Julie and The Phantoms Brought Me Back from the Dead
This last month has seen a deluge of Netflix releases targeted and tailored just for me. Avatar the last Airbender has emerged on Netflix, waking up each and every 90s kid from the ice of quarantine. Cobra Kai brings us back to the world of the classic karate kid. Sister, Sister and Girlfriends are my once again go-to Saturday morning best friends. Really, what Netflix intern is listening to my phone calls and tracking the chip in my brain?
All these additions stand the test of time, though. They don’t need me doing PR for waves of nostalgic audiences, and new viewers alike, to check them out. One new Netflix release, however, may seem easy to simply swipe past, and I’m here to warn you against making such a grrraaaaavvve mistake.
Julie and the Phantoms saw its American Netflix debut on September 10 where it instantly took up new residence in my heart. An adaptation of a 2011 Brazilian show by the same name, Julie and the Phantoms tells the tale of its titular character (portrayed by the absolutely incomparable, and soon to be insanely famous and sought after Madison Reyes) who goes on a wild music adventure with a boyband of total heartthrobs. Except did I mention said boyband is dead?
That’s right. Three out of the four members of the band Julie and the Phantoms are, well, phantoms. Played by Charles Gillespie, Owen Joyner, and Adventure Time’s Finn the Human Jeremy Shadda, Julie’s absolute himbo bandmates died 25 years earlier, just as they were about to live out their dream of playing the Orpheum Theater.
After releasing their spirits back into the world of the living, Julie and the guys decide to form a band together, facing the challenges any normal high school band might: getting gigs, stage fright, rival music groups, missing rehearsals, blossoming love interests. But because of their unique (and partly undead) group dynamic, they must also deal with a number of other issues from the beyond: settling unfinished business, convincing the rest of the world that 75% of the band are Swedish holograms, and of course what to do when you’re falling in love with a ghost.
With creatives like Kenny Ortega working behind the scenes, Julie and The Phantoms has its own High School Musical moments, with over the top musical numbers and a high school where they seem to do very little actual schoolwork.
The costumes are glitzy, the teenage hormones are rampant, but unlike some of the musical high school predecessors (HSM, Camp Rock, Glee), it tackles larger issues with care and kindness (I’m looking at you, Glee). It deals with grief and loss. Its men are kind and soft, emotional, and free with their love for each other and what they do. The characters are strong and confident, yet not infallible. While some side characters remain a bit underdeveloped, the promise of season two presents opportunities for growth and new challenges.
Overall, this story of friendship is one that has brought me a lot of joy — and in a very short amount of time; I binged it in two sittings. I laughed out loud, as well as shed a few tears. I can’t really be blamed for the latter, though; if Gillespie’s performance of “Unsaid Emily” doesn’t have you crying into your Phish Food, then get your heart checked out, my friend.
It is silly and absurd, and, I’ll be the first to say it, the ghost mechanics make no sense. But none of that stopped this show and its characters from dragging me tapping toes first into this stunning display of musical talent. Julie and the Phantoms has found a star in Reyes, and I have a feeling we will be seeing a lot more of her. And will be all the better for it.
