Movies

High School Review – It’s Tegan and Sara: Grungy Adolescence | Television

October 14, 2022

High School, an Amazon Freevee adaptation of the memoir of twin sisters Tegan and Sara Quin, focuses on the couple’s teenage years in the ’90s before they became indie-pop duo Tegan and Sara. The first episode is about as boring as those of us who also went through a 90s teen can remember. The girls are played by twins Railey and Seazynn Gilliland, who are the creators of TikTok in their first acting roles (but don’t let that put you off: they’re not bad and get better as the series goes on). They are mooning glumly as they navigate their first day at their new high school in suburban Calgary. There’s a festering resentment between them based on Sara “stealing” Phoebe, a once-shared best friend. There’s the boredom of classes, a boring bully of a boy called Tyler, and lonely canteen lunches, all filmed in constant greyness. The only – metaphorical – points of brightness are an approach of a potential friend for Tegan near the end, and a silent rapprochement between the sisters in the final scenes, as Sara helps remove the gum that Tyler has stuck in Tegan’s hair. Tegan.

But stick with it. Things are looking up, for the sisters and for the viewers. Friendships take root and blossom, though Sara’s do so with the help of drugs. It becomes clear that she and Phoebe are girlfriends, but not with just anyone. Tegan’s growing closeness to her new friend Maya (Amanda Fix, which brings up all the scenes she shares with Railey) involves another navigation of a young gay relationship. The first episode alternates between the two sisters with frequently overlapping timelines, so we see the same events on both sides. But after that, the focus widens to include other characters, including Phoebe (Olivia Rouyre, another relative newcomer – she got her start on YouTube – who acquits herself well in a story that includes the acceptance of his sexuality within a homophobic family) and the mother of the twins Simone (Cobie Smulders). Although the series clearly aims and has the greatest sympathy for a younger, queer demographic, Simone’s experiences – as a social worker with huge responsibilities, as a mother of troublesome teenagers, as a wife and as a woman – have the possibility of unfolding.

High School also avoids rushing headlong into the hows, whys, and hows of Sara and Tegan’s musical evolution and success. Like everything else in this unhurried evocation of a particular era and a particular moment in life, it’s a slow burn. By the end of the first three episodes, we haven’t seen them do much more than any teenager could: write lyrics in a boring lesson, sing a song to a girlfriend, ask permission to attend a concert and go to piano lessons. (where they don’t even fare very well).

You don’t have to be a fan of – or even have heard of – Tegan and Sara to enjoy high school (although I imagine that would get you through the exceptionally pessimistic start). It’s a heartfelt and ultimately rather touching portrait of brotherhood – the real and larger types – and the power of friendship, the delicate business of negotiating the complexities of a queer adolescence, finding each other and the joys to discover a voice and a talent that you can make your own. But I’ll also take a spin-off based on Simone anytime. She too has a lot to teach us, I suppose.