Even I was young, I was always on the lookout for clues as to what it was like to be other people. The great mystery I grappled with was why I was me and not somebody else. Now, being me was, and remains, perfectly fine, but given the opportunity, who wouldn’t spend a little bit of time as somebody else — anybody else?
Because so much of the TG and TF sphere is concerned with adult things like romance and sex, we like to keep it divorced from any childhood wonderings we might have had, even though I’m sure that for many of you, like me, these questions first came up before you knew much at all about the difference between one body and another, let alone love life. After a certain point — maybe around 13, maybe later or earlier — the idea of switching a body takes on a distinctly dirty connotation that we can’t really let go of. But prior to that? It’s different.
2021’s Homebody captured this childlike innocence better than any film I’ve seen or for that matter pretty much any story I’ve ever read or experienced in any medium, while still acknowledging that yes, there is an adult world. The story centers on a child named Johnny (Tre Ryder) who is a boy as far as we can tell, but with his long hair and feminine bearing, is often called a girl and wonders “what’s so bad about that.” He hoards keepsakes and mementos of his babysitter Melanie (Colby Minifie), including a tube of lipstick that he covets with intrigue and curiosity. Johnny is also a bit of a shut-in, to where his mom has to explicitly ask Melanie to make sure he gets outside during the day.
A curious kid, Johnny watches a Youtube video on astral projection and manages to place himself into Melanie’s adult female body. At first it’s all fun and games as he experiments with his mother’s clothes and makeup, but the longer he spends as her, the more he comes up against the complications and confusions of being an adult and a woman.
Does Johnny want to be a girl? Does he want to be an adult? Does he simply want to be somebody, anybody else? The movie leaves it to the viewer to interpret the kid, who obviously doesn’t have the language or understanding of whatever is going on inside.
The film does a great job being lighthearted and quirky, while hinting at the potential darkness lingering on the edge of its premise, as when Johnny encounters Melanie’s not-quite-boyfriend or has to go to her other job as, of all things, a doula. Minifer does an impressive job embodying a wide-eyed and innocent kid bewildered by the world he has found himself in.
The movie doesn’t attempt to titillate or shock, unless you happen to be very receptive to the tropes as presented (or get a kick out of a brief glimpse of Johnny’s mother’s sideboob.) It’s wholesome, yet still more unvarnished in its depiction of reality than, say, 13 Going On 30. Some folks will be averse to the premise of putting such a young (male) child into an adult (female) body because they can’t separate adulthood and womanhood from sexuality, but there’s really nothing over the line here.
In my own writing, I often invoke kids and adolescents but I know it’s a fine line to walk because certain readers simply want to keep the sex lives of adults far removed from the existence of children. In reality, both of these things exist, in their appropriate time and place, and adults do more than just shag one another.
I loved it. I think this is one of the best TG films I’ve encountered, and I’ve seen plenty and am always looking for more. It helps that it has a favored trope of mine — the one-way body swap/possession, where Melanie’s mind continues to reside in her body’s “subconscious” and is able, briefly, to converse with Johnny while he’s in control. When I watch these movies I’m always keen to examine what kind of choices are made in depicting changes and experiences, and here’s one that works well and has fun.
The movie is available on Tubi in Canada and probably elsewhere, and I think it’s well worth a look if you want something light, heartfelt and grounded.
