REVIEW: ‘Blue Jean’ Is Powerful And Emotionally Complex

Written and directed by Georgia Oakley and starring Rosy McEwen as Jean in a startling and assured leading performance, Blue Jean is a powerful debut. Dealing with heavy thematic content where characters face the foreboding realization that they’ll have to lead two lives, the film follows Jean, a young gay woman who is forced to hide her sexuality while teaching high school PE.

Set in 1988 while Margaret Thatcher was prime minister, the film often has news playing in the background about the government proposing a bill, section 28, that would pass a law stigmatizing gay people. This causes Jean as well as many others to lead a double life. The legislature designation prohibited the “promotion” of sexuality and would cause the closing of LGBTQ+ support groups, cost people their jobs and therefore their livelihoods, all the while promoting the insidious belief that the only means of safety in an increasingly hostile world is the act of self-censorship. 

The film is so much more than simply a discussion about decade-related politics. While these events certainly have their claws on Jean, resulting in increased anxiety over who may have witnessed or overheard something she’d like to keep close to the chest, it’s just a part of a full story.

McEwen delivers an extraordinary performance in this deftly written character study. Her stoic exterior is undercut by skittish reactions, and emotive expressions that give away her fear and hesitation. From Jean’s dynamic with a new student, Lois (Lucy Halliday) who she spots at the gay bar she frequents, followed by her anger due to it, and her romance with Viv (Kerrie Hayes,) the film is eager to dig into all that makes up the internal world and wounds of this one woman. 

Jean is beautiful and heartbreaking in her complexity,  at constant war with herself. This is established in the opening as she stares at herself in the mirror, her face split in two representing the two halves of herself. She’s had to keep herself withdrawn from coworkers in fear of what would happen if her sexuality was found out, something that’s given even greater weight in the final moments.

Throughout the film her fear motivates her worst impulses and while they’re tough to watch, they’re the moments that make her all the more human. She’s not meant to be the pinnacle of benevolence, and why should considering the time she lives in as she continues to grapple with a world determined to “other” her?

Still, the film allows her redemption while never condoning what she does. Blue Jean exudes empathy towards the young woman at the heart of the film, one who is doing the best she can under the circumstances. Her work in school as a PE teacher also gives greater context to her character and the hurdles facing her. Watch McEwen’s face as she listens to another teacher speak in support of Section 28, preaching that their concern is for for young people and their “vulnerable minds.”

The writing from Oakley is extraordinary, capturing the quiet, burning, rage this kind of comment inspires, even if we have to bite our tongue in the moment. This type of self-aggrandizing virtue signaling has never been about the sanctity of young people. All it has ever been has been a way to shape and mold the most malleable and most vulnerable into mouthpieces for their unhinged, ignorant, bigotry. We’re seeing it today in places that continue to strip Trans kids of their rights by claiming it’s in their “best interest.” Blue Jean plays out as a foreboding echo. We’re not meant to view this film through the condescending guise of “how terrible it was then, we’re so much better now,” but instead as a funhouse mirror of what could be happening again.

The film is elevated by the moving score from Chris Roe, composed with delicacy mirrored by light reflecting on the glass. The grace the score infuses the film with is in active contrast with the constraints the characters are facing but serves as a reminder that the queer community has always offered spaces of refuge and camaraderie. It’s part of what makes the film such a revelatory and powerful viewing experience.

The support of the community is so crucial to Jean’s life as well as so many others, evidenced by the packed houses, clubs, and bars she visits. But they offer even greater significance in a world in which naive bigots and men with deep pockets look to silence and erase the voices that the community rallies behind. This element of the story and the ramifications the characters of the film deal with as a result of the proposed bill are felt today despite being set 35 years in the past.

The score comes alive too because there are frequent moments where the direction pivots into thriller mode. Every interaction has a double meaning, and every sidelong glance suggests a potential threat. Beyond the tight and controlled filmmaking in these moments, the sensation also stems from the viewer’s comprehension of how ugly this world can be — is, currently — especially when fueled by politically engorged prejudice and hate speech. 

Blue Jean excels not just for the technical achievements (of which there are plenty) but also for its atmosphere and tone that call for reckoning, in support of communal gatherings for safe and celebratory queer spaces. This is displayed best when the camera captures the look on the face of a character when she bears witness to a community of queer women who aren’t hiding. Instead, these women stand defiant in a court of their making, resulting in an emotionally impactful scene. Things don’t change overnight and things that do eventually change don’t necessarily stay that way. But, Blue Jean suggests small acts of compassion can be just as impactful. It’s not just about being seen, but about seeing yourself represented in spaces that allow freedom and self-expression. Oakley’s film may not be an optimistic story, especially within the confines of the time and era it’s set in. But it’s still uplifting through its remarkable moments of catharsis.

Blue Jean is an assured debut feature film from Georgia Oakley that is anchored by a star-making performance from Rosy McEwen. As it deals with tensions of the past, the film also takes pains in highlighting our current social dilemmas in a manner that is as chilling as it is a rallying call to arms.

Blue Jean is out now.