Alec Secareanu, Josh O'Connor.
The Yorkshire landscape expands as far and wide as the eye can see, but it's not nearly as vast as the void inside Johnny Saxby, the glum, self-destructive sheep farmer at the center of the English drama “God's Own Country.”
The twentysomething lad has closed himself off at an age when life's possibilities ought to be at their most vibrant. Shortly after the film opens, we see him fixing a fence, and it's clear he's an expert, especially about tending to that barrier he's built around himself. The stultifying litany of daily chores, coupled with his repressed longings, have reduced our moody protagonist to a joyless shell of resentment and copious alcohol consumption.
Writer-director Francis Lee, here making his feature debut, doesn't handle Johnny's binge-driven routine with kid gloves. When he's milking the cows in his father's farm, you feel the headache from his hangover in your own temples. Lee also doesn't look away when Johnny (Josh O'Connor) has his way with a twink in a public restroom. Just don't ask for a kiss. He might be good in the saddle, but this cowboy doesn't do intimacy.
Josh O'Connor, Alec Secareanu.
The potential for “God's Own Country” to be smothered by its characters' misery is palpable in the early going, and is fairly compounded by the fact that Johnny's dad, Martin (Ian Hart), is recovering from a crippling stroke. It's something that worries Johnny's grandmother, Deidre (the ubiquitous Gemma Jones) to no end. But pay attention. Spring in blooming on this field in more ways than one.
Over Johnny's protests, Martin decides to hire a farm hand to help during the lambing season. Johnny's none too happy when he first sees Gheorghe Ionescu (Alec Secareanu). It doesn't take long to see what the source of the hostility is. This worker rolls his r's and speaks with an Eastern European accent. You can almost hear Johnny's thoughts: “Why did it have to be a freaking immigrant?”
Alec Secareanu, Josh O'Connor.
“We just need you for the week,” Martin warns Gheorghe at dinner in a scene that feels right out of a Ken Loach film, and it's evident Johnny's not the only one with the hang-ups.
And yet, Johnny's interest is undeniably piqued by by this Romanian stranger. Why does he have to be so good at his job? And why does he have to be blessed with eternal stubble? And why does he have to have piercing brown eyes? And why does he have to have an exquisite bubble bu-- wait, what is happening here?
Ian Hart.
But let's not get too far ahead of ourselves here. Lee is in no hurry to allow the men's simmering desire to grow. He also lets viewers acclimate themselves to the men's work, including a sheep birth that is reportedly no simulation.
If this is all sounding very familiar, the director is aware of the elephant in the room: namely, that other deliberately paced chronicle of sheepherders developing feelings for each other, helmed by another filmmaker also named Lee. “God's Own Country,” which screened last month in Fort Lauderdale as part of the OUTshine Film Festival, is clearly not asking you to forget “Brokeback Mountain.” In some way it pays homage to that pioneering LGBT work. But it also plays as a response to that film, something that comes through loud and clear in the ways it differs from the 2005 Oscar winner.
Beginning with the skin factor. Rather than stage Johnny and Gheorghe's consummation of their mutual attraction as a cog in the film's narrative, Lee invites us to spend time with the boys as they explore and get to know each other's bodies. This is also a coupling of souls, as Lee conveys in a series of furtive but potent glances, but the physical connection shouldn't be swept aside. Not that “Brokeback” was all that prudish in its depiction of sex, but it's safe to say “Country” frank, uncompromising scenes of carnal desire go deeper. Much deeper.
What's also refreshing about Lee's story is that it does away with the “common wisdom” perception that the only way for gay men in rural areas to truly be themselves and flourish is to abandon country life for the city. Through his deepening bond for Gheorghe, Johnny reconnects with the land and discovers a newfound appreciation for the natural beauty that has surrounded him all along. This might actually be the film's most subversive aspect.
Josh O'Connor, Alec Secareanu.
But there's also a rather conventional nature to the way Lee resolves his loverboys' tale. If there's a quibble I have with this otherwise fully felt romance is that it manufactures an obstacle to the men's relationship in a way that feels scripted. The story development is all the more glaring because the rest of the film feels so organic by comparison. What makes this a rather minor issue is that Lee takes pains to separate Johnny's sexual orientation from his demons, making his character's blossoming that much more affecting.
Gemma Jones.
Lee is invaluably aided by cinematographer's Joshua James Richards' stark, sweeping vistas and production designer Stéphane Collonge's lived-in sets, but it's clear the filmmaker places the bulk of this film's burden on his leads. To see O'Connor and Secareanu breathe life into these guarded men who choose to drop their defenses, and bring out each other's best selves in the process, is to watch a barren field grow lush and green. It's to be enveloped in a warm blanket after being buffeted by frigid gusts. The actors give it their all, and “God's Own Country” makes love at the movies feel new again.
“God's Own Country” is now showing at Florida Atlantic University's Living Room Theaters. That might seem like a long distance to go see a film. This one is well worth the drive. Trust me on this.
