Blue Jean (2023) Dir. Georgia Oakley

There’s a lot to be ashamed off when watching Georgia Oakley’s debut feature Blue Jean. Set in the north east during the height of Thatcherism, it deals with the fallout of the awful Section 28 Local Government Act, which prohibited the promotion of homosexuality or any indication that gay people provide a ‘pretended family relationship.

It's a dark period of UK history, not least because the legislation lasted well-beyond Thatcher’s rule, not being repealed until November 2003.

Oakley highlights how damaging Section 28 was by showing it in a microcosm, focusing on PE teacher Jean (Rosy McEwen) who is forced to hide her sexuality during the day but spends her evenings with her more open partner Viv (Kerrie Hayes) and their friends.

Things become more complicated when Lois (Lucy Halliday) joins the school. Lois is also gay and struggling to find her place in the world. When she turns up at a bar frequented by Jean and her friends, Jean becomes increasingly paranoid that Lois could reveal her secret and jeopardise her career.

McEwen is brilliant as Jean. Effectively showing her struggle without dipping into melodrama. She has a wonderfully expressive face, enabling her portray Jean’s feelings without resorting to clunky dialogue.

And Oakley is careful, for the most part, to not add unnecessary conflict in the opening half. For much of the film, Jean is shown to enjoy her job, with her sexuality being a moot point as it has no impact on her ability to coach netball or teach PE.

It’s unfortunate then, that when conflict does arise, it almost risks derailing the film. It’s not that the teenage jealously and spitefulness that threaten Jean’s life are unrealistic, it’s just that the incident feels so much louder than the rest of the film.  This writer came out of the screening feeling that Jean’s inability, or refusal, to protect Lois could have been addressed in different ways.

McEwen’s performance is such that Oakley could have kept this as an intimate character study. At the start, Jean has already had to seclude herself from her colleagues to some extent; forgoing work drinks for time at local gay bars with her friends and ignoring pointed remarks about her seemingly solitary existence.

Similarly, she has a strained relationship with her family. Her sister and brother-in-law, while (perhaps begrudgingly) accepting Jean, buy into the politicisation of homosexual relationships and snidely degrade Jean, implying that her lifestyle will damage her young nephew.

Later scenes show a natural conflict arising between Viv and Jean, with Viv both understanding the position that Jean is in, but also pushing her to embrace her sexuality and guide young men and women like Lois. She argues that Jean should show them the safe spaces and communities that will give them a sense of belonging.

The incident, which occurs two-thirds of the way through leads to some course-correction from Oakley, who does manage to bring the film back to its more subtle stylings by the end. It’s just hard to see how its inclusion benefitted this film, when it’s the insidious comments, the personal paranoia of Jean that really hold your attention and show the damage of Section 28.

3/5

Matthew Tilt

Twitter @Matthew_Tilt