Despite moments of intensity and an epic length, France’s “Blue Is the Warmest Color” is mostly a routine love story elevated by one of the year’s most magnetic performances.
As a 15-year-old schoolgirl named Adèle, who becomes sexually obsessed with a more hard-edged art student (Léa Seydoux) a decade or so older, Adèle Exarchopoulos never seems to be acting, and yet comes across as simultaneously vulnerable, eager, curious, innocent and thirsty for experience. Her work is the opposite of Cate Blanchett’s mannered, tic-laden, strenuously actress-y performance in “Blue Jasmine,” and, as such, it’s easily the most haunting work I’ve seen by an actress this year.
Seydoux, who comes across as brittle and seems to force her character’s jocularity and toughness, is far less compelling as the blue-haired Emma, whom Adèle spots near school one day and begins following around. Carrying on a sweet but lifeless romance with a male student, Adèle fixates on the girl, whom she finally meets by hanging around the local lesbian bar.
Writer-director Abdellatif Kechiche rarely misses an opportunity to be obvious: The coup de foudre of Adèle spotting Emma comes after a lengthy discussion of love at first sight in a high-school class. Another too-long scene illustrating that Adèle feels uncomfortable around Emma’s arty friends is followed by Adèle explaining that she feels uncomfortable around Emma’s arty friends. Later, there will be long and almost entirely pointless visits to Adèle’s nursery school teaching job. Kechiche can’t justify the film’s baggy length, hoping that sheer quantity of time spent will make us feel something of the exhaustion of a bumpy love affair.
“Blue,” which, like many other films of limited appeal, captured the top prize at the Cannes Film Festival, doesn’t quite pretend to be daring. Emma’s homosexuality is celebrated by her upscale mom and groovy stepdad, and while Adèle’s less-than-hipmiddle-class parents are clueless about what’s going on between their daughter and her new companion, their lack of understanding is played for a quick laugh and never brought up again.
Moreover, the dialogue between the two lovers is banal; verbally, at least, Adèle seems to connect more with two interested men (one at the beginning and another near the end). Emma makes it clear that she finds Adèle’s life’s work to be boringly proletarian, and it’s hard to see why Adèle finds her dismissive new partner so fascinating.
Still, the sex scenes between the two women, which are much more graphic and intimate than in any R-rated movie, are convincingly intense. What they aren’t is beautiful. With their bright lighting and long takes, they are as drably realized as documentary footage. If you’re looking for a film that captures the mysteries of sex, this isn’t it.