Richard Eyre’s “ The Children Act” critiqued its religious opposition to blood transfusions. Dea Kulumbegashvili’s “ Beginning” and Daniel Kokotajlo’s “Apostasy” explored the consequences of patriarchal submission for women in the faith. This approach, in turn, sharpens the film’s real critiques: of closed-mindedness, of cultures of fear and isolation, and of the danger that indoctrination poses to young people still developing their senses of self.įew films have been made about Jehovah’s Witnesses even fewer have engaged seriously with the strict insularity of their belief system, though that’s started to change in recent years. It’s empathetic even in how it treats the community’s authority figures, who are polite and occasionally unkind but always act from a place of faith. And if Jaime doesn’t share her beliefs? Then, Marike answers, “I can believe enough for the both of us.”Ĭontemplating devotion, whether to a person or a higher power, as a form of endurance born of blind faith, “You Can Live Forever” takes care not to criticize its characters for their honest convictions. But “You Can Live Forever” finds its most potent distillation of the conflict between love and faith in Marike herself, who fervently believes, like the other Witnesses, that Armageddon is imminent and, unlike the other Witnesses, that the long-promised “new system of things” will allow her and Jaime to be together, forever. Even Marike’s suspicious older sister ( Deragh Campbell) must be avoided. That community elders would stop the relationship is understood from the outset. Slutsky and Watts are equally interested in what happens after Marike one night follows a prayer with a passionate kiss, and once she and Jaime embark on a forbidden affair behind closed doors (or inside movie-theater bathroom stalls, as it were). As Jaime and Marike circle each other, at once exhilarated and agonized by one another’s company, this ’90s-set film lingers in the uncertainty of first love and in the nervous wonder of queer yearning. It’s usually just that.A tender and compassionate debut feature by writer/directors Mark Slutsky and Sarah Watts, the latter of whom grew up gay in a Jehovah’s Witness community, “You Can Live Forever” lets the romantic tension between its protagonists build slowly and naturally, in stolen glances and small touches.

It rains so much truth about how the cult affects impressionable, innocent people who buy into the delusions, whether from relatives or… Wait, no.

It’s heartbreaking how strongly Watts and Slutsky illustrated the effect of JW's brainwashing. I couldn’t help but feel sympathy towards the poor girl. Her religious conviction is as passionate as her romantic actions. Marike desperately wants the best of both worlds: being a good girlfriend living her gay truth while being a devout Witness. Once the lens is set on her, the film offers a fascinating yet harrowing outlook on religious repression. Surprisingly enough, she becomes the focal point after she pulls ALL the moves on Jaime. At first, Marike felt like a catalyst for the writers to explore the religion’s beliefs and rules. Jaime (and the viewer) are initially on the fence about Marike’s intentions. With Jaime as the fish out of the water, Marike positions her devout self to convert her. Once Jaime and Marike start their friendship-to-lovers arc, their separate upbringings are thrown into the fray. They amplify the romantic tension with their mutual gay goo-goo eyes.

Like every lesbian romantic drama, they share subtle gazes and facial acting. Actresses Anwen O'Driscoll and June Laporte are magnificent and deliver fantastic romantic chemistry. Their dates are restricted by JW-related activities and the ‘90s setting, but nothing’s sweeter than the scenes where they have fun.

Jaime and Marike’s friends-to-lovers romance is You Can Live Forever’s crux, and it’s as cute and romantic as *insert your favorite lesbian drama here*.

Jehovahs witness movie