A Queer Therapist Reacts to Netflix’s ‘Nimona’
A Queer Therapist Reacts to Netflix’s ‘Nimona’
*Spoiler warning- spoilers throughout*
I am a sucker for anything animated. Add in some queer romance and a trans allegory and you have a contender for my new favorite movie of all time. ‘Nimona’, the Netflix adaptation of ND Stevenson’s graphic novel, presents a Pixar-esque, fantasy, adventure that is inescapably, unapologetically, hauntingly queer.
From the first scene of the movie which features a cute gay romance (the only romance in the movie in fact), to the core conflict around Nimona’s identity as a “monster” who can change their shape into lots of different things and ardently rejects classification, to a heavy-handed but satisfying depiction of a villainous, pseudo-religious organization that would rather kill its own people than face their fear of anyone who exists outside of their sparkly, white, affluent walls, the movie puts its little queer foot on the gas and doesn’t let up. In a political climate that is actively attacking the lives and safety of queer and trans people, living in the world of ‘Nimona’ brought me a moment of empowerment and delicious chaos. There was something deeply affirming about watching an animated movie that was originally written by a queer author, had openly queer characters, told a queer story, used queer symbols, expressed queer rage, and showed a vision of queer power. It felt a bit like fighting back.
What makes a monster?
As a queer therapist, I tend to be on the lookout for how symbols are used to tell stories. I think we decorate our lives with symbols and we use them as ways of holding and communicating meaning within the stories we tell about ourselves and our community. ‘Nimona’ is full of symbols, which resonate within its story as well as beyond.
‘Nimona’ is a story about perception. The two main protagonists show us two paths towards becoming perceived as a villain. Nimona, our spunky, shape-shifting lead, possesses an ability that others don’t. Throughout the story, they change their physical form into countless animals, take on the physical likeness of other human characters, and express a clear preference for changing their form as often as possible. They even are shown shifting form in their sleep. We also meet Ballistar, the other lead character, right as he is becoming a knight of the prestigious Institute – which is tasked with protecting the cityfolk from the terrifying monsters that live outside of the wall that surrounds the city. Since Ballistar was not a part of the story’s version of the noble class, rich families who dress all in white and who have the privilege of becoming knights, he dresses in black and is ridiculed for being from the story’s commoner class. We see him step up to be knighted, terrified that he will be rejected by the city for not being a “true knight”, only for his sword to mysteriously transform into a laser that kills the queen, making him instantly wanted for her murder. His boyfriend, the noblest of noble knights in gold armor, then cuts Ballistar’s arm off to disable the laser sword. Both of our protagonists end up perceived as villains and as Nimona points out, once people think you are a villain there is nothing you can do to correct them.
The emotional thrust of the movie centers this tension. Is Nimona a villain because she can shapeshift and refuses to fit a mold? Is Ballistar a villain because he was framed for murder and born outside of the noble class? In the world of the movie, the answer is yes. In the movie’s mythology, you have two options: be the shiny, white, clean epitome of order and light that doesn’t question anything and mindlessly adheres to whatever rule the Institute gives them, or you are a villainous monster. Monsters are scary things; they burn things down, they threaten order, they don't fit.
Queer Pain
The movie gives us a mythology with only two options. Good side or bad side. Except this mythology is shown to be untrue. Ballistar loves the Institute and the queen. He is hardworking, brave, and kind. He is repeatedly lauded for being the best knight the Institute has ever trained. He simply would never have killed the queen. In fact, throughout the course of the movie it is revealed that he didn’t kill the queen. He was set up, betrayed actually, by the Institute he devotedly loved. But he is believable as a villain because he is different and fits the false perception that has been made into the story’s core mythology.
As the viewer learns more about Nimona, you learn how lonely they were. A flashback shows Nimona’s character yearning for belonging, ceaselessly shapeshifting into form after form hoping to fit in with some creature, some pack, somewhere only to be rejected again and again. It isn’t until they find a young girl who is willing to play with Nimona in their human form that they find an authentic connection. Nimona mimics the young girl at first, but eventually reveals their true, shape-shifting nature. Although Nimona is initially worried she will be rejected again, the young girl is amused by the new forms Nimona takes and their bond grows. Their connection is, however, tragically cut short. Nimona, in the form of an animal, is seen playing with their friend by the other villagers who perceive Nimona as a threat and begin fighting Nimona off with pitchforks and torches. One of the villagers accidentally drops a torch which lands on straw and sets their village on fire. Nimona, wounded, reaches out to their only friend in the world for help. They then see her reach down for a sword, point it at Nimona, now in human form, and tell her to leave. From this instance, the monster myth is born.
‘Nimona’ is a story about perception. Ballistar is perceived as a villain because he matches the false villain myth. Nimona is a monster because she matches the false monster myth. Although it is short-lived, Ballistar and Nimona themselves lean into these myths and find themselves turning on each other throughout their journey.
The emotional climax of the movie comes when Nimona accepts her perceived identity as a monster. Her rebellious and indefatigable spirit is replaced by a lumbering, mournful, being of grief. Throughout the movie, we have been told that monsters deserve to have their hearts pierced by a sword. It's a common refrain: children are taught that knights pierce monster’s hearts, advertisements for fun family games show monsters with swords sticking out of them, cereal brands on giant billboards have colorful flavor balls that fall out of the wounds in silly dragon’s bodies. Nimona, in her giant, wailing, grief-stricken form drags herself into town surrounded by terrified cityfolk with the intention of skewering themselves, in their own heart, on the sword of the city’s deity- who is revealed to be the young girl Nimona had initial befriended.
Queer Power
For Nimona, the monster myth was inescapable. Since everyone around her saw her as a monster, it seemed only fitting that she would die a monster’s death. It was this moment that felt the most innately queer to me. Queer people, the “monsters” of many of our current cultural conversations, are perceived as villains. We are given false myths about us being dangerous, threatening, unnatural, and unfit to live alongside the “good” folk that we too often believe. We are blamed for things that were never our fault. We are betrayed by people and institutions who said they loved us. We grieve the connections we had while tirelessly, frantically looking for places we can be ourselves – in whatever form we choose to take – and belong. It can be hard to resist the urge to finish out this story and stop ourselves from piercing our own heart on the sword of some religious, cultural, or social expectation.
But the genius of ‘Nimona’ is in its depiction of queer power. Queer power in ‘Nimona’ is two fold: it is destructive and it is constructive. Nimona and Ballistar, at different times in the narrative, utilize their abilities to actively challenge the prevailing myths that dictate their social perception. They find out who betrayed Ballistar and prove he is innocent. They show themselves to be clever, to help those in danger, to ultimately save the city at great personal cost. In doing so, they reveal the old mythology to be false and create a new, better, more accurate story. Nimona is no longer a monster, they’re a hero. The Institute and their walls of fear are no longer protective, they are restrictive, harmful, and unnecessary. Monsters no longer deserve to have their hearts pierced, they deserve to be listened to and understood because their unique power could save us all. ‘Nimona’ teaches us that perception can be challenged and it can be changed. We can tell the truth about us, dispel false stories borne out of fear, and craft more lovely stories. It also reminds us that we can’t do this kind of work alone. We, too, might need a sidekick.
The stories we tell are powerful. If you find yourself feeling stuck in a story that doesn’t fit you and you’d like to learn how to better unleash your own queer power, try giving Nimona a watch. If you want to talk about it with someone, feel free to reach out to one of our therapists. We love stories and would love to help you create some more accurate and exciting ones.