The grizzly Northeast, amid the homophobic Thatcherite 1980s era, sets the scene for Georgia Oakley's first feature-length, Blue Jean. Jean (Rosy Ewan) is a closeted PE teacher at a secondary school and head of the netball team. She leads a secret second life with her partner Viv (Kerrie Hayes).

After a failed (straight) marriage, Jean sports a short pixie haircut, bleached blonde. Pleased with her new style, Jean sees a more accurate reflection of her identity, yet feels uneasy as she struggles to accept her sexuality.

Section 28 is in full force; newsreels can be heard about queer adults indoctrinating and manipulating young minds on the school radio. Jean, much to her outwardly proud partner Viv's dismay, who flaunts an original riot grrrl aesthetic, hides their relationship from everyone. Only her closest friends know of their relationship, as they spend their evenings in the local dive of a gay bar.

Lois (Lucy Halliday) is new at school and is quickly judged by her classmates, who believe she is a lesbian. A chemistry of sorts forms between Lois and Jean, and she convinces her to join the school netball team. This angers fellow student Siobhan (Lydia Page), the popular girl and school bully who secretly has a crush on Jean.

The seemingly accidental connection between Jean and Lois grows greater. Jean finds herself loitering in the changing rooms, and an underage Lois shows up at the gay bar. The ambiguity causes issues between Jean and Viv, who presumes their friendship is far from innocent. The uncertainty of Lois and her outcome is where I feel the film needed more clarity.

Blue Jean isn't an uplifting film, nor is Jean a queer hero. Her internalised homophobia is a relatable struggle for many members of the LGBTQ+ community. Instead, it offers a thought-provoking experience that will have you questioning your actions. A typical ‘grim up North' feel shouldn't deter you; there is no doubt of this film's importance.

Blue Jean screened at Leeds International Film Festival

Podcast