Review of 'Blue is the Warmest Color'

The epic tale of forbidden young lovers is no new venture, but "Blue is the Warmest Color" adjusts the boy-meets-girl, boy-has-problem-getting-girl, boy-gets-girl routine by delivering a story that captures aspects of love that rarely make the screen. We meet Adèle (Adèle Exarchopoulos) and Emma (Léa Seydoux) as strangers, and watch them turn to lovers, only to become strangers again. The women bare themselves full--specifically Adèle, who we see eating pasta sloppily throughout the film, open-mouth chewing and all. What shocked me most about their post-breakup scene in a restaurant was not the public touching (and gasping--hello, I'll have what she's having) or heartbreaking revelations, but that Adèle didn't wipe her nose. No one called cut and no one got the woman a tissue. It was just there. Looking at me. Challenging me. I was so transfixed by the white booger rapids that I almost missed the dialogue. But perhaps the dialogue wasn't that important. Maybe, just maybe, that snot rocket represented Adèle's unobstructed realness, the shredding of the picture-perfect Hollywood image of a crying woman with her winged eyeliner perfectly intact, and her unapologetic ownership of self. Although the infamous, lengthy sex scenes don't quite meet the messy standards Adèle sets in her mealtimes and sad times, the moments of physical intimacy between the two are exploratory and raw. The impact of these scenes, however, fades dramatically, and by the end of the film, the only thought left in your mind will not be a mental screenshot of their naked bodies, but of Adèle's frighteningly exciting future. Or maybe both.

Kat Stubing