A young woman with carefully touches up her blonde dye job in the opening moments of Blue Jean, painting the goop on her hair with efficiency.

Stepping from the bathroom into the living room of her drab flat, she settles on the couch to watch Blind Date, described by raucous host Cilla Black as “The show that tries to find a boy and a girl that go together like birds of a feather.”

The picture has been favorably reviewed ever since its Venice premiere last fall. Winner of four British Independent Film Awards, it opened in limited release in the U.S. by Magnolia.

Blue Jean’s originality recalls other breakthrough films from the U.K. that bring freshness to their queer gaze:— Andrew Haigh’s Weekend, Frances Lee’s God’s Own Country, Rose Glass’ Saint Maud and Charlotte Wells’ Aftersun among them.

It’s a drama rooted in incendiary political issue but one in which the activism remains in the background. while the focus is on intimate character study.

Set in Northeast England in 1988, it provides a snapshot of the period in which Margaret Thatcher’s Conservative government was pushing through the legislative proposal known as Section 28, making it illegal to “promote” homosexuality in state schools or sanction it as an acceptable family relationship.

Similarities to the so-called “Don’t Say Gay” bill in Florida and like-minded moves in other red states will escape no one in the U.S.

Thatcher and other Tories braying on TV: “Children who need to be taught to respect traditional moral values are being taught that they have an inalienable right to be gay.”

There are campaign billboards around town, and news of lesbian activists abseiling from the public gallery in the House of Lords down onto the Chamber floor.

Jean’s efforts to remain under the radar at school are challenged when outsider student Lois (Lucy Halliday) joins the team soon after spotting Jean at the pub.

The new player is ostracized at first, but gains acceptance once she scores the winning goal in game. This doesn’t sit well with the team’s mean girl Siobhan (Lydia Page), who starts taunting Lois with homophobic slur.

Oakley’s script draws from the experience of lesbians oppressed under Section 28, and that verisimilitude informs every moment of McEwen’s quiet but stirring performance, the strain showing in telltale flickers across her face.

Oakley does not build catharsis around the Section 28 news or even around a big epiphany for Jean. Instead, it comes without words, after a party at Sasha’s, where Jean surprises herself by being candid in response to a male guest’s questions. Finally, Jean has found new resolve and her need to change.