Sunflower (2023) by Gabriel Carrubba

Sunflower (2023): One Boy, One Summer, One Big Secret

A boy trying to understand himself – and a world that doesn’t make it easy

Picture this: you’re sitting with your mates, everyone bragging about girls and their so-called “experience,” and you’re just there… nodding along, while your mind is in a completely different movie. That’s Sunflower – the story of Leo, a teenager from the working-class outskirts of Melbourne, trying to figure out who he is. And more importantly, how to be that person without getting laughed at, beaten up, or shut out.

 Who’s Leo?

Leo is seventeen. He lives with his mum, stepdad, and older brother – the type who makes fun of you but would punch someone else for doing the same. Leo isn’t shy, but he’s quiet. He’s not awkward – he’s just… tense. Like he’s always holding something back. Which he is.

His friends are typical boys – loud, crude, obsessed with fingering girls and making up stories about Carly. But Leo? He’s not into that. Or her. And it’s killing him.

 Family & the world around him

The family dinners in this film? Chef’s kiss. Passive-aggressive comments, awkward jokes, and interrogations disguised as “casual questions.” One of the funniest (and realest) moments comes when Leo asks to go to a small party:

“A gathering? What’s a gathering? Sounds like a cult.”

And Leo just forces a smile and says, “It’s not a party, just a few friends…” – like walking on eggshells is his daily routine.

School’s no better. Another kid came out and ended up kicked out of his house. Nobody’s asking how he’s doing – they’re just worried if he’ll hit on them. And Leo watches all this from the corner, sinking deeper.

 The acting & vibe

Liam Mollica is Leo. He doesn’t feel like an actor – he feels like someone you might actually know. Every silence, every small gesture hits.
And the direction? Gabriel Carrubba keeps it quiet. The camera doesn’t move much – it observes. It lets you sit in the discomfort. The score is subtle, but it knows when to nudge your heart.

Sunflower doesn’t explain. It shows. You’re not being guided – you’re sitting in the passenger seat, hoping this kid finds peace.

 Key moments

• That first attempt with a girl? Spoiler: it doesn’t go well. Body says one thing, heart says another.
• The moment with his brother:
  

  “You’re still my brother, man. Nothing changes.”

• And yes, the bed scene with another boy. Quiet. Gentle. Honest.
  But also – the conversation. The one that breaks the silence:
  

  “When did you know?” – “Around 12 or 13.” – “Do your parents know?” – “Yeah… now they do. It wasn’t easy.”

 What people are saying

Many viewers felt this story on a personal level. Some said it felt more like real life than a film. And honestly – they’re right. The dialogue isn’t polished. It’s raw. The kind of stuff you overhear at school or during a fight with your dad.
There’s nothing flashy about Sunflower – but that’s exactly what makes it stick.

Yes, some might find it slow. Or “not much happens.” But when it does hit – it hits hard. Because it feels true.

 Who should watch this?

This isn’t a “rainbow explosion” pride film. This is a quiet coming-of-age story about a boy who’s scared to be honest, even with himself.
If you’ve ever been scared to speak, scared to be seen, or just wanted someone to say “You’re fine the way you are” – this one’s for you.

It’s not for everyone. But if you get it – you’ll really get it.