"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife."
With one line, Jane Austen set the stage for what would become a quiet and, in her own way, radical reimagining of what it means to marry and be in love. In this same way, Fire Island, written by Joel Kim Booster and directed by Andrew Ahn, seeks to redefine what it means to be queer and in search of not only love but the self.
Booster, known stateside for his stand-up comedy and writing credits on shows like Big Mouth, knows exactly which bits of Pride and Prejudice still stand up, and how to knead them into something contemporarily resonant. The film takes place not in the verdant English countryside but the unique hodgepodge of Fire Island, a small island off the coast of New York where, every summer, hosts of queer folks (and some not-queer folks) flock for what is effectively a vacation free from the judgemental eyes of heteronormativity.
But, as the host of characters who populate Fire Island reveal, those strictures are never far away — internalised homophobia, and our reactions to it, shape who we are, whether we want them to or not. It is this struggle against which Booster's Noah rages.
As a foil against Noah (the 'Elizabeth Bennet' of the story, and our narrator) is his unlikely love interest Will (the 'Darcy', played by Conrad Ricamora of How To Get Away With Murder), a buttoned-up lawyer who looks down his nose, unamused, at the hordes of flamboyant queer partygoers.
Will's best friend is Charlie (James Scully), the 'Bingley' of our tale, while Noah's BFF is Howie (Bowen Yang), far more reserved and romantically inclined than Noah, who eschews the monogamy promoted by our heteronormative society. And thus we have our fearsome foursome, around whom the rest of the plot whirls with such wild abandon you can't help but laugh, cry, and dance along with them.
Booster knows better than to try and hit – plot point for plot point – the moments from Pride and Prejudice we have all come to know so well (and have been GIF-ified to death, not that we don't love staring at a rain-soaked Matthew McFadyen confessing his love). Instead, he takes the things that still impact us to this day and lets his new imagined characters flourish with them.
While each character might hit a note of a stereotype, they are each a far more complex and beautiful chord. Howie in particular shines as he declares how deeply he wants to feel vulnerable, how to him that is a strength – to feel.
In a world that tells queer people their feelings don't matter and their value is lesser, for Howie to proclaim and own his emotional space is enough to move your writer to tears now, thinking about it many days later.
That isn't to say that Fire Island is a tearjerker sob story — far from it. Booster is a comedian, and he writes into the film many moments of guffaw-out-loud humour. Despite his strait-laced personality, Will becomes the vehicle for many a comedic beat (including one scream-worthy moment when he throws a perfectly good ice cream into a bush and says, flatly, 'it was melting').
Fire Island takes a nonjudgemental look at the hierarchy that exists within the queer world — from race to class to body type. Even the dynamic between cis gay men and lesbians is explored thanks to a supporting turn by Margaret Cho as the mother hen (who, yes, gets to have her own spotlight moment too).
Sure, there are villains (Zane Phillips' Dex is our 'Wickham') but because everyone is queer, being queer doesn't, therefore, inform the villainy. This is a fresh take when so many movies either bury their gays or queer code their villains.
It is a film miraculously devoid of those kinds of narrative short-cuts (or maybe not so miraculously: as with any near-perfect thing, a lot of work went in to making it seem effortless).
But what makes it feel deep and rich is the detail that goes into each character. They come alive, they feel like you and me, and that is what makes each of their moments of joy and despair pull hard at your heart.
Unlike Pride and Prejudice, the goal at the end isn't marriage — but it isn't a flat out condemnation of the practice, either. What Fire Island does is afford space to everyone to pursue the relationships that make them happy, fulfilled, and above all else, whole.
Fire Island is out on June 3 on Star on Disney+ in the UK and on Hulu in the US.