Weekend (Andrew Haigh, 2011) and God’s Own Country (Francis Lee, 2017)

by Fiona Underhill.

The English class system pervades every aspect of the popular culture that comes from there, including gay representation on film. The popular image of the gay man in British culture is the upper-class fop – probably because the most famous gay man for at least a century was Oscar Wilde (the fact that he was actually Irish, not English doesn’t affect the image of him as a cut-glass toff). Wilde has been portrayed by two English celebrities who are openly gay – Stephen Fry in 1997’s Wilde and Rupert Everett in 2018’s The Happy Prince. The 1970s and 80s perpetuated this image of the dandy gentleman – first with the raconteur Quentin Crisp (played by John Hurt in The Naked Civil Servant 1975), Kenneth Williams (known for affecting an overtly camp and posh persona in the Carry On films) and then through the period works Brideshead Revisited (TV series, 1981), Another Country (1984) and Maurice (1984). It was, however, the 1980s that also introduced the first real representation of working-class gay men on screen (and an inter-racial romance, no less), in 1985’s My Beautiful Laundrette (directed by Stephen Frears and starring Daniel Day Lewis).

Two of the best films of the last decade have provided a sensitive portrayal of working-class British gay men in the Midlands and North of England. Weekend (2011) directed by Andrew Haigh is set in the high-rise flats of urban Nottingham. God’s Own Country (2017) directed by Francis Lee is set on a rural farm in Keighley, Yorkshire. Both are crucially, contemporary pieces instead of the period films which the UK are known for internationally. Weekend is about a romance that develops quickly between the shy Russell (Tom Cullen) and the more confident Glen (Chris New) over a weekend which must be abruptly cut short by the fact that Glen is moving to America. God’s Own Country is about an isolated and angry young farmer, Johnny (Josh O’Connor), who is brought out of his shell by a Romanian itinerant worker, Gheorghe (Alec Secareanu), who comes to help with lambing season. Both films feature these young men trying to break down barriers with others, express themselves with honesty and vulnerability and experience intimacy – all of which can be a struggle for the male psyche.

Refreshingly, neither film involves the characters having to hide the fact they’re gay or a big coming-out scene and neither film involves homophobic violence or a tragic death (eg. from AIDS), which were features of gay cinema for some time. In Weekend, Russell does have some hang ups about being ‘out and proud’ in the wider world. One of the first shots of the film shows him weighing up a pair of bright red, white and blue sneakers which he rejects in favor of muted black and gray ones, perhaps for fear of drawing attention. Weekend does depict homophobic microaggressions from the wider public - on a train there is a group of young people mocking a camp way of walking and Russell takes his hat off, again in fear that it could be interpreted in a remotely gay way. Glen is much more demonstrative and ‘in-your-face’ and this leads to conflict between the characters. In God’s Own Country, despite being from an extremely traditional working-class family, (his Dad calls him wet, soft etc), Johnny doesn’t hide who he is. It is also clear from an encounter with an old school friend that she knows he’s gay too. The challenge for Johnny is much less about him being worried about people knowing that he has gay sex (which he does – in casual encounters in public spaces, including a cattle auction and a pub bathroom) but much more about him experiencing genuine and deep emotions, intimacy and a potential relationship with someone.

Both Glen and Russell (Weekend) have an outlet to express themselves. Glen interviews and records the people he has sexual encounters with the next morning, getting them to describe how they hooked up and why. Glen works in a gallery and views this as part of his “art”, something which he’s going to study in Portland, Oregon. Russell seems bored and dissatisfied with his job as a lifeguard. He views his flat as a sanctuary, somewhere he feels comfortable and which he has filled with eclectic charity-shop finds. He also keeps a diary on his laptop of his sexual encounters and these entries show that he has some talent for writing. Russell is more open to the idea of a relationship than Glen, although by the end, just as Glen has to leave, it is clear he has developed some feeling for Russell. The camera (and by extension us) has been the ‘third wheel’ in the relationship for the whole weekend, we have been up close and personal with these two characters throughout. This is thanks to the handheld camerawork of cinematographer Ula Pontikos. For the final farewell on the train platform, the camera hangs back and their dialogue is mostly inaudible, making it a private moment between the characters which we do not share. 

In GOC, Johnny’s only outlet for his physically demanding and rigorous work on the farm is smoking cigarettes, getting drunk on pints in the local pub (where he doesn’t talk to anyone) and casual sex. It is only Gheorghe’s arrival that awakens him and opens his eyes to what is around him – the stunning landscape (which is gradually revealed more and more by DP Joshua James Richards, who also shot The Rider), the animals and land and small treasures like sheep’s cheese. He also makes Johnny look beyond just the physical release that sex can bring – they talk, they hold one another, they share a bath. Even a tiny gesture like Gheorghe gently stroking Johnny’s finger with his own (when they are at the hospital because of Johnny’s Dad) is more affectionate and meaningful than any of the sex Johnny has had previously. 

In both Weekend and God’s Own Country, the characters claim back and take ownership of words which historically have been used to hurt gay men. After they have had sex for the first time, Johnny and Gheorghe are huddled around the fire on the freezing hillside, eating pot noodles. Gheorghe looks at Johnny with a smirk and says; “freak” Johnny responds with “faggot” and smiles. Johnny has only cracked the tiniest hint of a smile up to this point and we can just see the beginnings of him starting to relax around Gheorghe. He has been so isolated, he doesn’t even know how to be friends with someone, let alone in a relationship. This ‘banter’ is the start of Johnny easing up and opening up to Gheorghe. In Weekend, Russell discovers that Glen has written the word ‘faggot’ on his fridge in comically child-like magnet letters. Russell hastily rearranges the letters, showing his discomfort. Glen is much more likely to weaponize gay slurs or use them for comic effect than Russell, who is quieter, more unsure of himself and who likes to go under the radar in public spaces. Glen overhears a kid calling another “queer” from Russell’s flat and he shouts out of the window (from 14 floors up!): “I’m gonna rape your holes.” Russell and Glen argue about the “right way” to be gay, with Glen viewing gay marriage as conformity and Russell seeing it as a radical statement. By the end of the weekend, they have learned from each other but not compromised who they are. There is more than one way to be gay.

The characters in both films have complicated relationships with their families. Russell is an orphan and was brought up in foster homes, where he met his best friend Jamie who is like a brother to him. The film opens with Russell going to a party at Jamie’s house, where most of his friends are straight. This is Russell’s ‘found family’ and although he is comfortable with them, he tells them he’s going home after the party but instead goes to a gay club. There is still an element of this part of Russell’s life being closed-off or hidden. Jamie is keen for Russell to share information about who he is seeing and his feelings for them, he encourages Russell to open up to him, in a similar way to Gheorghe does with Johnny. It is Jamie who pushes Russell to go to the train station for a last, romantic parting with Glen. Johnny’s father and grandmother are both harsh with Johnny, frequently barking orders at him and implying he’s not working hard enough or not good enough. Although he doesn’t articulate it, it’s clear through his actions that Johnny feels a huge sense of responsibility and loyalty to his family and the farm. When Johnny’s Dad has a stroke, Johnny tries to care for him (there is a particularly tender scene where he bathes his father) and also tries to take on the running of the farm, including the financial responsibilities. After Johnny and Gheorghe fall out and Gheorghe leaves, his father can see the effect it has on Johnny. There is a heartbreaking scene where Johnny makes it clear that he can only take on the farm in his own way and if he has Gheorghe with him. His Dad says; “me….farm…this” urging Johnny not leave, but he realizes that Gheorghe will “make you happy.” Gheorghe has had a profound effect on every aspect of Johnny’s life, including his relationship with the farm and his family.

Funnily enough, there is a reference to the sort of films that the UK is usually known for in Weekend. Glen tells Russell about watching Merchant Ivory’s Room with a View when he was young. Russell says “is that the one with all the poshies in all the houses?”. Glen describes the famous naked bathing scene and pausing the video on “Rupert Graves’ shuddering cock,” he was caught masturbating by a friend who then told the whole school. It is Merchant Ivory who also produced Maurice (and James Ivory would go on to win an Oscar for adapting Call Me by Your Name of course). Ismail Merchant and James Ivory were in a personal as well as professional relationship with one another for around 45 years. So, they very much set the tone for gay representation in British film. However, it is refreshing to have two younger British writer-directors in Andrew Haigh and Francis Lee come along in the last decade and provide a viewpoint which is not only contemporary, but also looks beyond the upper-class. They have created four characters in Russell, Glen, Johnny and Gheorghe who have touched so many lives, who the audience really care for and invest in. Their romances (which we see onscreen) only last a weekend or a couple of weeks but we can imagine where things might have gone after the cameras stopped rolling. These characters live on in the hearts and minds of the viewer. We should be thankful for these tender and sensitive portrayals of young masculinity and how these young men can be opened up by the right person, who shows them a new perspective and gives them a new lease of life.

Find where to watch Weekend and God’s Own Country here.