TIFF 2024 'Really Happy Someday': J Stevens, Breton Lalama craft captivating film on transition, rediscovering oneself

Making its premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF), Really Happy Someday directed by J Stevens, co-written by Stevens and the film's star Breton Lalama, is an engaging journey of a rising musical theatre star. Z (Lalama) is one year into taking testosterone and struggling to fully feel in control of his voice, but through the help of a vocal instructor and his boss Santi (Xavier Lopez), Z finds more confidence and strength in his own body.

Impressively, Really Happy Someday was filmed over the course of a year, in small portions, with Z's journey mimicking Lalama's throughout the course of the production. It's a process that allowed for a truly real and authentic representation of Z's transition.

"We just talked about how there was no other way to do this film," Stevens told Yahoo Canada. "It felt also important to authentically put that representation, that transition, that struggle on screen."

"And also, the beauty of shooting it in small portions over a year was that we were able to learn and grow and adapt in real time, as Breton and I learned and grew and adapted as well."

For Stevens and Lalama, their collaboration began as somewhat a meeting of luck, or fate. They had followed each other on Instagram for a while and one day ran into each other in Toronto and chatted for only about 45 seconds. That also happened to be Lalama's one-year anniversary on testosterone.

"That night [Breton] posted so many Instagram stories about his vocal transition and I watched them all, and he was answering ... a bunch of questions," Stevens explained. "I went, this is the nuanced version of the film I've been trying to write for two years, just in terms of the themes that I wanted to cover."

"So I reached out to Breton and I said, 'This is weird, because we've met for 45 seconds, but would you ever want to co-write a feature film and star in it?'"

And the rest is really just the magic we see on screen in Really Happy Someday.

"I'd had a huge talent crash on J for a long time, was a big fan of their work," Lalama said. "I knew them as this person who was getting things done and making things in a way that was really thoughtful and really queer and right."

"I was really struggling with transition and it was like J was offering me a way to kind of make that battle, that struggle feel worthwhile, or meaningful. And I think I was hungry for that at that time."

'I was hesitant, always, because of singing'

Something particularly compelling that Stevens allows in Really Happy Someday is for the audience to really sit in the more quiet, solitary and vulnerable moments with Z throughout the film. That also includes really honestly depicted scenes of Z's testosterone injections.

"I grappled a lot with, are we going to put a T shot on screen? Is that even the point?" Stevens said. "Then you just realize that act is so politicized these days, and people fear it so deeply in a way that I don't understand, and I think I almost wanted to take ... the scary power away from it by just showing it on screen, without editing around it."

"I just wanted to watch that happen in real time and put that on screen to be like, 'What are you so scared of?' And I think that's where those moments felt important to represent for me."

But at the core of the film is this vulnerability of Z's evolving relationship with his body, and quest for this musical theatre lover to regain the confidence in his voice.

"Yes, there's terrible things happening for trans people and trans healthcare and access to it. It is easier now, even three and a half years later, to start to get on testosterone," Lalama shared. "When I was starting you had to go through a year, basically, of proving you were mentally fit and weren't having delusions, ... which is really hard to do."

"I was hesitant, always, because of singing. ... The alternative, to be quite blatant, was no life. ... There's nothing poetic or exciting about it. It was truly a matter of living or dying for me, and I did lose my voice, and only in the last six months have I actually got my voice back ... to a professional singing level. Every day I'm so grateful that is possible."

'The folks behind the camera match what we were seeing in front of it'

But in order for Lalama to go to these vulnerable places to play Z, the environment behind the camera had to be conducive to telling such a powerful story, which was a priority for Stevens.

"I have so much respect for actors and what they do ... and the vulnerability Breton has in this film, and trust that he put forward in making this film is something I'll eternally be grateful for," they said. "It was very important for me that the folks behind the camera match what we were seeing in front of it."

"We were a small crew. I basically have all the controls, so there was no network, anyone saying you have to hire these people or this person doesn't have enough on their resume. ... We were almost an entirely gender-diverse crew. ... It was also life-changing for me, I had never been in a space where you're the majority before."

"I think as any minority, you're always used to being the only in the room and that can feel overwhelmingly isolating," Lalama added. "Like when you're working on big sets, especially when there's hundreds of people and you know you're the only trans body, and you're a burden on everyone."

"The euphoria of just being able to breathe so freely, knowing that you are the majority, but it's not even about just knowing that you are seen totally because the people that you're with share the same language of experience and living, I truly believe that it makes better work."