'Blue is the Warmest Color': A Recap + Reflection

I just saw Blue is the Warmest Color at my local movie theater after nearly six months of anticipation.  It won the Palme d'Or at the 2013 Cannes Film Festival and finally hit St. Louis theaters this weekend. Six months is a lot of time for expectations to build, but I don't think that's why this film ultimately disappointed me. This was intended as more of a reflection but quickly transformed into a recap + reflection, so be forewarned.

LOTS OF SPOILERS AHEAD.

Adèle (Adèle Exarcopoulos) is a junior in high school with a robust love of literature and food. She has cherub cheeks and full lips. She's always running to catch the bus and her hair always seems to be in her face. She catches the eye of Thomas, a senior, and she's egged on by her horrible group of friends to pursue him. After talking to him on the bus, it's clear they have nothing in common. He studies science and claims to have read only one book, start to finish, in his entire life. She, on the other hand, loves French literature and just finished a 600-page tome. Still, she agrees to go out with him because, why not? He's an attractive boy who likes her.

On the way to meet Thomas for their first date, Adèle catches her first glimpse of the blue-haired Emma (Léa Seydoux). Emma's with another woman, and Adèle is literally stopped in her tracks by the sight of them. I totally and completely identified with Adèle at that moment. If you're a straight person, you probably can't remember the first time you saw a man and woman kiss. (Hint: It was probably your parents.) If you're gay, you can probably tell me when and where you saw a gay kiss. I first saw two women kissing at a Rilo Kiley concert in 2004. Ha!

Back to the the film now. Thomas and Adèle are in a movie theater, and Thomas kisses her. Adèle's face says, "Hmm. This is happening. I heard it was supposed to be good? I guess I'll keep letting him do it."

At school the next day, her gaggle of horrible friends asks how it went. "Did you fuck?" "You smell like it." Adèle denies it, because it didn't happen. Yet. Fast-forward to her first time with Thomas. We see an erect penis, the first of several unnecessary cameos by genitalia. When it's over, Adèle looks unmoved. "Was it not good?" Thomas asks.

Adèle ends the relationship soon after.

Blue is Taking a While to Get Gay

Adèle is upset that she wasn't happy in that seemingly ideal relationship, but her attention soon turns to another classmate. While smoking at school -- because people do that in France -- one of her female friends casually tells Adèle that she's cute, that she's one of the prettiest girls in their grade. Then she kisses Adèle and walks away. WHOA. (And hot.)

Later, Adèle wants more. She follows the girl into the bathroom and tries to kiss her. The girl responds as graciously as she can in that situation. She says it was a one-time thing, that she was sorry and that she wouldn't tell their horrible group of friends about it.

Adèle is left crying, but now she has a mission -- one that every gay person embarks upon: FIND MORE GAY PEOPLE.

Luckily, she has one non-horrible friend to turn to: Valentin, a gay boy at her school. She asks him to take her to a gay club. It's loud and dark and dancey, and she doesn't seem to be loving it. But WAIT. She spots a group of lesbians outside. She nonchalantly leaves the bar and secretly follows them to a lesbian bar.

This lesbian bar is the lesbian bar of DREAMS. As Adèle walks past the bar, attractive couples are kissing left and right. Those who aren't kissing someone else are checking her out. Rawr. Adèle is uncomfortable, but saddles up to the bar with a beer. A very pretty femme woman starts to chat her up when voilà! Blue-haired Emma appears. We learn she's an art student. She chats with Adèle for a bit before her friends call her away. Before leaving, she asks not for Adèle's phone number but for the name of her high school(?). There seem to be easier ways to track someone down, but before we know it, Emma is there waiting for Adèle to get out of class.

Adèle is shocked and delighted to see Emma, but instead of saying goodbye to all her horrible friends, she ignores them even as they call out her name. Bad move, Adèle. Emma and Adèle chat and get to know each other. Emma reveals she has a girlfriend of two years and, since she's an artist, she does a quick sketch of Adèle. (It's not good, by the way. I wish the camera never showed us what it looked like.) Still, the act of sketching felt intimate. We see Emma looking closely at Adèle's face, and we see Adèle being looked at. The subject of Adèle's sexuality doesn't quite come up, but it's implied. Another great scene that I felt echoed true life! For a young person, labeling one's sexuality often isn't conducive to discovering it.

Back at school, Adèle's horrible friends call her out about leaving with the dykey blue-haired girl. They hatefully call her a lesbian, prompting Adèle to declare she isn't one.

Even so, Adèle goes with Emma to the park again. They talk some more. When they go to part ways, there is a pause. There is beautiful tension, the best in the entire movie. And then, Emma kisses her... on the cheek. DAMMIT.

Then, a third meeting at the park. They are lying on blankets. Adèle turns to Emma and finally kisses her. She laughs.

And then, BAM. SEX. (Not at the park, but in a bed.) Has this director heard of foreplay?

For the next seven minutes, I squinted in disbelief. Mouths and nipples and butts and (prosthetic) vaginas. I turned to my girlfriend at one point during the sex scene and asked, "Have you ever done that?" She said, "No."

Julie Maroh, the author of the graphic novel upon which the movie is based, publicly criticized the sex scene going as far as to say, "[m]issing on the set: lesbians." After finally seeing it, I'm inclined to agree. What I saw was ca-razy and, without a doubt, reminded me of porn. It was raw and aggressive and, though I believed in their mutual attraction, I didn't believe in their love.

Blue is the Crappiest Relationship

Blue is the Warmest Color needed to sell me on love at that point in the film, because from there, we're transported to several years in the future. Adèle and Emma are now full-fledged couple, presumably in love and living together. (Did they U-Haul? We're not told.) Adèle is a kindergarten teacher and Emma is working as a painter. Adèle is very much Emma's muse, and she often poses nude for her.

Emma is finding success in the art world and lands a show. To celebrate, Emma and Adèle throw a party at their house. We see Adèle cooking spaghetti (Adèle slurps down spaghetti over and over again in this film) and some savory pastries. She puts out champagne and is clearly concerned with every possible detail.

Adèle is an excellent host, if not a comfortable one. She doesn't jive that well with these art people. She doesn't know the work of Egon Schiele, for instance, though I didn't find her art naivete all that convincing. She can only name one modern artist (Picasso), yet she routinely devours sophisticated literature (Pierre de Marivaux's La Vie de Marianne)? I think notWhen everyone finally goes home, she washes a staggering mountain of dishes. (I made a mental note during this scene to thank god for my dishwasher.)

At night, when Adèle climbs into bed -- naked, of course -- next to an also naked Emma, they recap the night's events, the people, the conversations. This is especially necessary since Emma spent ZERO time with Adèle at the party. They return to one conversation in particular, and Emma prods Adèle to try writing. Though Adèle doesn't dislike teaching, Emma wants her to try something that makes her happy. Adèle tells Emma to lay off, that she doesn't want to write and that it's Emma -- not her job -- who makes her happy. It's a small spat with big implications. Adèle then tries to initiate sex ("I want you"), but Emma makes an excuse ("I'm on my period"), the validity of which is very questionable.

There may have been an hour remaining at this point, but the movie essentially ended here for me. When they eventually break up, I'm unmoved. I shed no tears. (That's huge, considering I once started bawling while telling someone how Gran Torino ends.)

I never felt invested in Emma and Adèle's relationship, although I was very invested in Adèle. I felt for her when, months after the breakup, she cries over loneliness. I felt for her when she meets Emma in a cafe and tries to get back together with her. I wanted to be there in the moment with Adèle as she cried and cried over Emma and the final realization that they were done forever, but my empathy was tested to the limit by the copious amount of snot pouring out of Adèle's nose. It was a Blair Witch Project callback of sorts. Ultimately, I just wanted her to wipe her damn nose. After several agonizing minutes, she did. This was the real climax and resolution.

Blue is the Longest Color

Blue is the Warmest Color was way too long. I was disappointed in the sex scene. I was disappointed in the portrayal of the relationship. But if this is a movie meant to focus solely on Adèle and her journey, then it was a success.

I had read on Twitter and Facebook that Blue is the Warmest Color had a "sad" ending. "Sad" feels like an exaggeration to me. This film told the story of a young woman realizing her sexuality through a passionate first relationship and experiencing that relationship's end. The first one is the hardest. And after that, life eventually goes on. And so, I want to believe that when Adèle left that gallery and turned that corner, she began her life as a single young lesbian.

 

The Mundane and the Magical

Oops. More than two months have passed since I published my last post. I hesitate to characterize those months as "interesting." I've been mostly at home, cooking meals, watching Netflix and applying to jobs. But, there've been some brights spots.

Back in September, I visited New Hampshire for the first time to attend the my friend Laura's beautiful Sandy Island wedding. (I wrote about Laura's departure from DC -- and my subsequent devastation -- back in 2011.) I wasn't brave enough to swim in the cold waters of Lake Winnipesaukee, so I stuck to taking pictures.

 

I reunited with best friends, all of whom I met at Georgetown eight years ago and many who have now scattered to various parts of the country.

Last but not least, I snuck in a little family time.

Nothing quite matches the joy of gathering with friends and family. And nothing quite punches you in the gut like that gathering's end.

Back in St. Louis

Now, I'm living the life of a retiree, minus the life savings. I work sporadically, think too much about home decor and largely plan my schedule around my dog Spencer and his "needs." He needed an organic hemp collar since his nylon one gave him a neck rash. He needed a seat belt leash, because his enthusiasm for car rides is unnervingly boundless. And he needs to get in a good run at least once a day. On rainy days, this annoys me. But, it's ultimately good for him and for me and my mental health.

Most often, we play catch in the patch of grass and weeds across the way. Sometimes we attempt to go running. Spencer is most inspired, though, by Forest Park, particularly the soccer fields which -- at 11AM on a weekday -- are ideal for going nuts. He speeds and sprints, cutting left and right, occasionally joining a running group. He doesn't always come back immediately, but he always comes back.

On weekends, we try to step up our game with a doggie play date or a trip somewhere special. Last month we went to Laumeier Sculpture Park, a magical 105-acre park outside of St. Louis. If Missouri has one thing, it's space and I've been delighted since moving here to discover all the spaces here dedicated to art and weird stuff. There's a giant eyeball, a row of 55 steel marine buoys and a 65-foot red sculpture (seen right) made from salvaged steel oil tanks. Even Alex, not one to seek out art on her own volition, was wowed.

Me, Myself and I (and Spencer)

Working the night shift really prepared me for the isolation of moving to a new city where I hardly know anyone. I haven't met any friends yet, at least not the kind I can text or email to hang out. I joined a few MeetUp groups and sought out some local Pop Culture Happy Hour fans, but it's still coming along. I feel like I'm constantly selling myself -- to potential employers, to potential friends -- and exposing myself to repeated rejection. I will do whatever it takes to have both of these things, but that doesn't mean it's not exhausting.

In the absence of friends, I look to Spencer and my camera. Both are excuses to get out of the house and explore. A few weeks ago, I took some pictures of all the decaying properties I noticed near my apartment. I live in Central West End, largely thought of as one of St. Louis' "most successful" neighborhoods, but it still shows signs of the city's slowly recovering population shrinkage. The northern part of the neighborhood has a lot of unused and boarded up properties, including this basketball court.

I am by no means a good photographer -- I don't have professional editing software and therefore don't shoot in RAW--  but I'm learning. Photography has been an amazing distraction to focus on while the rest of life works itself out. I like the trial and error of it. I like that I can do it alone. And I like that there's infinite ways to improve over a lifetime. The St. Louis Photographers MeetUp group is absolutely incredible. I joined hoping to learn a thing or two and maybe make a few friends. Considering the majority of the group is over 50, the friend thing probably won't work out. But, I'm learning more about photography than I have since first getting my D-SLR, and I feel inspired to get out there and take more shots.

Speaking of which, Alex loves being photographed.

She may not be my most willing subject, but she is my most available. Here she's studying for a test while I play with my speedlight.

Alex puts up with a lot, and I know it. She let me rush into getting a dog, whose poop she picks up as often or more often than I do. She is the victim of my bedtime bully alter-ego, who steals blankets and pummels her with a flailing limb. And, most importantly, she is usually the only human I to talk to every day. I'm the first to admit that's a hefty weight to deal with. I try to make it up to her by streamlining her life as much as I can--  cooking, cleaning, laundry, the little things.

And it IS the little things that make me happy. When Alex likes something I cook, a nice walk, a song discovery, a good phone call or Gchat sesshion. Cliché, but what else is there? (Money, shhh.) Life is amazing, but it's also a slog. At times, I feel like I just graduated from college again, sweaty-palmed and desperate for a chance.

Hopefully I'll have good news regarding friends and a job in the near future. In the meantime, thank god for Alex. Thank god for Spencer. And thank god for old friends (far away as they may be), sisters, cooking, art, books, music, television, parks and bike rides. Without these, I might go crazy. For now, I'm staying sane.