Closet Monster (2016)

Closet Monster is special because it turns the mess of growing up—desire, shame, imagination, and survival—into something that feels like a modern fairy tale without sanding down the pain. Stephen Dunn directs with a confident, gently surreal touch, letting fantastical imagery and an off-kilter sense of humor sit right beside raw emotion, the way real memories do when you’re trying to outrun them. Connor Jessup gives a remarkably empathetic performance, making Oscar’s guardedness and longing feel lived-in rather than “performed,” and the film’s mystery elements keep you leaning forward even when it’s quietly breaking your heart. It isn’t for everyone—there are dark, upsetting moments and the tone can feel dreamlike in a way that resists neat answers—but if you’re open to a coming-of-age drama that’s tender, strange, and deeply human, this one lingers.

Closet Monster is clearly aiming for a raw, coming-of-age portrait of queer identity and trauma, using fantasy touches and body-horror imagery to show what Oscar can’t say out loud. The problem is it often feels overstuffed: heavy themes, surreal symbolism, and melodrama pile up until the pacing turns uneven and some scenes land more “trying very hard” than truly earned. The talking hamster is the big make-or-break element—if you don’t buy into that heightened, whimsical device, it can pull you right out of the story instead of deepening it. Still, Connor Jessup gives a committed, vulnerable performance and when the film settles into character moments, it can hit with real emotional force—just don’t expect a smooth, tightly focused ride.