Stream It Or Skip It: ‘Blue Jean’ on Hulu, a Quiet, Poignant LGBTQ+ Drama Set During Thatcher’s Reign

In a just world, Blue Jean (now streaming on Hulu) would mark the emergence of two new stars, actress Rosy McEwen and writer/director Georgia Oakley. They anchor this indie character drama depicting the encroachment of politics into personal lives – McEwen plays a lesbian living in 1980s England, where Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher directs the government to avoid “promoting homosexuality.” That bigoted notion buzzes in the background as the characters contend with being marginalized, creating a tense dynamic for a thoroughly absorbing drama.

BLUE JEAN: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

The Gist: Jean (McEwen) shuts off the radio. It’s the usual blather about Thatcher’s government creating a moral tizzy with the usual coded what-about-the-children homophobic bullroar. Jean doesn’t want to hear it, but maybe she should. She works as a high school physical education teacher, closeted at work during the day, but at night, she frequents a gay bar with her lesbian friends. Among them is her girlfriend Viv (Kerrie Hayes), who’s out and proud of it. They’re hanging at Jean’s place one night when the doorbell buzzes. It’s Jean’s sister. She needs a last-minute babysitter. Of course Jean agrees – she loves her little nephew. And so we witness how Jean compartmentalizes pieces of her identity: The boy is here, and so it’s time for Viv to leave. The implication seems to be, he can’t be witness to That. You know, That. Two people in love. There’s nothing wrong with That, if you’re a reasonable person. And it appears maybe Jean’s sister might not be reasonable.

The situation is likely more complicated, though. It seems as if Jean’s just doing her damnedest to sidestep the conversation – just like she does at work, where she eats lunch alone, and it seems as if the other teachers might know, or suspect, but don’t say anything. It’s clear she sacrifices a crucial part of who she is in order to avoid being stigmatized, judged or maybe even fired. She’s jumpy and paranoid, and listens to a meditation cassette every night at bedtime to calm her anxiety. It’s as if she’s straddling two lives. Alienation is eating away at her. She’s withdrawn and timid no matter her peer group. She sits in the toilet stall at the gay bar and looks up at the graffiti: RESISTING THE SHAME REGIME is carved into the paint on the wall.

Complications arise at school with the arrival of Lois (Lucy Halliday), the new girl. She joins the netball squad Jean coaches. Lois is immediately the target of the other girls, especially Siobhan (Lydia Page), the lead bully. It’s as if the other girls can just smell it on Lois. One night at the bar with Viv and the girls, Jean spots Lois across the room, and the wall between Jean’s two lives suddenly seems precariously fragile. Here, Jean finds herself at a crossroads, where either option seems risky. But maintaining her current situation is just as toxic, isn’t it?

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Blue Jean has a similar understated aesthetic and approach to storytelling as two other recent character studies, Charlotte Wells’ Aftersun (also a debut from a highly promising director) and Happening (another period piece taking place at the intersection of the political and personal). 

Performance Worth Watching: McEwen is a quiet revelation here, expressing her character’s internal conundrum nonverbally, playing a woman who buries her pain until she has no more dirt to throw on top of it. 

Memorable Dialogue: The dichotomy, in dialogue:

Jean: Not everything is political.

Viv: Of course it is.

Sex and Skin: Nudity; a couple of medium-steamy sex scenes.

Our Take: Blue Jean is concise, economical storytelling, every scene feeding the character and the conflict. It’s a dense 97 minutes, with nary a wasted moment. Crucially, it’s also a true character study, driven from the inside out – Jean and her psychological struggle reflect the reality of a powerful governing body pushing institutional bigotry. Whenever Jean stands on the cusp of being comfortable, a news item or conversation among her peers reminds her that her “kind” is considered a morally depraved threat to “normal” and “ordinary” people and families. 

So it’s not a movie that puts the cart before the horse, creating characters who are puppets delivering a political message. Our empathy lies with Jean’s well-being, and then who she represents. The approach cuts to the heart of an issue and renders it less abstract, and more about people than ideas. That puts McEwen in a situation where she’s in almost every shot of the film, exploring her character and doing all the emotional heavy lifting. She’s remarkable in the role, expressing uncertainty and angst in a manner that’s relatably human.

Oakley crafts subtly potent scenes that never push credibility or spoonfeed us. She presents her protagonist with a profound point of conflict where the internal and the external collide. Jean is passing for straight unconvincingly, and can’t fully commit to her lesbian peer group, who create a safe zone where they love and support each other – love and support that Jean seems to feel as if she doesn’t deserve. No matter where Jean turns, there’s significant risk of pain and loss – which, notably, nobody can avoid no matter one’s sexuality, and that’s where Blue Jean becomes poignantly universal. The film shows us a woman living on the fault line between hope and despair, and all we can do is pray she chooses the former over the latter.

Our Call: Blue Jean is a thoughtful, well-written and extraordinarily acted character drama that never feels preachy, and always feels relevant. STREAM IT.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.