Rampant discrimination stoked from the HIV/AIDS epidemic paved the way for Margaret Thatcher’s government to enact Section 28: a series of laws prohibiting local authorities “promoting homosexuality”. Promotion included, but was not limited to, publishing material that supported same-sex relationships and teaching state school students that homosexuality is an acceptable family-relationship dynamic. Naturally, the legislation resulted in schools avoiding LGBTQ+ education altogether out of fear of dismissal, creating further obstacles for adolescents seeking out their identity.
Prior to the enactment of these laws, Geordie PE teacher Jean (Rosy McEwen) had kept her sexuality a secret anyway. Girls on her netball team, headed by Siobhan (Lydia Page), made playful jokes but Jean remained in control; staff drinks were politely avoided by going home to dye her hair and watch Blind Date instead. On the weekends is where Jean could fully express herself alongside girlfriend Viv (Kerrie Hayes), playing pool with friends in a dingy underground gay pub. She still has to hide her relationship from her 5 year old nephew to avoid her sister’s scrutiny, but life could be worse.
However, the introduction of new student Lois (Lucy Halliday) turns the initial awkward-jaunty comedic tone into an anxiety-fuelled spiral. Reluctantly joining netball as there’s no women’s football team (the sport still being deemed ‘unsuitable for females’), her speedy aptitude to the game clashes with Siobhan and rumours of Lois’ sexuality subsequently circle the school. Combined with rising political tensions and Viv’s desire to have their relationship more public, Jean’s manageable double-life is disrupted and quickly becomes overwhelming.
As a cishet man, I am incapable of fully understanding how it feels to be constantly on edge out of fear of being outed, and the consequences of that happening. As a private tutor, Blue Jean perfectly displays the boundaries between teachers and students regarding sensitive topics and current events. Our roles are more complex than simply helping a child attain their grades, but to also offer mentoring with navigating life in general. In spite of that, Jean’s desire to help her class find comfort in their identities now directly crosses the invisible line where the responsibility lies solely with the parent.
Different belief systems dictate how parents want to raise their child, so answering questions about the strikes and Andrew Tate through my leftist propaganda lens is unlikely what they are paying for. Yet, learning about sexuality is not opinion based, it’s Biology. For these laws to have restricted this education and result in paranoid witch-hunts is appallingly frustrating, and these emotions come through clearly in the film without being heavy-handed.
With much of the film being McEwen excellently restraining her character’s distress and identity, I experienced a lot of the emotion through Chris Roe’s score. When Jean first encounters a student outside of school and realises her vulnerability of eyes being everywhere, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up as the music distorted into a loud drone. Its harsh contrast with the overall 80’s aesthetic, including the authentic visual of shooting on film, meant it was especially effective and added an extra layer to our protagonist.
If it wasn’t for the astounding Aftersun (where you can find my piece here), I believe a lot more people would be touting Georgia Oakley for best directorial feature debut. Blue Jean accomplishes a lot on a small budget and gets the most out of some fantastic emerging talents. The movie also provides the strong message that no matter how “good” a lesbian you are according to the establishment i.e. keeping yourself hidden and non-combative against status quo ideals, society will still persecute you as a lesbian. By accepting who you are not only rebels against the outside forces, but it also helps improve how you feel by doing so.