You know that feeling when a movie just grabs your soul, shakes it around, and leaves you crying in the dark with a half-empty wine glass? Yeah, that’s Blue Is the Warmest Colour (or La Vie d’Adèle if you’re fancy) for pretty much every lesbian who has ever watched it.
I must have seen this film at least seven times since it dropped in 2013, and every single rewatch hits harder than the last. Directed by Abdellatif Kechiche and starring the ridiculously talented Adèle Exarchopoulos and Léa Seydoux, this three-hour French masterpiece is still, in my very gay opinion, the most honest portrayal of lesbian love, lust, heartbreak, and growing up that cinema has ever given us.
Let’s be real: when it first came out, everyone was talking about “those sex scenes.” Yes, the lesbian sex scenes are long, explicit, and unapologetic (seven minutes, people… seven!). But if you think this movie is just porn for artsy straight people, you missed the entire point. Those scenes aren’t there to shock; they’re there because that’s exactly how overwhelming and all-consuming first queer love feels when you’re young and finally touching another woman for the first time. The hunger, the clumsiness, the absolute obsession; Kechiche didn’t hold back because lesbian desire shouldn’t be sanitized for the male gaze or anyone else.
Adèle (the character) is every baby gay who ever walked into high school not understanding why she couldn’t stop staring at that girl with the blue hair. Emma, with her short dyed hair, art-school confidence, and that smirk… come on, she’s basically the blueprint for every cool lesbian we’ve all fallen for at least once. The age gap, the class difference, the way Emma opens up Adèle’s entire world; it’s messy, it’s real, and it hurts so good.
What kills me every time is how the film doesn’t end with a neat little bow. There’s no fairytale wedding, no “we made it” moment. Just like in actual lesbian relationships (and life), sometimes love isn’t enough. Sometimes people grow in different directions. That final scene in the gallery where they look at each other across the room… I still can’t watch it without ugly-crying. It’s the purest depiction of “I’ll always love you, but we can’t be together” I’ve ever seen on screen.
And can we talk about the performances? Adèle Exarchopoulos was literally 18 when they shot this. Eighteen! The way she eats spaghetti, the snot crying, the raw confusion of first discovering you’re into girls; it’s like someone filmed my actual teenage years. Léa Seydoux brings this quiet intensity that makes you understand why Adèle falls so completely. Together, their chemistry is insane. You believe every touch, every fight, every orgasm.
Yes, there was drama behind the scenes. Both actresses said the shooting conditions were brutal and the director was intense (to put it mildly). As a lesbian viewer, that context makes me complicated about the film sometimes. But I can separate the art from the artist here; this movie gave so many of us a mirror we desperately needed. Before Carol, before Portrait of a Lady on Fire, there was Blue. It said, loud and clear: lesbian love stories can be epic, sexual, devastating, and take up three whole hours of screen time.
If you’re a lesbian who somehow hasn’t seen it yet (first of all, how?), do yourself a favor. Grab some tissues, maybe a girlfriend (or an ex you’re still not over), and press play. And if you have seen it… go rewatch it right now. I promise the heartbreak still tastes just as sweet.
Blue Is the Warmest Colour isn’t just a movie. For a lot of us, it’s a rite of passage.
What did this film mean to you as a lesbian? Drop your thoughts in the comments; I read every single one.
Post a Comment