Georgia Oakley is a screenwriter and director with a special penchant for non-conventional, female-led narratives. Her short films have screened at dozens of international festivals including SXSW, Tribeca, New York Film Festival and Galway Film Fleadh. She has participated in various talent development programs including the 2018 edition of Berlinale Talents. Blue Jean is her feature film debut.
Blue Jean will be screened as part of Venice Days at the Venice Film Festival, which runs from August 31st to September 10th.
W&H: Describe the film to us in your own words.
GO: The film is set in the north of England in 1988. It tells the story of a lesbian gym teacher named Jean who is forced to lead a double life thanks to a new law called Section 28 introduced by Margaret Thatcher and the government said it illegal to “promote” homosexuality in schools and local government.
During research for the film, I spoke to a handful of women who had lived experience as physical education teachers at the time and who were being tricked into lying about their sexuality at work. All reported some sort of fragmentation of their identities and resulting mental health issues.
Blue Jean is a portrait drama that questions a woman’s life and choices before the law is passed. It documents the ripple effect that institutionalized homophobia can have on every part of your life.
W&H: What attracted you to this story?
GO: I read an article about a group of lesbians who abseiled from the gallery into the House of Lords during a debate on Section 28 in early 1988. And I was struck by this amazing image and what could have led to this event, historically. But I was also amazed that I had never heard of this law, even though it was only repealed in 2003. I started thinking about the impact it would have had on gay teachers, but also the indelible mark it had left on my life unbeknownst to me of its existence.
W&H: What should people think about after seeing the film?
GO: I wanted to portray a character without glorification or misrepresentation. I don’t necessarily want the audience to think anything specific. Rather, it is about fostering empathy. I also hope that people will appreciate the film’s uniqueness, but that they can also relate to it.
W&H: What was the biggest challenge in producing the film?
GO: Time is always the biggest challenge. Our first AD [Jamie Hamer] had his job cut out for him. It also takes a long time to get a first feature off the ground, so a lack of time coupled with the insane pressure of getting it right the first time makes for an interesting cocktail of fears. It’s difficult with movies because they cost a fortune to make, so there’s not much room for failure as a healthy part of the creative process.
We were fortunate to have the support of BBC Film and the BFI who aren’t too focused on getting their money back but still. Creativity is not a hole-in-one sport and I think we need to talk about it more as an industry.
W&H: How did you get your film financed? Share some insights into how you made the film.
GO: I had an AGM at BBC Film in 2018. At this point the idea was in the making. Maybe a line or two and that’s it. But they encouraged me to develop it further with producer Hélène Sifre. We worked together to bring it to iFeatures a few weeks later – a development lab run by Creative England, BBC Film and the BFI. This gave us the financial means to write the first drafts. We then got further development from BBC Film for a year or two. And then the BFI came on board to co-finance the film with BBC Film for production.
W&H: What inspired you to become a filmmaker?
GO: As a teenager, I had a chance encounter on a movie set. I was an extra on a big studio production in London for a couple of weeks. Nobody I knew worked in film, so I had no idea there were all these jobs you could do, from costume design to art to editing.
I have a very clear memory of opening a wooden cabinet in the hospital they built on set. It wasn’t a cupboard meant to be opened in the scene, but nonetheless it held all these miniature bottles and toiletries, beautifully branded and labeled. It didn’t matter that they were never meant to see the light of day, they were there to create a world within the walls of the studio, to transport everyone there to another time and place. I was mesmerized by the attention to detail and knew this was a form of storytelling to invest my life in.
W&H: What is the best and worst advice you have received?
GO: The worst advice I got was from another director who said if I didn’t know the answer to something, I should do it. He said anything is better than saying you don’t know. Even as an impressionable young filmmaker, alarm bells started ringing for me.
As a director you learn to trust your instincts. It’s a muscle you have to keep flexing, and you’re getting pretty good at it, mostly because if you ignore your instincts until it’s too late, you’re the one who has to live with it. So if I need more time to think about something, or I really don’t know the answer, I have no qualms about speaking up and/or asking for help. I also like to make this part of the culture on set because there will be times when an actor doesn’t feel comfortable or confident and you want them to come to you so you can take some of the anxiety out of the situation and have a laugh about it when the situation demands. Vulnerability is important and should be nurtured and encouraged.
The best advice I was given was probably something along the lines of “preparation will set you free”. I always prepare too well. Even if I forget it all that day or never look at it again.
W&H: What advice do you have for other female directors?
GO: At the moment there is a lot of discussion about women directors, especially women directors who resent being called “women directors” – my take on this is that for a long time only one type of person has been given the opportunity to direct films. Now the tides are changing and I will not hide the fact that I am female or that I am queer.
I think people should celebrate what makes them who they are. Minority gender, queer, POC, etc., etc. People will be thrilled to have the chance to work with a director who doesn’t fit the stereotype of directors of yesteryear. And more importantly, audiences are clamoring to hear their original stories.
W&H: Name your favorite film directed by women and why.
GO: When I first met Hélène, who produced “Blue Jean”, in 2017, we bonded over our love for “Divines” by Houda Benyamina. It’s such an electric, heartbreaking debut. I like films that disguise serious socio-political material under the framework of a good story. “Divines” is such a film. It’s a cliche, but if you think about it days later, to me it’s more than cinema, it’s a kind of magic.
W&H: What responsibility, if any, do you think storytellers have to confront the turmoil in the world, from the pandemic to the loss of abortion rights and systemic violence?
GO: I think as a filmmaker or writer you spend so much time working that the work becomes as much a part of you and your life as anything else. For that reason alone, and because of the enormous sums of money involved in filmmaking, I feel compelled to address such issues. Why bother for so long with something that has nothing to say?
They say if you’re not angry then you’re not paying attention, and I totally agree. Unfortunately, anger isn’t very healthy if you don’t have an outlet. You have to put it somewhere. If you can change someone’s mind about something they were otherwise committed to, it’s worth four years of work.
W&H: The film industry has a long history of underrepresenting people of color on screen and behind the scenes, and of reinforcing – and creating – negative stereotypes. What actions do you think need to be taken to make them more inclusive?
GO: Everything starts behind the camera. There are so many barriers to entry into the film industry. Mentoring programs and internship opportunities were few and far between at the beginning of my career. But I look forward to seeing more of them over the years. I can only speak from my experience, but when I was selected for a BFI/BAFTA-sponsored mentoring program specifically for queer filmmakers five years ago, it boosted my confidence and boosted every area of my career.
Imposter syndrome is very real. The types of people that grow up seeing the screen industry as within their reach are extremely narrow. If financiers and production companies can empower more people of color to tell their stories, then we will begin to see a reduction in these negative on-camera stereotypes.
When we started developing Blue Jean, people questioned our decision to tell a story about a lesbian gym teacher. “Isn’t that a nasty cliché?” they would ask. This question intrigued me. When we forensically examine this historical period and the lives of those affected, one does not bow to the clichés, does one? It’s just representation.
