Lukas Dhont thought he was doing with "Close" what Anthony Schattenman's "Young Hearts," a queer adolescent love story, did. Where “Close” used queer pain to manipulatively pull compassion, “Young Hearts” actually appears to care about its young leads. It tells the story of a 14-year-old kid who falls for the boy next door, causing him to question his sexuality and somewhat rebel against his parents. Sweet and earnest, this is the kind of film that’s easy to wrap your arms around because it understands that coming of age is inherently traumatic. It doesn't have to be overly dramatic. Lou Goossens stars as Elias, a quiet, unassuming kid living in a small village in the Netherlands. His older brother is dating, his loving mother, Nathalie (Emilie De Roo), supports his father, and his empathetic grandfather (Dirk van Dijck), who will play a significant role in his journey, works on a farm, make up the majority of his family. The quirkiest person in his family is his father, Luk (Geert Van Rampelberg), a lounge singer experiencing a brush with modest fame with a ditty he performs at retirement homes and community centers. Elias sorta has a girlfriend in Valerie (Saar Rogiers), but you can immediately measure how little he appears to be attracted to her. Elias, it might be said, only lives an archetypical life because it’s what one expects of a boy his age.
That changes when Alexander (Marius De Saeger), a kid from Brussels, moves next door. Alexander is not only from a big city but also lost his mother a long time ago. So you can see how he might be more worldly and mature than Elias, who is reserved. As such, Alexander arrives, comfortably expressing his queerness. When he and Elias begin hanging out—lounging underneath a shady tree, exploring an abandoned manor, and jumping into a pond—Alexander makes it clear he’s loved a boy before. Elias, on the other hand, has never loved anyone. As a result, their dynamic is consistent with a well-known queer trope in which the more experienced partner helps the contemplative newcomer navigate the emotional ups and downs of self-discovery. Though the cozy photography supporting this delicate story might lead some to accuse it of being twee, the film feels soothing and warm as Alexander and Elias tenderly bike down dirt roads and share furtive glances. Schattenman trusts his young leads, often allowing his gentle lens to linger on their faces as new thoughts, feelings, and passions bubble to the surface. Their excitement doesn’t metastasize in an overtly physical manner—they’re as brief and guarded as you’d expect—but Schattenman understands that for a 14-year-old, even a peck on the cheek from their first love can cause entire universes to explode.
The rural set pieces in "Young Hearts" are so commonplace that you feel like you've seen a lot of movies like this before, which is one of the few complaints that could be made about the film. Familiarity, however, doesn’t breed inadequacy. This means that my coworkers will frequently disregard a film from a marginalized group if there are already other examples of it, implying that there can only be one or two before they become monotonous. The normative stories, on the other hand, are retold a million times. I'll take a million different versions of Romeo and Juliet—this movie makes a few subtle allusions to Baz Luhrmann's version—and a million heartwarming films like "Young Hearts."