deflatermouse
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Emotional & effective Coming Out allegory
Other reviews made me question watching this but I am glad I did. The Eclipse is a well-crafted story that is at its heart about the struggles of coming out in a society that might not accept you, and working to find acceptance and love. Akk's struggle to come to terms with his feelings (not just for Ayan) and break free of what his school expected of him was very powerful, and Ayan's struggle with anxiety and devastation over his uncle's suicide after being faced with shame and bigotry, are extremely intelligible stories to any queer viewer and they were incredibly well-told. The worried looks at glances from other students, worrying about being judged, the fear at being spotted at school, and the odious and bigoted language from the school president (who we loved to hate) all drove home the point.
On some level, the story of the protestors and the central conceit of the school uniforms seems simplistic - other reviewers have wondered why it was such a big deal and why the story wasn't more explicitly about queer equality. This is where Thai contexts have to be considered and the directors and writers should be credited for treading very carefully around hot-button issues in Thai society like prejudice and bigotry, especially given that Thailand today is not politically free and the space for public discussion is not as open as in other countries. It's clear that they were making a larger point about Thailand, democracy, freedom, and equality using the school uniform story as an allegory. This is born out in references in the history class to the policies of Marshal Phibun, a military dictator whose edicts on clothing (among other things) radically changed Thai culture - references to Emergency Decrees from the 1970s (another period of military rule and government paternalism) and ministry rules also hint at the fact there is a message here beyond just the school that cannot really be discussed directly.
At times this symbolic approach makes the story seem a little maddening - only at the very end does the story actively address LGBT equality from a societal standpoint (and even then not directly or forcefully), despite prominently featuring a cafe with the pride flag and gay characters protesting for their rights, so even the viewer attuned to the LGBT issues sometimes leaves asking "why are these three gay kids so up in arms about school uniforms?" It's probably also lost in translation somewhat that the three protesting students use somewhat stereotypical feminine language that marks them clearly as queer. But, this careful approach also avoids hammering home the message "IT'S GAY EQUALITY, STUPID," which would quickly become tiring and ruin the slow-burn approach.
Further, stylistic choices sometimes don't do the story any favors- Akk's understandable problems accepting himself and wanting to be loved by the administration see him yo-yo between trying to accept Ayan and rejecting him so much and so frequently it occasionally exhausts (sometimes multiple times in the space of one scene). The last-minute Chadok and Thua reveals happen so suddenly and so late there is no time to process them or re-evaluate the story at all. Further, Chadok spends so much of the series as the antagonist, we are robbed of the chance to figure out exactly what his deal with the school was and why he felt so attached to it even after it ruined his life. There was so much potential in the story for redemption for his character, especially with the "queer elder" Ajahn Dika angle.
What made this story rise above these faults, though, was the consistent characterization by First and Khao, who were thoroughly convincing as young men falling in love and struggling against the opposition, as well as the strong supporting cast, whose own stories never felt like they were either under-used or distracted from the main plot. You wanted them to get through the situation, not just to finally get to a long-expected kiss, but also just so they could find happiness and closure in a place that was hurting them.
A closing message that some might miss is the theme of forgiveness, especially from the three Jums to Akk and Thua - this contrasts nicely with the earlier emphasis on justice and vengeance. Closing on forgiveness, and the heartwarming family acceptance scenes, makes this a strong and touching series I would definitely recommend.
On some level, the story of the protestors and the central conceit of the school uniforms seems simplistic - other reviewers have wondered why it was such a big deal and why the story wasn't more explicitly about queer equality. This is where Thai contexts have to be considered and the directors and writers should be credited for treading very carefully around hot-button issues in Thai society like prejudice and bigotry, especially given that Thailand today is not politically free and the space for public discussion is not as open as in other countries. It's clear that they were making a larger point about Thailand, democracy, freedom, and equality using the school uniform story as an allegory. This is born out in references in the history class to the policies of Marshal Phibun, a military dictator whose edicts on clothing (among other things) radically changed Thai culture - references to Emergency Decrees from the 1970s (another period of military rule and government paternalism) and ministry rules also hint at the fact there is a message here beyond just the school that cannot really be discussed directly.
At times this symbolic approach makes the story seem a little maddening - only at the very end does the story actively address LGBT equality from a societal standpoint (and even then not directly or forcefully), despite prominently featuring a cafe with the pride flag and gay characters protesting for their rights, so even the viewer attuned to the LGBT issues sometimes leaves asking "why are these three gay kids so up in arms about school uniforms?" It's probably also lost in translation somewhat that the three protesting students use somewhat stereotypical feminine language that marks them clearly as queer. But, this careful approach also avoids hammering home the message "IT'S GAY EQUALITY, STUPID," which would quickly become tiring and ruin the slow-burn approach.
Further, stylistic choices sometimes don't do the story any favors- Akk's understandable problems accepting himself and wanting to be loved by the administration see him yo-yo between trying to accept Ayan and rejecting him so much and so frequently it occasionally exhausts (sometimes multiple times in the space of one scene). The last-minute Chadok and Thua reveals happen so suddenly and so late there is no time to process them or re-evaluate the story at all. Further, Chadok spends so much of the series as the antagonist, we are robbed of the chance to figure out exactly what his deal with the school was and why he felt so attached to it even after it ruined his life. There was so much potential in the story for redemption for his character, especially with the "queer elder" Ajahn Dika angle.
What made this story rise above these faults, though, was the consistent characterization by First and Khao, who were thoroughly convincing as young men falling in love and struggling against the opposition, as well as the strong supporting cast, whose own stories never felt like they were either under-used or distracted from the main plot. You wanted them to get through the situation, not just to finally get to a long-expected kiss, but also just so they could find happiness and closure in a place that was hurting them.
A closing message that some might miss is the theme of forgiveness, especially from the three Jums to Akk and Thua - this contrasts nicely with the earlier emphasis on justice and vengeance. Closing on forgiveness, and the heartwarming family acceptance scenes, makes this a strong and touching series I would definitely recommend.
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