Sneha Jaiswal (Twitter | Instagram)
Orphaned as a little boy, Tanrak grows up in a Catholic seminary, hoping to earn his ticket to heaven, in order to meet his parents in the afterlife. But his plans to become a ordained priest starts wavering after a new student shakes up his peaceful dorm life.
Directed by Aof Noppharnach Chaiyahwimhon (Last Twilight, 1000 Stars, Bad Buddy), Thai series Ticket to Heaven is set in the late 1990s, starring Fourth Nattawat Jirochtikul as the model student Tanrak, whose faith in God is tested when he finds himself drawn to the newly arrived troublemaker Barth, played by Gemini Norawit Titicharoenrak. Things only become more challenging when Tanrak realizes his love is not unrequited.
Now, having to choose between faith and one’s feelings is hardly a new theme in cinema, but this is the first time a Thai gay show uses Catholicism as a central theme in the story. That makes the seminary setting of Ticket to Heaven immediately intriguing, adding a fresh layer to an otherwise familiar romantic dilemma. Oliver Poupart plays Father Arnon, Tanrak’s moral guide at the seminary, who asks him to help Barth settle into life at the school and dormitory, unwittingly setting the stage for their romance.
Unfortunately, the six-episode series also opens with some of the most clichéd tropes imaginable. The moment Barth arrives at the seminary, he’s instantly shunned and bullied, with his classmates refusing to even sit with him at lunch like something out of Mean Girls. Then comes another classic BL trope: Tanrak and Barth end up locked out together and are forced to spend time with one another, inevitably bringing them closer. It’s a setup we’ve seen countless times, including quite recently in the Japanese BL Go for It, Nakamura-kun!!, which finished airing less than two weeks before this series.
Ticket to Heaven tries hard to strike a balance between its weightier themes of religion, repression, prejudice, and homophobia while also constructing a heartfelt coming-of-age story about two teenagers falling in love and coming to terms with their feelings. I use the word “construct” deliberately, because the series often relies on heavy dialogue to make its story feel emotionally profound. Quite often, the creators tell us about their characters’ traumatic pasts instead of letting us experience them. Barth, for instance, talks about his broken home, and although a few brief flashbacks offer glimpses of his life before arriving at Tanrak’s seminary, they come across as artificial inserts to inject some trauma into the tale.
There’s a certain flatness to the rhythm of Ticket to Heaven, and it’s hard not to think of the 2021 Taiwanese film ‘Your Name Engraved Herein’, which explores many of the same themes. Like Tanrak and Barth, its two leads bond over music, movies, and, of course, each other, but their emotional push-and-pull feels far more dynamic. By comparison, Tanrak and Barth often come across like exhausted men in their late 20s rather than teenagers wrestling with first love.
Gemini Norawit Titicharoenrak and Fourth Nattawat Jirochtikul were adorable in their breakout series My School President, which delivers exactly what it promises: a light, feel-good romance about a nerdy class president trying to win over his crush in the music club. Ticket to Heaven, on the other hand, never quite picks a lane. It awkwardly swings between being a ‘feel good’ coming-of-age romance and a weighty meditation on faith, guilt, and repression, without fully committing to either. Strip away the religious backdrop and relocate the characters to a regular 1990s boarding school, and surprisingly little would have to change.
That said, Fourth Nattawat Jirochtikul portrays Tanrak with the restrained grace the role requires, his good grades and model behavior motivated by the belief that he’ll earn his ‘ticket to heaven’ if he steadfastly places all his faith in the Almighty. Gemini Norawit Titicharoenrak, however, isn’t quite as impressionable as the confident, rebellious Barth, and he doesn’t really come across as someone forceful enough to challenge Tanrak’s entire belief system. But their onscreen chemistry is serviceable, and some of the show’s best moments are when Tanrak and Barth are simply playing the piano together or exchanging cute notes across the corridors.
The cinematography of Ticket to Heaven is visually pleasing, although some of its symbolic flourishes are too on the nose. In one scene, Barth and Tanrak lie on their dorm beds, reaching out to touch each other’s hands in a clear nod to The Creation of Adam. Moments later, the series cuts to the famous artwork itself, as if to tell viewers, “See what we did?” It completely undercuts the symbolism. Bollywood film Maa Behen which released the same month, features a scene in which a mother and son are electrocuted, dying with their hands outstretched towards each other. The visual evokes the same painting, yet the film doesn’t explain the reference, making the moment more darkly comic-tragic.
Elsewhere, Ticket to Heaven uses the image of a half-eaten apple lying on a bed after an intimate moment between Tanrak and Barth to symbolize their transgression. At least this time the show doesn’t spell out the metaphor. The problem is its placement. By that point, the two have already acted on their feelings before, making the symbolism feel oddly delayed. It would’ve landed much better had it appeared after something like their very first kiss.
The final two episodes of Ticket to Heaven also display an awkward tonal shift. Episode six feels so different that it makes one confused over the timeline. In the finale, the creators prioritize aesthetics over realism. After missing the last bus to some place, Tanrak and Barth are forced to spend the night at a supposedly “shady” motel near a bus stand, yet the place looks fine and even comes with a bathtub. I was reminded of April in Tokyo Is…, where a similar hotel-room sequence is awkward and heartbreaking because one character is deeply embarrassed by how modest the room is, reducing him to tears. In this Thai series, the scene looks nice, but doesn’t carry much emotional weight.
It’s easy to see why Ticket to Heaven will find an audience, but viewers expecting a more profound exploration of faith, identity, and repression may come away slightly underwhelmed. Its measured pace can be challenging, and most of the supporting characters aren’t memorable, with the notable exception of Oliver Poupart’s Father Arnon. Thankfully, he isn’t reduced to the clichéd role of the strict, dogmatic priest, instead serving as a considerate, thoughtful mentor to the conflicted Tanrak. Their relationship has a father-son warmth that helps ground the series’ emotional climax. And perhaps that’s Ticket to Heaven‘s biggest redeeming quality: despite what its opening scene leads you to expect, the story ultimately refuses to take the most predictable tragic route.
You can watch ‘Ticket to Heaven’ on Viki, GMMTV, and GagaOolala.
Find the writer on Twitter | Instagram
Read Next: Teach You a Lesson S1 Review: Gratifying Action-Fantasy Against Bullying
