Review of the film “I Love You More” (2023)
After a year of online pillow-talk, Ben, a shy Kosovar teen, is beyond-excited to finally meet his first (but secret) love, Leo.
Love on Hold
In I Love You More, director Erblin Nushi gently opens the door to a world where a teenager quietly fights to be himself. Ben, a shy boy from Kosovo, is caught between major life decisions: moving to America with his family, meeting expectations, and… waiting for a boy he’s never met in person, but who already lives in his heart. As a queer film set in Kosovo, I Love You More adds a fresh, authentic voice to LGBTQ+ cinema.
The weight of unspoken words
Ben’s world is built on longing, hope, and fear. He doesn’t want to betray his family, but he also can’t deny his truth. While everything around him changes, he holds on – waiting for that one face, one meeting, one moment of real connection. Don Shala’s performance is subtle and deeply authentic – sometimes he says more with a glance than others with monologues.
Family as a mirror of love and pain
One of the most powerful aspects of the film is the way it portrays family. Ben’s mother is the soul of the household – warm, tired, resilient. She carries the weight of everyone’s needs, including her own silence. Her attempt to understand Ben is not always easy, but it’s genuine. In one scene, after learning the truth about his feelings, she gently asks: “If you meet him, will you be ready to go?”
Ben’s father is more distant, lost in his art and frustrations. His reactions are often defensive, not out of hatred but confusion. When he wonders aloud if Ben turned out “this way” because of him, it’s less about blame and more about helplessness. Still, even he, slowly and painfully, begins to shift.
Friendship and the space to come out
Ben’s friendship with a girl from school brings humor and an unexpected source of support. Their banter, teasing, and moments of connection build a believable teen dynamic. When he finally shows her a photo of Leo and admits the truth, her shock is honest – but so is her acceptance. No grand speeches, just a slow, quiet return to trust. It feels real.
The emotional lens
Visually, the film leans into warmth and softness. Landscapes of Kosovo are captured with care, bathing the story in the golden light of nostalgia. The camera stays close, but never intrusive – as if honoring the privacy of the characters’ emotional states. This visual tenderness matches the inner fragility of its protagonist.
Love not as a dream, but as a need
Ben’s longing isn’t romantic escapism – it’s survival. His quiet declaration, “Someone to love me,” carries years of silence. The film doesn’t treat queerness as a problem, but as a reality – tender, quiet, essential. First love here isn’t just about the other person. It’s about the first time you believe you are worthy of being loved. I Love You More handles this with quiet grace.
The silence that changes things
There are no big twists or dramatic showdowns. What stays with you are the small shifts – the conversation that finally happens, the parent who stays in the room, the friend who still wants to hang out. I Love You More doesn’t ask for applause. It asks to be listened to.
