More than sex to lesbian love story Blue is the Warmest Colour

IT'S probably fair to say Blue is the Warmest Colour has become the most controversial film of the past year.

At first blush

IT'S probably fair to say Blue is the Warmest Colour has become the most controversial film of the past year. The buzz began last May when this French production screened in competition in Cannes: here was a three-hour film, based on a graphic novel, about a lesbian relationship, directed by a man born in North Africa and containing several very explicit sex scenes, one of which (I'm told; I didn't time it) lasted 10 minutes.

From the start the international critics were sharply divided, though it won the FIPRESCI (International Film Critics) Award; most appeared extremely impressed, but there was a vocal minority, led by Manohla Dargis of The New York Times, who attacked the director for his alleged "uninterest in or unawareness of the history of feminist debate on the representation of women's bodies".

At the closing night ceremony the president of the international jury, Steven Spielberg (no less), awarded the film the coveted Palme d'Or. Since then it has played at other festivals (in London some in the audience reportedly laughed at the sex scenes) and has opened commercially in several countries (though it was banned in the US state of Idaho), while the French film industry added to its accolades with the Prix Louis Delluc, an annual award given by a jury of 20 French film critics.

I came to the film with few expectations, not having very much appreciated the previous work of director Abdellatif Kechiche, who was born in Tunis in 1960 but who has worked professionally in France for many years. His 2003 drama, L'Esquive (which was presented at some Australian film festivals), was about high-school students coping with their sexuality; in 2007 he made La graine et le moulet (The Secret of the Grain), set among members of the North African community in the seaport of Sete, and dealing with the establishment of a restaurant on an abandoned ship; and his last film prior to Blue was 2010's Venus noire (Black Venus), the true story of an obese African woman brought to Europe in the 19th century and put on display as a laughing stock. The distinguishing factor of all these films was their excessive length: 123 minutes, 154 minutes and 166 minutes respectively. No doubt the director would argue he needed time to let his realistic portrayals of humanity unfold, but as the films got longer they became less sustainable. So the prospect, last May, of Kechiche's longest film to date was, for me, nothing to get excited about.

And it's true the director seems to possess no normal concept of editing, of compressing, of telling stories with economy. Apparently he shoots the films in much the same way, not ordering "Cut!", but allowing the camera to continue turning in the hope something will emerge from the improvisational results. And in Blue is the Warmest Colour he finally does make this very loose approach to cinema work, and work wonderfully well.

Julie Maroh published her graphic novel, Bleu est une couleur chaude, in 2010, but the French title of Kechiche's film version, in suggesting these "chapters" of the life of Adele may be only the start of the protagonist's life story, is indicative of the director's ideas of expanding on the basic material. We first meet Adele, played with incredible skill and emotion by newcomer Adele Exarchopoulos, when she's 15 years old and still at school in her home town, Lille, in the north of France. She's studying La vie de Marianne, an uncompleted 18th-century novel by Pierre de Marivaux which is, significantly, written by a male author in the first person and describes the innermost thoughts of its female protagonist. Adele is involved in a tentative relationship with Thomas (Jeremie Laheurte), a boy her own age, but sex with him proves difficult and unsatisfactory. This might be partly because, while walking on a busy street, her eye has been caught by Emma (Lea Seydoux), an older girl with dyed blue hair. Before long Adele is gently seduced by Emma, an encounter that changes her life and brings about her rapid maturation as a woman.

Kechiche's willingness to allow improvised scenes to continue long after another director would have moved on can be infuriating but thanks in no small part to the really terrific performances of the two young actresses, the relationship between Adele and Emma, as it slowly and intimately proceeds, becomes powerful cinema.

It comes as no surprise Kechiche has been attacked for the exceptionally candid and graphic way the love scenes have been shot, but he has defended himself, saying he believes it's dangerous to insist only a woman can make a film about women (or, for that matter, that only an Arab can make a film about Arabs). And it's true that some excellent representations of lesbianism on screen have been directed by men, for example Claude Chabrol (Les Biches, 1968), Karoly Makk (Another Way, 1982), Robert Towne (Personal Best, 1982) and John Sayles (Lianna, 1983), as well as the Wachowski siblings' Bound (1996). But the sex scenes in Blue are not only graphic; with the director's typical reluctance to edit, they're also long. From the perspective of a male heterosexual viewer, they're very beautiful - and also confronting. Obviously lesbian viewers will have a different viewpoint, and it's worth noting the American gay arts magazine Posture invited lesbians to comment on the film and they were largely unimpressed.

If the film were just a series of sex scenes it would, of course, be problematic, but it's much, much more than that. Through the eyes of Adele we experience the breathless excitement of first love and first physical contact, but then, inevitably, all the other experiences that make life the way it is - the quarrels, the disappointments, the infidelities, the break-ups, the difficult, painful re-connections. All of these are beautifully documented.

There's a great scene early on where Adele's schoolmates attack her for her sexual inclinations. I presume these are all young, non-professional actors, and they're frighteningly convincing.

Another of the finest scenes in the film comes near the end when the couple meets in a cafe. In this sequence Exarchopoulos gives an astonishingly mature performance, making it hard to believe this is a young actor in her first film. Less successful are scenes with Emma's arty friends (she is an artist, while Adele eventually becomes a teacher) and a sequence involving Emma's parents, who are depicted as rather smug, middle-class characters.

When Spielberg announced the film had won the Palme d'Or on the closing night of Cannes last year, two things made the announcement unusual. These festival jury decisions are usually, as I know from first-hand experience, deeply compromised and not everyone is happy; but the other members of Spielberg's jury looked very comfortable and contented. Not only that, but Spielberg pointedly invited not only the director - the usual procedure - up to the stage but Exarchopoulos and Seydoux as well. This was unprecedented, and a signal the jury believed the success of the film was due mainly to the actors, something few directors would probably acknowledge.

Later, the women complained to the media about Kechiche's working methods. They said the filming was a "horrible" experience and that the director "shouted at them". It would not be the first time an authoritative director has bullied great performances out of cast members.

In the end, then, Blue is an unusually intimate and ultimately moving love story that spans a number of years as a young woman grows up before our eyes.

Though open to criticism on a number of levels, and containing a few imperfections, it's a remarkable achievement.

Blue is the Warmest Colour (La vie d'Adele Chapitres 1 et 2) (classification tbc)

4.5 stars

Limited release from Thursday