#crizarah

a lot of people on twitter are speaking up about how there are, apparently, bl viewers who refuse to watch or continue watching shine because they don't understand it???

i've always said shine is a series for every one given its relevancy to historical and current events. sure, there are metaphors everywhere—jargons, inside thai jokes, or so if you're someone who stuggles with the sort of dialogue that isn't straightforward, this is a good place to start. just as a lot of shine viewers have stated, you don't have to know everything about late 60's and early 70's thai history to watch shine.

there are a lot of viewers who aren't native english speakers so it's easy to find a community on social media to help you understand things and aspects you find difficulty understanding. if you're already here on twitter, you're already in the right place for that.

you may simply not like the series for personal opinions on production choices and such, but shine is a political series—politics. it's supposed to be analytical, tactical, gets your brain going, some do research, some give their inputs and theories—basically basic fandom activities just more "intense" (that isn't the right adjective, but i can't think of anything else that the moment). it may feel overwhelming, but that's what politics makes everyone feel, especially right now.

so if your complaint is "it's bl, it's not supposed to be complicated", i hate to break it to you, but society made queer culture and representation in media—and in general—complicated. that's why shine is so relevant!

boc and the actors have claimed it to be an ml (mens' love) rather than bl (boys' love) to create a clear distinction of themes, but i, personally, don't think theme matters that much; shine may feel different from other bls because rather than focusing the plot on characters' sexual orientations, on them being gay, achillean, or queer, the plot focuses on the characters' lives and they just happen to be queer. a lot of series are like this; gap the series, manner of death, spare me your mercy, and other series and films where their sexual orientation and/or gender identity still plays a role in the plot but the plot is not dependent on it.

last saturday, shine the series finally premiered with it's first episode. i went into this knowing all the details available regarding the production so let me just say, it was so good. too good.

i'm just happy to see mile and apo in another boc production. the introduction of different characters, the setting, the inescapable politics, the incorporation of the far side of the moon—everything about it just got me so excited. though this being only eight episodes makes me slightly disappointed because i believe such a production should be at least 10 to 12 episodes (same as my opinion regarding 4 minutes), but alas, i've never hated a boc project.

i'm not a rabid boc company fan by all means, but i just love what they have to deliver. they're most certainly a company that prioritizes quality which is really everything i could ask for.

⚠︎ spoilers ahead ⚠︎

“your body is his temple. you must never, ever pollute that temple.”

and so he did not.

instead, maurice discovered the temple—explored it with awe, filled it with feeling, fear, and fierce humanity. he refused to desecrate it by denying himself. and i think that’s what makes it closer to holiness than any rigid idea of purity ever could.

this film isn't just a romance; it’s a becoming story disguised as one, and it begins with a lesson on puberty and procreation through a quietly raised question: when do we speak, and when do we stay silent?

"i simply can't think of a reply to that."

"what about saying nothing?"

but silence isn’t always a solution.

"what you do is more important than what you say" suggests words are secondary—yet sometimes, words are the only way through.

"it's only by talking that we shall caper upon the summit" insists on language—but it's actions that often carry truth.

i think they’re both right. and both wrong. words and actions can overlap or contradict, but neither can truly reflect what lives deep inside. that part of you—the part that doesn’t speak or move—is where the truth sits.

you can speak your feelings and act against them, or you can act in support of what you say. but when both your words and actions go against what you truly feel, it’s not them you’re betraying—it’s yourself. the part of you that lives quietly inside, beneath language and gesture.

interestingly, if maurice had never spoken, he might never have been invited to trinity by risley. he wouldn’t have met clive. and it’s through clive that he learned what it means to live dishonestly—or rather, what it means to live in conflict with oneself. clive marries anne, builds something respectable, and in doing so, speaks and acts against his own feelings. he betrays what he once shared with maurice—but that doesn’t necessarily make him cruel, or even wrong.

betrayal is not always villainy. maybe clive believed it was the safest choice. maybe it was survival. maybe it was just easier. and maybe that’s enough—if it is enough for him. only clive can reckon with the cost of that decision.

⚠︎ spoilers ahead ⚠︎

i’ll start with my favorite lines, because they really encapsulate everything that made me feel some type of way.

the first one is when simon yells at martin: "i'm supposed to be one that decides when, and where, and how, and who knows and how i get to say it. that's supposed to be my thing! and you took that away from me." like, yes. martin can choke. and simon deserved so much better from his friends. i can understand where they were coming from, but they didn't even try to understand where simon was coming from. and their "apology"? what apology? so, yeah, they can choke. thankfully, simon has a great family to fall back on.

and speaking of family, the moment with dr. emily spier, played by jennifer garner, was a punch in the gut. i was 17 or 18 when i first saw this movie, still grappling with my sexual identity and, honestly, kind of lost when it came to my career path. this moment between simon and his mom really stood out. it was comforting and so tender. "being gay is your thing. there are parts of it you have to go through alone. i hate that. as soon as you came out, you said, 'mom, i'm still me.' i need you to hear this: you are still you, simon. you are still the same son who i love to tease and who your father depends on for just about everything. and you're the same brother who always complements his sister on her food, even when it sucks. you get to exhale now, simon. you get to be more you than you have been in… in a very long time. you deserve everything you want." there’s so much warmth in that, and it hit me hard. as a queer woman, watching this mom figure who isn’t just supportive but who gets it… it made me want to take up psychology in a way that felt personal.

let's talk about simon's relationship with his dad, jack. when jack apologizes and cries, it’s like a masterclass in healthy vulnerability. simon’s dad, who we see as this "jock" type from high school, tries so hard not to break down, but the love for his son is undeniable. it’s such a beautiful moment, especially because he wants simon to know that it's okay to be vulnerable, that it's okay to express emotions. this is how fatherhood should be portrayed more often: messy, real, but so full of love. like, my heart couldn’t handle it.

then there's simon and nora. i love the sibling dynamic between them. it's refreshing to see a portrayal where siblings actually care for each other, where there's no forced tension or drama. as someone who is super close to my brother, it felt so comforting to see that kind of bond represented on screen.

and can we talk about the multiple "coming out" moments? finally, a movie that gets it right. coming out isn't just a one-time event, and love, simon nails that. it's exhausting to constantly explain your identity to people, to have to tailor how you come out depending on the person you're talking to. simon's repeated coming-out moments felt so real, so relatable. it’s this constant balancing act of being yourself while trying to figure out who’s safe enough to share that part of you with.

overall, funny, touching, and honest in its portrayal of queer identity. it didn’t shy away from the struggles of being gay, but it also showed how love and support can make all the difference. it's cheesy in the best way, and i’ll be forever grateful for that.