God's Own Country (2017)

image courtesy of theguardian.com

While I enjoy the outdoors, I can’t for the life of me ever imagine doing work like this. I’m not against manual labor and I’m certainly a supporter of all things farming, but watching Josh O’Connor haul himself through the mud, sleet, and thankless grind of a Yorkshire sheep farm made my bones ache. That unglamorous authenticity is precisely where this film earns its keep - it doesn’t romanticize rural life; it shows you the cracked hands and the cold and lets you sit in it. It would be a disservice to knock this film as a ripoff of Brokeback Mountain, though you can’t deny some similar themes and a setting that scratches at the same lonesome, wide-open nerve. But where Brokeback is operatic and tragic, God’s Own Country is quieter, stubborner, and ultimately more hopeful. Director Francis Lee keeps things refreshingly simple. There’s no grand melodrama, no sweeping orchestral manipulation. Just two men, a stretch of moorland, and something slowly thawing between them. The Yorkshire landscape is genuinely stunning - rolling, grey-green, and ancient-feeling. It’s indifferent, demanding, and beautiful in the way difficult things often are. What elevates the film beyond a straightforward romance is its honest interest in how love can reshape a person from the inside out. Johnny (O’Connor) isn’t just falling for someone; he’s being held accountable for the first time. Romanian migrant worker Gheorghe (Alec Secareanu) doesn’t fix him - that’s too tidy - but his presence, his patience, and his quiet self-respect force Johnny to confront the version of himself he’d been sleepwalking through. That’s a more interesting story than mere attraction. It’s about companionship as a mirror, and what you choose to do with your own reflection. Modest, affecting, and beautifully shot. It lingers.

3.5 out of 5 Stars