Synopsis
Jean, a PE teacher, is forced to live a double life. When a new student arrives and threatens to expose her sexuality, Jean is pushed to extreme lengths to keep her job and her integrity.
2022 Directed by Georgia Oakley
Jean, a PE teacher, is forced to live a double life. When a new student arrives and threatens to expose her sexuality, Jean is pushed to extreme lengths to keep her job and her integrity.
Rosy McEwen Kerrie Hayes Lucy Halliday Lydia Page Stacy Abalogun Amy Booth-Steel Aoife Kennan Scott Turnbull Farrah Cave Lainey Shaw Izzy Neish Dexter Heads Becky Lindsay Ellen Gowland Gavin Kitchen Maya Torres Deka Walmsley Edmund Wiseman Kylie Ann Ford Emily Fairweather Elizabeth Shaw Kate Soulsby Isla Bowles Oliver Maratty Quinn George Kasfikis
בלו ג'ין, 블루 진, Грустная Джин, 蓝色珍妮, 藍色女人
the determination of british cinema to not let margaret thatcher rest in peace for a second is one of the few things i can stand about this country
incredible how gay people have always resorted to dying their hair after any inconvenience
“fuck off maggie you bastard slag” is perhaps the greatest sentence in the entire english language
this film did a great job of accurately portraying how evil girls who play netball at school are
Blue Jean is a scathing reminder of how repressive Britain has been towards the LGBTQ+ community. Section 28, the legislation the film centres around, which banned the "promotion of homosexuality", was still in place in the 21st century. That fact is both disgraceful and also terribly sad. Blue Jean is beautifully executed, tackling its subject matter with care and refusing to cheapen itself with an entirely happy or sad ending. It just acknowledges the pain of people living in an unequal society, while also showing the solidarity and help that can come from within a small, shared community. The film presents awful, terrible choices that have no right answers. This reflects most in the situations debated within Blue Jean, where…
LFF 2022
The TV hates you. The radio hates you. Your neighbour hates you. The giant billboard outside your home hates you. Your colleagues hate you, without even realising you're the object of their hate. You live in Schrödinger’s Closet, out to some but a closed book to others, in a constant state of paranoia where remaining quiet will only last you so long. Your choices boil down to joining in state and social enforcement of this institutional hatred, or refusing to do so and risking your career, reputation and livelihood.
At a time when the rotting carcass of Section 28 has once again reared its ugly head, we need films like Blue Jean more than ever.