‘Forever’ is a poignant look at the power — and dangers — of first love
The Netflix adaptation of a 1975 Judy Blume novel reminds us that some things never change.
Lovie Simone as Keisha Clark and Michael Cooper Jr. as Justin Edwards.
Lovie Simone as Keisha Clark and Michael Cooper Jr. as Justin Edwards in “Forever.”Netflix
The romance that forms the core of Netflix’s new series “Forever” starts off just like Judy Blume’s 1975 novel, which inspired the show: at a New Year’s Eve party around fondue pots.
If Blume’s “Forever.” was revolutionary because it portrayed a young white woman’s sexual desire and unselfconscious pleasure, then Akil’s “Forever” is revolutionary for its portrayal of a young Black man’s vulnerability and considered choices regarding sex and love.
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Related to us by high school senior Katherine’s own voice, Blume’s “Forever…” is a classic and honest discussion of teen sex and first love.
Since the original publication during the 1970s, parents have had an uproar about the book and have tried to get it pulled from libraries.
I finally read “Forever…” for the first time way too late in my life — October of last year, after Blume, one of my white whale interviews, finally agreed to participate in the Velshi Banned Book Club. I was sure I would love the book — and I did. But I didn’t think it would feel so revolutionary.
Rather than in a New Jersey suburb, the series takes place during the Black Lives Matter movement in Los Angeles.
Consequently, cellphones are a beautifully realized extension of our teen characters and their lives.
The series, shifting between Keisha’s and Michael’s perspectives, has inverted Blume’s characters: It is Justin who is inexperienced sexually, deciding if he is or isn’t.
If Blume’s “Forever.” was revolutionary in that it portrayed a white, young woman’s sexual desire and unapologetic pleasure, then Akil’s “Forever” is revolutionary in its portrayal of a Black, young man’s vulnerability and thoughtful choices around sex and love.
Keisha’s attitude toward sex is complicated. On their first date, she is uninhibited and willing to experiment with Justin. But in the following scene, we find out that Keisha’s ex-boyfriend, a golden boy by the name of Christian with seeming NBA potential, recorded a pornographic video of the two of them and posted it on the Internet. Later, on FaceTime, Keisha informs her best friend, the show’s sole regular white character, that she has no interest in punishing Christian and “ruin his life.” There is silence for a moment, and then her friend asks, “But Christian gets to ruin yours?
This horrifically ubiquitous act of sexual assault feels like a contemporary and required raising of the stakes.
Netflix’s “Forever,” just as sweet, poignant and truthful as the book, made some powerful updates to Blume’s material.
Most importantly, our featured couple, Keisha and Justin, are Black. Showrunner Mara Brock Akil explained to The New York Times why they did that, saying, “I would posit that Black boys are the most vulnerable at this time.
The potential ramifications of sexing up are also explained in Blume’s “Forever…” and that includes: There are warning stories, ranging from deferred dreams to slut-shaming to unplanned pregnancy. Most importantly, these ramifications don’t happen to Katherine. She is a good girl who gets sex and doesn’t lose her dignity, her self and her shining future.
Forever
50 years ago, Blume’s high school persona is celebrating the demise of something which has certainly not disappeared.
Even no generation is homogeneous, but younger people nowadays are significantly more regressive and conservative than their earlier counterparts. Gen Zers are notoriously Republican-sympathetic, they’re flocking to the Catholic Church in significant numbers, and increasing numbers of them are eschewing sex as an option.
A poll taken recently for London’s paper of record The Times reported 62% of Gen Z surveyed say they do not have one-night stands.
The frustrating and melancholic irony is that this discussion is at the heart of the sex-positive, second-wave feminism that made Blume’s “Forever…” possible in the first place.
The straw man fallacy that safety should be the responsibility of the most vulnerable is sustained by a dysfunctional patriarchal system.
Freedom and safety should not be an either-or proposition when it comes to having sex. What I like best about this tale, whether it is printed in a book or shown on your TV screen, is not its brutally candid conversation about young people and sex.
It is the way it accepts the heavy seriousness of that and yet maintains the innocent exhilaration of first love. There is danger and excitement and risk and reward in falling in love and in making love.
For the fortunate, that first love is a lovely aspect of life, perhaps the loveliest aspect of life. Being young and in love is one of the strongest forces on the planet.
Lovie Simone as Keisha Clark and Michael Cooper Jr. as Justin Edwards.
Lovie Simone as Keisha Clark and Michael Cooper Jr. as Justin Edwards in “Forever.”Netflix There is one passage a few chapters into “Forever….” where Katherine looks back on the way that the decision of a young woman to have sex defines her.
“In the old days girls were two types — those who did and those who didn’t. My mother explained it to me. Nice girls didn’t, of course.”.
They were the ones boys wanted to wed. I’m thankful those days are past but I still get annoyed at older people for thinking everyone from my generation sleeps around.”
The idea that the good girls who are virgins are the ones who marry the good husbands and have the good children and the good life is a very established sentiment.
That is not what makes this passage so appalling.
It is that 50 years ago, Blume’s high school persona is celebrating the demise of something which has certainly not disappeared.
This tale is a timely reminder of that.