I’m not naive enough to believe that Blue is the Warmest Color, a three hour, foreign language, NC-17 romance drama about two female women will have general audiences flocking to see it. Any one of these aspects could sadly dissuade a potential viewer from going—and to them, I say that's your loss! You just missed out on one heck of a well-acted, heart-wrenching story! However, for those of you loyal movie goers not afraid to see something different (with the chance of seeing something great), Blue is the Warmest Color falls right down your alley.
Based on the 2010 graphic novel, Blue is the Warmest Color tells the story of Adèle (Adèle Exarchopoulos, whose character name has been changed from Clémentine for somewhat obvious reasons). Adèle is a confused, out-of-place high school girl, tormented by her hidden sexual desires for other women—unsure of how to react. She even goes so far as to have sex with a boy just to see if she can “fit in”. After becoming fed up with her situation, Adèle goes with her openly gay friend to a gay bar where she meets Emma (Léa Seydoux), an older, blue-haired female that Adèle saw earlier in the film. Soon, she and Emma begin a relationship that goes through both ups and downs as the film progresses throughout the years of Adèle’s life.
As the world progresses in its viewpoints, films have become less likely to portray lesbians, gays, (and to a lesser extent, bisexuals and transgender people) in simple, stereotypical manners—such characters becoming more three dimensional and realistic. Now, that’s not always true, as there are still films stuck in the stereotypes, but Warmest Color is certainly a grand showcasing of this positive progression. Both Emma & Adèle could be highly interesting characters to watch even if their sexual orientations were completely unknown. Both females are fascinated with literature and arts, Emma herself being a graphic artist and a painter of fine art (Adèle puts it humorously that if there are fine arts, then are there “ugly arts?”). Adèle, on the other hand, is a lover of literature and American cinema (the fact that she enjoys both Scorsese and Kubrick gets her bonus points in my book), finding it difficult to analyze books based on teacher instructions as it limits her own opinions. The fact, however, remains that both their sexual orientations are known and dealt with throughout the film, making Warmest Color only that much more interesting and lifelike.
One of the worst possible times to realize you’re not who everyone thinks you are is in high school, and Adèle just happens to be stuck in that very situation when our story begins. Adèle is, presumably, bisexual (which Emma may also be) as her sexual relationships with men are not always for show—yet these relationships only bring her physical pleasure, lacking the passion she ultimately craves for. After losing her virginity to a male, Adèle looks dissatisfied, upset, and disturbed after she gets home, not understanding why she feels this way. Like many teenagers her age, Adèle has yet to fully accept/realize her own sexuality; becoming tormented by her feelings and confused why she’s different (she even confides with her gay friend that there’s no satisfaction when she has sex with men, yet can’t understand why).
High school certainly doesn't help with this; her friends keep asking her how her relationship with men are going, placing pressure on her to “stay cool” and to get a boyfriend. While Warmest Colors’ setting (the novel is set in 1990s France) is a place where acceptance of homosexuality has been largely progressive, even there, prejudices are plenty around to make life rough and brutal—particularly in high school. Even when Adèle begins to accept her sexual orientation, she only tests the waters. During one scene a friend of Adèle’s spurs a talk where she calls our protagonist cute, leading to a kissing scene between them that Adèle takes as her friend being interested. Adèle tries later to kiss her friend, who this time backs off and calls the earlier event a “spur of the moment” thing and that she “didn't think Adèle would become addicted to”. The entire scene is difficult to watch, as we feel each and every bit of pain Adèle feels as her friend flat out rejects the kiss meaning anything (was it really a spur of the moment thing or is Adèle’s friend covering up her actions to simply fit in? Such question remains ambiguous to the audience).
This moment, however, is nothing compared the heart-wrenching, extremely hard to watch scene where Adèle is accused of being a lesbian by her high school friends. After being seen walking around with Emma, Adèle’s friends begin a long, painful questioning process where they slowly push Adèle more and more into a corner about admitting she “is a dyke” and “likes eating pussy”. Perhaps under better circumstances, Adèle would be more willing to admit her sexuality, but under these harsh sounding accusations that have caught the attention of other student groups, Adèle’s fear and panic springs on defensively (which the audience can fully feel and understand). No matter how much she continues to deny, it becomes obvious that the girls have already decided she likes women (meaning she’s just digging a deeper hole). It gets worse, however, as one of her friends’ true prejudice shows—disgusted that in the past, Adèle had been at her sleepovers and that they’d even slept in the same bed before. She figures since Adèle likes women it must mean that Adèle tricked her and had wanted her body, despite Adèle never showing any attraction for her (the claims become so harsh that Adèle defensively attacks her).
The scene is certainly one of the most powerful scenes in the entire film (though there is a scene later on that comes close to tying). What I truly love about this and the abovementioned scenes is that there are no movie extremes being played here—no traditional clichés you’d possibly see in a lesser Lifetime movie about the same subject. The scenes are given a high dose of realism—stuff you’d expect to see in real life because they DO happen in real life. I've seen situations like these in my own life, where a fellow student or friend finally comes out after years of fearing what others will think, or the awful reactions of those who treat it badly. And Blue is the Warmest Color allows the audience to FEEL the full effect of what it would be like (or is like) to be in Adèle’s shoes. They are powerfully realistic scenes, played off perfectly by their respective actresses/actors (particularly from Adèle and Léa).
As powerful as the plot and cast are, it’s some of the aesthetic choices and cinematography that I found to be the weaker links of Warmest Color. The film seems to be obsessed with its use of shaky cam, a technique that’s, unfortunately, becoming more frequently used in films that need not have it. While some scenes (like the above mentioned one) effectively use it to come across powerfully and help express the emotion, other uses come across as pointless and annoying (how the heck does shaky cam help in any way to express a scene where students read in French literature class?) The film also has a love for zooming in really close to the characters faces, that when combined with its shaky cam, can result in some powerful scenes becoming slightly obnoxious and nauseating.
Now, to be fair, there is some well-done cinematography here and there; such as the beautiful autumn scenes where Emma and Adèle sit beneath richly colored trees with sunlight gently gliding over them. Warmest Color also has a strategy of always leaving the audience a bit unsure of where we are in the timeline—playing a scene around three years later as if it was the next day. These scenes kept me on edge as to what exactly was happening and how long one scene was from the next. The film would eventually reveal the missing link between scenes, ensuring the style’s creativity without it getting confusing or irritating to watch.
I can’t finish this review, however, without mentioning one the film’s most talked about aspects: the sex scenes. Believe me when I say that Blue is the Warmest Color’s not rated NC-17 for nothing, as the sex scenes displayed here are quite explicit and lengthy…a bit TOO lengthy if you ask me. I mean, I understand that the film's director (Abdellatif Kechiche) may want to show just how passionate lovemaking can be between two women—compared to the much shorter heterosexual sex scene between Adèle and the boy—but the scenes go on way past the point of understanding, holding nothing back for the imagination. The first time Adèle and Emma make love it goes way over five minutes, possibly closer to ten. If you combined all the explicit sex scenes it would probably end up around fifteen to twenty minutes long (longer than some porn and more graphic than most soft-core porn). It’s alright to express sex this visually in film if for a reasonable purpose, but Blue is the Warmest Color might just be crossing the line.
Perhaps it could be debated that director Abdellatif Kechiche deserves less credit than the graphic novel itself—as its main element of attraction (the plot) is taken mostly from the source material up to a certain point, while its least attractive element (the aesthetic choices) were the film’s own doing. However, it’s the main actresses and supporting cast that pull off the great scenes in the film, so perhaps credit should mostly belong to them and the graphic novel. Despite the issues it brings, Blue is the Warmest Color’s strengths far outweigh them, bringing forth a wonderfully realistic story full of rich, vibrant characters and powerfully emotional scenes that are sure to leave an impact.
