Last year’s controversial Palme d’Or winner ‘Blue is the Warmest Colour’ is finally hitting Australian cinemas. Known more for its lengthy graphic sex scenes between a lesbian couple and the fallout between the film’s two female stars Adèle Exarchopoulos and Léa Seydoux (‘Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol’) and their megalomaniac director Abdellatif Kechiche, the story’s subtle complexities depict the life span of a relationship with powerhouse performances which make it worthy of the highlight reel.
While all her friends talk about boys, boys and more boys, Adèle, a French high school student, feels at odds with her peers and is never quite sure why. When she finally lands a relationship with an older boy, things still don’t feel right, until walking down the street one day a blue-haired woman catches her eye. After running into her again by chance one night out on the town with a gay friend, Adèle and Emma strike up a friendship which leads Adèle down a path of self-discovery. Over time, Adèle grows as a woman, an adult and a partner, while facing the challenges of life and romance.
SWITCH: 'BLUE IS THE WARMEST COLOUR' TRAILER
‘Blue is the Warmest Colour’ is an incredibly raw, earnest and powerful film. At 179 minutes in duration, not much is left out (or to your imagination) as each intimate corner is explored in this unique, and yet not so unique, relationship. This isn’t just a coming-of-age story, or two people discovering how to be together - there’s a deep and vast palette of literature, philosophy, art, food and culture explored along with the forgotten art of good conversation. Exarchopoulos and Seydoux are utterly fearless, perhaps as a result of being pushed by Kechiche, causing the later friction and eventual estrangement. Still, no one can argue that he doesn’t strive for the best nor that he didn’t get it at each turn, earning all involved an avalanche of praise and awards.
‘Blue is the Warmest Colour’ is an incredibly raw, earnest and powerful film.
In truth, there are a few too many superficial elements to the film that are far more distracting then they should to be, but they’re there nonetheless, and it’s hard to focus on the emotional impact of the script and its fine performances when you’re too busy being gobsmacked that this girl has never been taught to chew with her mouth closed, never licked a knife or talked with a mouth full.
If you’re able to see past these niggling foibles, you’re rewarded with a piece of true, beautiful cinema.