Bring on the Blue

There was a period in my life when I just couldn’t get enough of French films. There was a lot of smoking and little speaking and I soaked in the sparseness. French films don’t mind showing people just thinking or brooding or – yes – that ubiquitous smoking. (Note: I only enjoy movie smoking, where no one has to get cancer or hack up a lung.)

I haven’t watched as many of late. Though I feel that’s a symptom of an overall improvement in television offering more than a decline in my Francophile tendencies. OK, fine, I also like to brood less now. I blame “Twilight,” ruining vampires and brooding for us all.

But, no matter what, this year I will see at least one French film. And that film will be “Blue Is the Warmest Color.” You know – the coming-of-age lesbian love story that was a sensation at Cannes only to be followed by a sensational clash between the actresses and director about the grueling shoot and then a sensational breakdown by the director who is now questioning whether the film should be released at all. No, really. All of this has happened.

Yet still, I’m a sucker for a good love story, especially a lesbian love story. And even though – and this is not a spoiler, just a guess – this sounds like one of those love stories that can’t end well for all parties involved (it is a French film after all, and words like “searing” and “shattering” keep getting used by critics to describe it) I simply cannot wait. I’m just a sucker for the brooding, I guess. C'est la vie.

A different kinds of Blue

For the first time ever a lesbian drama won the top prize at the Cannes Film Festival. Over the weekend the three-hour French coming-of-age film “La Vie d’Adèle” (“Blue Is the Warmest Color” for English audiences) won the Palme D’Or, a prize that was preceded by gushing reviews from critics and frequent breathless mention of its 10- to 15-minute graphic sex scene that made the audience stand up and applaud when it was over. Reviewers of the scene in question have, generally speaking, done the literary equivalent of rent a neon sign that read “HOT LESIAN SEX” and turned it on for all to see. My friend Heather had a nice round-up of reviews of Le Scene over at AE yesterday.

To sum them up:
“writhing, moaning erotic hunger,” “fingering, licking, and, as a friend called it, ‘impressive scissoring,’” “undeniably titillating” and “red hot.”

Now, I am no prude. As yesterday’s post might suggest, my sense of humor might run more blue than some and believe you me I like a hot lesbian sex scene as much as the next gay lady. So it’s not the scene so much that has me perplexed, but the focus on the scene. I guess it’s inevitable. Sex sells everything from cars to deodorant, and it’s been a part of the movies since the first images flickered across a screen. So if the sex gets some folks in to see quality drama, maybe it’s worth it. I just wish one didn’t have to be such a selling point to get us to enjoy the other.

Though, to be fair to critics, they didn’t only wag their tongues at the sexysexytimes. Most also praised rich emotional portrayals and dense character journeys in the film (which was based on a graphic novel). And raves have also been handed out to its stars, Adèle Exarchopoulos and Léa Seydoux, who play 15-year-old Adèle and blue-haired art student Emma – two young women who meet and begin an intense relationship. So that alone has me excited for the film to hit American theaters. Though, this being a French movie, I’m ready for inevitable crushing heartbreak. I love you, my French friends, but your movies tend to depress the living crap out of me – but in a good way. Mostly. Just thinking about “The Dreamlife of Angels” makes me eat a whole box of chocolates.

In conclusion: Rich Lesbian Drama + Hot Lesbian Sex = A Whole Lot of People Are Going to Be Going to Reading Subtitles Soon.