A Celebration of Ace Summer 2023

As usual, there was excitement to pop on Heartstopper and enjoy the new season of Netflix’s nicest queer kid drama. As I wrote about last year, there is something to the wholesomeness and inclusion that makes me feel optimistic about the world. In one scene, the queer characters are seen shutting the door on a homophobe trying to intrude on their party. When they reject him, the celebration was enough to make me smile, thinking how cathartic it was after a summer of America being rife with political exclusion. In the days prior to reading this, I learned that The Los Angeles Clippers (and presumably all of The NBA) do not have a Pride Night on the 2023-2024 season “theme night” line-up. Having Heartstopper may seem minor when compared to rainbow capitalism retracting on itself but it comes to mean a lot just in terms of representation.

It would be one thing to stop here. Sure, the story of coming out as bisexual is one of those crucial stories that more media should explore. However, I have been a fan of the series for many other reasons. Among them is creator Alice Oseman, who also penned the comics that I have also begun collecting. As simple as it sounds, her helming a series means a lot because she is an aromantic asexual and, in that small way, feels reflective of the potential for aro and ace creators to have their work recognized on a larger stage.

Though it hasn’t been since Everything’s Gonna Be Okay that I experienced a moment that felt even more surreal. It’s one thing to recognize yourself in queer characters. However, there are certain distinctions to being asexual that you don’t get in more promiscuous types. There’s been a few, but coming from Oseman felt special. Late in the season, a supporting character named Isaac was seen reading a book at a party while everyone around him was being flirty. Even if the series hasn’t given him much time, the choice to allow him to have a chunk of the final run felt like a chance to do something brilliant. Like in Oseman’s “Loveless,” Isaac was asexual and came to that revelation gradually. In a moment that feels very insider baseball, having his revelation end with him picking up a copy of Angela Chase’s “Ace” made me realize how this community has built its own resources. Having Oseman share it with the world, on a platform as expansive as Netflix, made me feel validated.

To Netflix’s credit, Heartstopper wasn’t the first show to feature asexual characters. There is also BoJack Horseman as well as Sex Education and my favorite variation in Heartbreak High. There’s probably more, but those have set the template for what’s to come.

Whatever the case may be, Heartstopper was the extent of how much asexual representation I expected to be seen in 2023. I had heard rumors of Isaac getting a bigger part in the series, but I was skeptical that it would be more implied than as explicit as it was. To Oseman’s credit, he is one of the only clear, undeniable cases of asexuality that I’ve seen since June.

However, what if I were to tell you some great news? Even if they weren’t necessarily written in the obvious, flag-flying, ring-wearing, garlic bread-eating, yay dragons way, this is easily the most asexual summer we’ve had in eons. That isn’t to say there’s been a lack of other LGBTQIA+ representation. It’s there in the gender fluidity of Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse as well as Nimona. However, having THREE major movies reference behavior that is not dissimilar from the ace experience is something to celebrate. Even if it’s coded, No Hard Feelings (2023), Joy Ride (2023), and Barbie (2023) all have ushered in a very special moment in history.

Nobody’s denying that 2023 started out rough for asexuals. In February, an opinion piece on how aro/aces were spending Valentine’s Day alone caught wind from conservative pundits. Given how uncontroversial the idea of spending that holiday alone is, it’s strange to have the bullies argue that we’re fart sniffers doing it for attention. To quote Don Draper: “I don’t think about you at all.” Leave us alone. 

But then it happened. Sometime around June, we got our first glimpse into Ace Summer 2023. As I discussed in a previous essay, I had taken No Hard Feelings to be potentially aphobic and regressive. The trailers sold a sex comedy that validated amatanormativity over this young asexual. Given that I grew up in the age of American Pie (1999) and raunchy comedies, my mind was very cautious of what was to come. After an initial opinion to boycott, I read a review from Refinery29 that turned everything around.

Is it a sex comedy? Yes. While some have argued that it wasn’t dirty enough or took enough risks, I found myself in awe of this studio comedy accidentally (?) creating the most perfect exploration of demisexuality that I had seen. Sure, I called Good Luck to You Leo Grande (2022) essential demi cinema, but No Hard Feelings felt more in tune with the larger world around them. Given how much of society is driven by sex, that losing your virginity is a badge of honor, there is something to having it turned on its head that was downright beautiful. While the conventions within the narrative bothered me, the characters themselves endeared it enough to be a worthwhile adventure.

I’d be personally surprised if anyone could confirm that one of the writers was on the ace spectrum. There might be tendencies, but I am still convinced that this is more the byproduct of someone self-aware of sex comedy tropes and wanting to challenge them. Having a central character disinterested in sex can actually work as brilliant comedy. Early moments like when a financially desperate Maddie tries to flirt her way into Percy’s good graces are great examples of this. He turns innuendos into literal facts, reflecting how absurd certain aspects of amatanormativity are. Maddie herself is actually only in it for the money while his parents are doing it more for a social standing. It doesn’t reject Percy’s interest in sex, which I appreciate, just that he needs certain intimacy to be comfortable. And so the perfect demisexual teen was born.

Sure, there’s still an abundance of jokes about how Gen-Z kids aren’t as horny as even Millennials were. Lawrence at one point declares “Why does nobody fuck anymore?” Instead of being a cruel stance, it’s more of a reflection on changing values and that there exists a world outside of hypersexuality. In fact, she learns to accept the romantic part of their relationship. It’s where the best moments of the film lie. To have him express why he is the way he is leads to some amazing music cues, such as a motif from Hall & Oates’ “Maneater.” While those expecting it to break routine from romantic comedies may be a bit disappointed, those wanting a mainstream film that respects asexuality without pandering to their idea of an alien supporting role will be greatly surprised. I look forward to seeing where this lands in the greater ace conversation in a few years because after years of bad rep, this was pretty great.

Comparatively, Joy Ride is abundantly crass and unexpected in ways that I didn’t think raunchy comedies were still allowed to be. A character designs sculptures out of dildos in an effort to make “sex positive art.” There’s over the top sex scenes and it’s very clear that most of the characters are some level of horny at any time. This doesn’t sound like the best place for an asexual character, but trust me when I say that Deadeye is another canonically welcomed entry. Much like how the film subverts Asian-American tropes throughout cinema history, there’s also a large discussion about sexuality within it. You can’t do the R-Rated comedy without a few dirty jokes, and that includes a K-Pop inspired reimagining of “W.A.P.” that ends with a wardrobe malfunction. Despite all this, the ending is also very sweet and emotional.

Along with subverting sexuality on the all-too-welcoming side of the coin, there’s also Deadeye and “the asexual best friend” trope. They’re more designed as someone who contrasts against the absurd leads to reflect how bizarre their behavior is. However, I think that Joy Ride is smart enough to give Deadeye enough depth to be a serviceable character. Compares to the other examples in this essay, they’re a minor figure. Even then, they’re still one of the more innovative examples here.

Deadeye is first and foremost non-binary, named after their online handle on K-Pop forums. Their whole friend group is people they met online. There’s no surety that they’ll actually meet in person. Still, they have special interests that fill their time, giving them a sense of purpose. Whereas other characters obsess over sex, they’re getting into mischief. When a hunky man takes off his shirt, Deadeye is the only one yawning. During a raucous sex scene montage, Deadeye’s pleasure isn’t derived from penetration but from doing a dance battle with K-Pop people. Sure, there’s comedy from how disinterested they are in sex, but it isn’t their defining trait. They may be relegated to supporting friend, but they still manage to produce enough laughs that suggest they’re part of the group. They may not have sex, but it doesn’t mean they’re above an occasional innuendo. In fact, they’re the first to sing the more profane lines of “W.A.P.” recognizing its over the top nature as performative.

Again, it would be a relief if this was all that asexuals got in Summer 2023. However, there was one more surprise in store. Not only was there a major surprise in Barbie being shamelessly self-critical of amatanormativity to the point that most of the characters feel somewhat ace, but it currently ranks as the most successful film of the summer, setting records for its director Greta Gerwig. I would love to write an essay on why I think her entire filmography as a writer and director falls somewhere on the ace spectrum, but that’s beside the point at the moment. Having a film like Barbie open so many vital conversations about feminism and the patriarchy makes me excited for what the future of film could be. The only thing to do is wait.

To back up a smidge, the ultimate question is… HOW is Barbie the quintessential ace representation of Summer 2023? Well, I’ll start with this bit:

On the one hand, I am one of those skeptics who doesn’t go looking at products geared towards children as being asexual. As much as I’d love to claim Elsa from Frozen (2013) for archetypes that make sense, I always feel that reading too much into a cartoon’s sexual attraction in ways that are often implicit in these cases is a fool’s errand. To me, Barbie as a product is tough to read as ace simply because she’s anything you want her to be. However, if we’re talking about Gerwig’s take, the one that’s PG-13 and ends with a gynecologist joke, then it’s here that I can begin to make my argument. After all, it’s the type of film that encourages conversations about representation and acceptance.

It first showed up in the press for the film months ago. Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling both shot down theories that their characters had sex. There was no attraction in that way. Some may be confused as one of Barbie’s biggest traits is dressing up, but that can be misleading. As activists like Yasmin Benoit will have you know, asexuals can dress sexy. Sometimes women just dress up to feel pretty. It isn’t always because of a deeper erotic fantasy. So yes, having Ken walk around shirtless and looking like a beefcake isn’t a sign that he’s some heterosexual superstud. He just expresses himself that way.

While I didn’t write an essay on Barbie for my Ace Freely series, I am happy to see the community adopting the film as its own. Whereas I can nitpick every little point, I want to address what makes it the quintessential text, in some ways expanding on No Hard Feelings to an extent that it has rippled through social media posts. At the end of the day, the lessons it’s teaching are about the absurdity of amatanormativity. Expecting everyone to follow a monogamous path is ridiculous. Having the belief that men are superior to women is farcical. The film knows how to satirize this without soapboxing too much. The end message is less that Ken and Barbie need to be together so much as it’s okay to just be friends without benefits. If anything, expecting others to fulfill some greater commitment to you when they don’t want to is wrong and should be stopped. 

This is, obviously, a simplified version of Barbie, but then again it’s the type of galaxy brain summer entertainment that I didn’t expect us to get. Most times when we get more complicated texts, they’re rejected and reduced to fodder for the cinephiles who call the film a cult classic five years later. Having Barbie be as successful as it is means a lot for many reasons. One of them just happens to be that it’s a celebration of ideas that the asexual community has been preaching for years now. You don’t need a partner to be happy. You can enjoy friendship just as much and sex shouldn’t be as de facto as it is. There’s ways to build self-confidence by simply being yourself and respected for your achievements.

Of course, Heartstopper is the only one to outwardly say the word “asexual.” Those wanting to find these characters will have to brush off their coding skills and know where to look. In most cases, I had someone who tipped me off. It is doubtful that I would’ve seen No Hard Feelings or Joy Ride as quickly (or at all) without the online discourse. Still, I am grateful to have spent this summer in packed rooms laughing at stories that made us recontextualize the value of sex in society. To have that representation turning some form of a profit feels validating. It may feel more invisible and more interpretive than gay characters these days, but it’s out there. I promise. Given how much conservatives flip out when you tell them that something is 1% abnormal, I’m not sure that letting them know where the clues are is the best call. For example, just see how they treated Hari Neff in Barbie simply for being one of the girls (probably my favorite trans representation of the year simply because of how it wasn’t only about the struggles).

I recognize that I am running the risk of having another asexual character slipping through the cracks in the remaining weeks of summer. As much as that would do a disservice to this piece, it would also be a wonderful surprise. A year ago, I couldn’t imagine having this much media in some way commenting on our experiences in meaningful ways. This isn’t just stereotypes doing the bare minimum. The examples given are real characters. It’s why I include them here in what I’m just going to call Ace Summer 2023. 

The question ultimately becomes if we can outdo ourselves for Ace Summer 2024. I have no idea. Given that there’s writer’s strikes going on and endless delays, who knows what the near future will look like. However, if there is a rumbling that a film this Fall will touch on asexuality in a positive and significant way, then I’ll do my best to be there. Much like Isaac picking up that Angela Chen book, having visible representation matters. Not everyone knows where to begin looking or that it’s necessarily right. My hope is that films like No Hard Feelings, Joy Ride, and Barbie as well as Heartstopper can serve as guiding posts that suggest not only is it real, but you are valid no matter what.