Blue is the Warmest Color Revisited: Is it Still Great? Are the Sex Scenes Still too Long? (Film Analysis)

Blue is the Warmest Color is certainly one of my more memorable trips to the movie theater.

Note: This is my second review of Blue is the Warmest Color.  Here's my original review from 2013, written back when the film first released.

So, its November of 2013, and I'm going for the first time to see both a French, subtitled film in theaters and an NC-17 film in theaters.  Believe it or not, the local Regals and AMCs were not showing a nearly three-hour, NC-17, foreign language film.  At the time, not even the local indie theaters were showing it, leaving me the closest theater to be in Philadelphia—showing when traffic was heavy.  After a gruelingly slow drive into the city, I finally reached my destination.  Of course, being Philly, the nearest parking lot cost around double the price of the movie ticket.  The theater itself was quite vibrant and classy—with an escalator leading to the bottom floor screenings—but I didn't get much time to appreciate its aesthetic work as I had just barely made it in time before the film began.

It was only during the film, however, where the trip truly became an unforgettable experience, one I hope to never repeat again.  If you’ve seen or at least know of Blue is the Warmest Color, then you’re most likely aware of its infamous, explicit, and lengthy sex scenes.  It may come as little surprise then, to find out that watching borderline-pornographic scenes, silently, within a group of mostly middle-aged to elderly people, is really uncomfortable.  The worst part is how long some of these scenes can last, and you’re just stuck there sitting in-between complete strangers as two women scissor the living hell out each other’s vaginal parts.  It’s (presumably) like being in an adult movie theater, except you really are there for the plot and wish the film would hurry back to it.  Oh, did I mention the film has no soundtrack?  Just a bunch of people watching sex in complete silence save for the moans and groans of the film’s lovers.  It was a really weird experience that I would prefer to avoid in future trips to the theater.  Yet despite the frustrations and uncomfortableness, I don’t regret the trip as I ended up seeing a great film in the end.

My sentiments towards Blue is the Warmest Color remain largely the same since my initial viewing.  Blue is the Warmest Color—adapted from a French graphic novel of the same name—is a great coming-of-age film about a young woman named Adèle (Adèle Exarchopoulos) figuring out her identity in life.  Adèle primarily does so through a sexual, romantic relationship with an older woman named Emma (Léa Seydoux).  My gripes with the film can be narrowed down to three areas.  Scenes can drag on past their welcome and be heavyhanded with their symbolism (made worse by the scenes’s lengthiness).  Some scene trimming would have given the overall story a more lively, fluent pacing (as it stands, the film feels more like an extended edition).  The film's shaky cam is still an issue, being needlessly used during stationary talking scenes.  Why director Abdellatif Kechiche and/or cinematographer Sofian El Fani felt it necessary to have the camera trembling around during scenes where students calmly read poetry is beyond me.  That said, the shaky cam can work effectively during scenes of drama and passion (I find it amusing to note that I mistakenly wrote shaky cam in my notes as “sexy cam”).

Then there are the sex scenes.  It’s funny—the MPAA is notorious for giving LGBT films unfair ratings due to “sexual content”, even when said content is notably tame (see G.B.F. for the most appalling example of the MPAA’s bias).  In Blue is the Warmest Color’s case, however, the MPAA were spot on with their NC-17 rating, arguably even being lenient.  While I do not regret seeing the film in theaters, viewing it on Netflix at my home not surrounded by strangers definitely made for a far less awkward experience.  In my original review, I stated how the first time Adèle and Emma make love goes way over five minutes (possibly closer to ten) and that if you combined all the explicit sex scenes it would probably end up being around fifteen to twenty minutes.  Now, these were only guesses on my part—I didn’t know the exact timeframe of each sex scene and I hadn’t been timing them to check.  Watching at home, however, is another story.  I can pause the film, I can see the exact time that has passed between scenes, I can time the sex scenes.  And yes, for the sake of curiosity and revelation, I did just that.

There are five explicit sex scenes in the film.  The first is a dream sequence where Adèle fantasizes about Emma.  Maybe it shouldn’t count since it isn’t “real”, but there is real nudity and sex onscreen and it lasts around a minute and forty-five seconds, so I’m counting it.  The next scene is between Adèle and her boyfriend Thomas (Jérémie Laheurte)—it’s the only explicit guy-girl sex (there’s a visibly erect dingdong at one point) and it lasts a little over two minutes.  The last three scenes are between Adèle and Emma.  The first goes for over six flipping minutes (meaning my original guess wasn’t far off), the second around one minute, and the last around two minutes.  Overall, there are nearly thirteen minutes of explicit sex throughout the film—not as much as I initially thought, but still a solid amount.  Notably, the amount of sex between Adèle and Emma is around nine minutes (close to eleven counting the dream sequence), overshadowing the mere two minutes of sex between Adèle and Thomas.  This is intentional, emphasizing the intense passion Adèle has with Emma, and the lack of such when with Thomas.  Nonetheless, I maintain the over six-minute sex scene could have had its time cut in half (at the very least) and still upheld the desired message (especially with two additional scenes to come).

A significant feature I somewhat glanced over in my initial review is the effective chemistry between its lead actresses and their characters’s relationship.  It’s a bit odd I did so, considering such relationship is the film’s central focus, in addition to the foundation of Adèle’s character growth.  The chemistry between Adèle and Emma is almost immediate, made even more striking by the stiff dynamic between Adèle and Thomas (which the film gives considerable time to showcase).  Before their interactions, Blue is the Warmest Color makes it crystal clear—both through facial expressions and direct dialogue—that Adèle is lost in life.  The high school teen is forcing herself to be someone she’s not—faking it to fit in with the social norms.  The first instance Adèle truly appears happy is during a street protest against privatization and job cuts (among other things).  Its the first time viewers see Adèle alive and energetic—being part of a group she relates to and feels comfortable in—and foreshadows her later involvement in a pride parade with Emma where she can be her true self without fear.

The opposite occurs when Adèle hangs out with her high school female friends.  Even before several of them viciously accuse and ostracize her in a powerfully heart-wrenching scene, Adèle’s colleagues are shown to be real stuck-up assholes—oblivious and/or uncaring to their friend’s inner-turmoils (though as seen later, awareness only makes them worse).  Adèle’s redheaded colleague, who acts as the group’s leader, is bossy and assertive about everything—believing her assumptions to always be correct such as Adèle totally being into Thomas and that the two had sex after their first date (both assumptions being wrong).  Such “friends” only make things harder for the introverted Adele—shy and insecure about everything, especially her sexuality.  It gets worse once Adèle is forcefully outed and made to feel ashamed by these girls, creating further cracks in her already fragile nature.

Fortunately, Adèle does have people who care for her.  For starters, Adèle has her openly gay friend Valentin (Sandor Funtek), who provides a shoulder for her to cry on in times of need.  Interestingly, Valentin is never shown receiving flack from the other high school boys about being openly gay and is actually shown getting along well with them (an unusual case in film where the women are shown being more homophobic than the men).  Then there’s Emma, who is very much the opposite of Adèle (take it away MC Kat!)—being outgoing, feisty and imposing (the latter self-proclaimed).  She gives off this Jim Stark Rebel Without a Cause impression—leaning on a pole outside Adèle’s school, cigarette in hand, waiting for her girl to come out (this might actually be an intentional homage).  Unlike Jim, however, Emma knows who she is and where she wants to go in life.  She's well-cultured in philosophy, arts, and socialization—coming from an artsy, seemingly wealthy family.  Yet despite her larger-than-life personality and background, Emma also has a warm heart (a heart that can, in fact, be broken as seen later), and it’s this outgoing, yet warm personality that helps bring Adèle out of her cracked shell.

The natural chemistry between Exarchopoulos and Seydoux makes their characters an easy couple to become attached to.  There’s a great scene where Emma discusses how the philosophy of Jean-Paul Sartre impacted her life, only for Adèle to make a humorous comparison between Sartre and Bob Marley’s song Get Up Stand Up—causing both Emma and myself to laugh at the unexpected response.  Seydoux does a fantastic job of conveying Emma’s thoughts through facial expressions alone—studying Adèle’s every action, gradually figuring out where the younger female stands.  As the women go to depart in the above scene, there’s an intense, intimate moment where the two stare into each other’s eyes without speaking.  Adèle instinctively begins looking everywhere else but Emma’s eyes.  Emma, reading the moment correctly, ends their date with a light kiss on Adèle’s cheek, a warm smile, and a cheerful wink.  Emma realizes a direct kiss may have been too much for the apprehensive Adèle and decides to take things gradually with the younger, more fragile teen.  It’s readily apparent, however, that Emma is making a positive impact on Adèle’s psyche—with Adèle eventually growing confident enough to initiate a kiss between them during their next intense stare.

Yet now we come to the sad truth of Emma and Adèle’s relationship.  Blue is the Warmest Color—as its bittersweet title may allude to—is not a happily-ever-after romance.  Now often when the words “sad”, “gay” and “romance” are used together, it’s usually accompanied with “hatred”, “bigotry” and/or “death”.  This is certainly the case for the film’s source material, but, surprisingly, not the case for itself.  Emma and Adèle’s relationship is not dismantled from a homophobic world, but because their relationship was never sound to begin with.  Theirs was akin to a Romeo and Juliet relationship—built upon the foundation of intense passion.  Passion is a powerful motivator, but it alone cannot sustain a long-term relationship.  It is the passion and sexual thrills that keep Emma and Adèle together—their relationship built on this intense. yet fragile form of love.  Once the passion begins to die down, and their lives settle into a routine, the underlining weaknesses in their relationship begin to surface, ultimately breaking down in a grand fight scene that reveals just how feeble their relationship truly is.

Along with when Adèle is outed by her schoolmates, the big fight between Adèle and Emma is the most intense, heartbreaking scene in the film.  The scene begins with Emma confronting Adèle about sleeping with her fellow coworker.  The scene starts off eerily calm—the evidence is undeniable, yet Adèle continuously denies any such affair.  It’s here where things become heated, with all their relationship weaknesses becoming clear.  Adèle, for starters, has avoided discussing her relationship with her coworkers—including the colleague Adèle is cheating with, who has no idea Adèle is even in a relationship (she has him drop her off at another house).  Adèle may have grown as a person, but she’s still insecure about her true self—not just regarding her sexuality, but her overall character.  Earlier scenes allude to such deep-rooted insecurity, such as when Adèle becomes uncomfortable when Emma tries pushing her to publish her diary memoirs—additionally giving a backhanded insult towards Adèle's teaching profession as not reaching her full potential.  This and an earlier party scene, likewise, showcase the couple’s difference in desire.  Whereas Emma has an ambitious desire for fame and glamour—constantly working to achieve such goal—Adèle would prefer a quieter, more modest lifestyle.  Emma’s main goal is to make her mark on the world, while Adèle would rather just focus on the two of them.  Such differing goals and a lack of compromising between them is just another reason for their big fight’s inevitable occurrence.

The couple’s relationship was always doomed to fail, however, due to its biggest weakness: Emma herself.  Emma is a warm person, but she’s also an incredibly self-centered one.  She believes the world revolves around her—such view reinforced by a loving, yet dotting family and philosophers who preach about choosing your own life.  Unlike Adèle, Emma is seldom seen in conflict, and we’re given the impression she’s never (or, at least, rarely) experienced such in her youth.  Her background has given her great strength in confidence and a resolve to achieve, yet it has also shaped her greatest weaknesses in dealing with conflict and understanding others.  An earlier scene shows Emma scowling over being rejected by an art dealer, claiming he has a bias against lesbians.  While it's entirely possible Emma is right, nothing previously showcased of the art dealer supports her claim either.

When Adèle finally comes clean about the affair, Emma harshly lashes out despite Adèle’s protests of feeling lonely.  The scene is a fascinating contrast to a similar scene in The Kids Are All Right.  In the latter film, the one being cheated on shows hurt and sadness at the confession, yet also tries listening and even comprehending the cheater's reasonings.  Theirs is a relationship built on more than mere passion—it’s a relationship built on family, friendship, support, and understanding.  Even at their lowest point, their relationship does not crumble, and there’s genuine hope for rebuilding.   With Emma and Adele, it’s the opposite.

Emma's lack of handling conflict truly shows here, and it is an ugly sight.  Ignoring Adèle's pleading, Emma focuses solely on her own hurt—viciously calling Adèle all kinds of cruel obscenities “Whore! Slut!” immediately kicking her out of the house and going so far as to even strike Adèle as she begs for forgiveness.  The worst part is there’s an underlying sense that Emma is also cheating on Adèle—if not sexually, then romantically.  In a previous scene, Adèle and the audience (with the unnecessary, additional help of a silent film in the background blatantly being used as an allegory) notice Emma getting close to another woman at a party.  Emma proceeds to spend additional time with the woman at her house late into the nights—her reasoning to Adèle being them working on art projects.  While there’s no concrete evidence to support such a theoretical affair, it is worth mentioning Emma was already in a two-year relationship while courting Adèle.  Emma has cheated before in long-term relationships and did so with little show of concern or guilt (it’s also worth noting Emma does get with the other woman after she and Adèle break up).  Yet Emma fails to see the hypocrisy (especially if she is, indeed, cheating at the same time) in condemning Adèle for an affair—choosing to focus only on her own pain and tossing her now ex-partner out.

With the passion gone, Emma and Adèle’s relationship crumbles under the weight of their numerous issues.  There’s a moment during the finale where Adèle tries reigniting the flame between them, but by that point, it’s too late—both having gone their separate paths in life.  It’s a bittersweet end to their relationship, however, as the ex-couple are shown making amends and remaining friendly with each other—Adèle noting “as long as things are clear between us”.  Emma even invites Adèle to her new art showing, where a nude picture of Adèle hangs—painted back when the passion was there.  This is a very different ending from the graphic novel, where a depressed Adèle dies from a pill overdose.  There are actually numerous differences between the novel and film, but that’s a story for a different blog post.  Here, in the film adaptation’s finale, Adèle is alive, with nothing indicating any pill overdosing in her future.  Though, in all fairness, the film doesn’t make clear what Adèle’s future will be like—ending on an ambiguous note of her walking away from Emma’s showing.  

I find the final scene to suggest one of growth, with Adèle finally moving on past her passionate time with Emma.  Adèle’s learned and grown a lot since her high school years and is finally ready to leave her nostalgic past behind and start the next chapter in her life.  It’s a bittersweet ending, but one of hope—ending its coming-of-age story on a satisfying note.  Blue is the Warmest Color is a moving story about identity, but even more so a rich, character-driven film about two complex characters with strengths and flaws.  The film has faults, but the complexity of its characters and the emotional journey its protagonist goes through overcome such issues and make it a great piece of cinema.  

Just make sure if you watch the film with others, they're people you're comfortable watching lengthy, explicit sex with.