An introduction to Blue Jean

Introduction to Blue Jean (Oakley 2022) by Dr Jonathan Williams at our screening in November 2025.

Blue Jean is written and directed by Georgia Oakley, and stars Rosy McEwen (Jean), Kerrie Hayes (Viv) and Lucy Halliday (Lois). It was released in 2022 and it won the People’s Choice Award at Venice Film Festival where it premiered. It also won best lead performance, best supporting performance, best casting and best debut screenwriter at the British Independent Film Awards.

Now, doing these intros is always a delicate balance of helping you get more out of the film without giving away any crucial plot points. I’m going to do my best, and this talk is eight minutes long so settle in!

Before I begin, a note on language. I’m going to use the word “queer” a lot to encompass gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, trans, non binary, and other identities. But Jean in this film identifies as a lesbian - and of course that means the film plays out differently than it might if the protagonist was a trans person or gay man, or even a bisexual woman.

Historic context, contemporary resonance

The film is set in the UK 1988, as the conservative Thatcher government enacts Clause 28 - commonly referred to now as Section 28. This was part of the Local Government Act 1988, that said local authorities (i.e. councils) “shall not intentionally promote homosexuality or publish material with the intention of promoting homosexuality”. Nor were any state schools allowed to “promote the teaching… of the acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship.” So, it’s an explicitly homophobic act, and incidentally it was not repealed across the UK until 2003.

Blue Jean is set in the north of England, in Newcastle. Director Georgia Oakley has talked in interviews about that choice - how the North had a different political environment to the South, and how Newcastle did have a queer scene, but it was small (whereas setting the film in Manchester - which even then was a “queer capital” - might have given Jean a much better support network). The character of Jean is also based in part on the lives, diaries and interviews of queer teachers in that area at the time. It’s an intentionally specific story.

However, it’s not a stretch to compare Jean’s situation to the issues queer people (and especially trans people) are facing around the world today. In the USA, in the UK and even here, where for example libraries find themselves having to cancel drag storytimes (or just deciding not to program them) due to concerns about bigotry and violence. In many of these cases, people are deploying the very same argument of “protecting our kids from the queers” that was used in the 1980s - an argument that falsely portrays queer and trans adults as predators, while also ignoring the existence of queer and trans kids. So there are some clear parallels.

Hostility and surveillance

One of the things that Blue Jean does really well is to show that in this kind of “hostile environment” towards queer people, the overt threats (like the possibility of Jean losing her job) don’t have to eventuate to have a real impact on how people feel and behave. The threat of homophobia is a constant background to Jean’s life. And that threat is underpinned for the viewer in various ways - for example, through Jean’s vigilance about disturbances outside her window, or in the jump scares when a skater darts past her car, or when Jean barely avoids stepping out into traffic. While those “scares” don’t necessarily result in physical harm, they serve to ramp up the viewer’s stress levels, just as Jean’s anxiety about Clause 28 increases.

Very few, if any, teachers permanently lost their jobs under Section 28 explicitly because they were queer, but the film shows that this isn’t really the point. We see Jean deciding not to take action where she maybe should, we see her saying things that are not true, or only partially true, or that go against what she believes in order to protect herself. Jean’s response to this threat is to become quieter, smaller, less visible as a lesbian.

The theme of visibility, of looking and surveillance, permeates the film, emphasised through the use of mirrors and windows. There’s one particularly striking transition, where an unfriendly neighbour looks across at Jean between their windows, and you can almost see Jean thinking that she’s being judged. The shot then transitions into school staff looking out the window and providing commentary on Lois playing football/soccer (taught to boys) instead of netball (taught to girls). The commentary seems to reinforce what Jean suspected about her neighbour’s thoughts.

Being under scrutiny also makes Jean (and by extension us) question how she behaves in every circumstance, how her actions might be viewed by others. And at times I found that quite uncomfortable as a viewer. For example, someone comments that queer teachers shouldn’t be around “vulnerable” students - then we see Jean in the changing rooms, and because we’ve been primed in that way, we might start wondering: is she watching those girls too closely? Is she looking too much? (Are we looking too much?)

The film shows how surveillance, hostility, that tension around visibility and safety, affects Jean’s behaviour and decisions - and ultimately how it can destroy relationships. Like I said: the threat doesn’t have to eventuate to have an impact. The explicit danger is that Jean might lose her job, but the really damaging possibility is that she might lose herself.

Use of colour in the film

On that cheery note, let’s talk a bit about the artistic side of the film!

It’s shot on 16mm film stock, which helps give a feeling of a different era. That’s assisted by the set design, wardrobe, food (look out for Jean’s sister’s dishes) and of course Jean’s constant indoor smoking.

The film also makes great use of colour throughout. It’s called Blue Jean, and blue really is the dominant hue. We see it in Jean’s house (tiles, crockery, ashtray, phone, bath) and also in her everyday surroundings (her car, cafe wallpaper, school uniforms and PE equipment, the English 8-ball pool table and lighting at the pub, and at the house party towards the end). This saturation makes it a little disconcerting when we get to scenes like Jean’s sister’s house, where the (very heteronormative) family unit is surrounded by shades of peach and beige, with almost a complete absence of blue. Likewise, there’s a lack of blue in the pub scene with Jean’s workmates, when a giant red arrow hovers above Jean, pointing her towards heterosexuality. So while blue doesn’t necessarily signal “safe” places for Jean, it does at least seem to indicate when we’re in her world.

There are many more things I’d love to explore, but I think that’s more than enough for a pre-film intro. If you’d like to talk more about the film, we’ll be having a coffee and film chat this Saturday. I’ll post a few interesting articles about Blue Jean on our Facebook page, too, if you want to read up on it. And don’t forget to vote in the star rating box in the foyer after the screening.

Further reading

Blue Jean: The lesbian teachers who inspired film about Section 28, Ian Youngs, BBC, 10 Feb 2023

Blue Jean: Why the Section 28 drama is a painful story worth telling, Amy Chiswell, Gay Times, 13 March 2023

Blue Jean review: Resisting the shame regime, Leonora Waite, In Between Drafts, 10 June 2023

Blue Jean Review: Georgia Oakley’s Queer Drama is an Exceptional and Intimate Character Study, Nadine Whitney, The Curb, 14 June 2023

Blue Jean Is a Painful and Hopeful Story of a Queer Teacher, Drew Burnett Gregory, Autostraddle, 21 June 2023