts have much in common. It’s a commitment to a higher happiness, a trust that momentary struggle will pay off. You may not be happy right now, but take the risk and you can be really happy… someday.
