Weekly Review -- The soul's melancholy quest

Blue is the Warmest Color (2013) -- The intersecting journey of identity and desire is rarely explored in cinema through the lens of abandon. Abdellatif Kechiche's Blue is the Warmest Color, based on Julie Maroh's graphic novel, takes a stand on self-discovery while meditating on the significance of sexuality and the Other in contemporary society. Not without its problems, the film still succeeds in presenting the idea of soulmates through a story about first love.  

**THIS REVIEW CONTAINS HUGE SPOILERS**

Adèle (Adèle Exarchopoulos) is confused in the framework of her own life. She has her future mapped out, she is a good student and has a circle of friends and a boyfriend... but something is missing. She wants to yearn, she wants to love from the inside out, she wants to feel that magical something when you just KNOW. One day, Adèle passes by a blue-haired woman on the street and is overwhelmed by instant attraction. Later on, she meets the woman (Léa Seydoux) at a gay bar, finding out that her name is Emma and that she is an art student. It does not take long for their friendship to turn into a deep relationship, but life pushes and pulls Adèle in different directions... 

One of the best aspects is the connection between the lead actors. The chemistry between Exarchopoulos and Seydoux builds gradually and steadily, almost becoming a character unto itself. We can understand how Adèle feels. We can see her routine, one that has come dangerously close to a monotonous spin cycle. She is empty and stifled, going about her life in perfect circles. Emma brings color into her existence in various ways, opening up Adèle's world as well as opening Adèle up to the world. Their relationship feels honest and lived-in, with the first sexual encounter flooding the viewer like an explosion of the senses. Kudos to the two actors for delving into their humanity and sensuality in order to bring forth two memorable and soulful portrayals. 

A unique part of the narrative is Adèle's complex life of fantasies and self-pleasure, which adds another dimension to the story. The evolution of female sexual identity has never been a popular topic in cinema, with these themes being tackled in very few films, such as High Art and Black Swan. The fact that Kechiche's entire film focuses on one female character's perspective and follows her exclusively, creating the feel of biography through camerawork, makes the work and the chronological approach taken all the more timely and important. 

As for the much-discussed sex scenes, I thought that they were sincere and spontaneous without being unnecessarily titillating, a quality that could easily have snuck into the sequences. Above all, I love the improvisation flavor. These scenes do not feel staged or choreographed. They are rich, messy, flailing displays of longing, showing the product of a finally consummated fire. The actors' bodies are not only used to act out the written word. They are tools for a complete emotional catharsis, for Adèle to express herself physically and literally let her hair down and for Emma to show love to her partner in the most intimate way imaginable. Sex is not merely a physical act here. It is giving and taking, rough and gentle, art without genre. It is an act of elevated beauty, a sign of absolute surrender and a stepping stone to defiance. 

Another interesting element is the attention that the film pays to the principal characters' hair. Apart from Emma's blue hair being representative of uncompromising individuality, we also have Adèle's perpetually disheveled mane, possibly reflecting inner chaos. During the course of the film, Adèle's hair gets more and more unruly, while Emma's goes from wild and colorful to short and orderly. Since hair is often viewed as a status symbol and a symbol of well-being in our society, these developments force us to see this visual representation on a metaphorical level. Is Emma the one who has truly found herself through this relationship? At the end, we get the sense that Emma is now more composed and more spiritually present, while Adèle is still shattered after their breakup and leaves Emma's exhibition without saying goodbye to anyone. It feels as though she is giving up, descending into her own untidiness, descending into madness.   

Now on to the not-so-impressive aspects. For all of the chemistry between the leads and for all of the passion that builds up, I found the film surprisingly lacking in genuine emotion. How is it possible that Adèle is not evolving as a person? This is probably where her implausible tryst with a colleague comes in. I can see how Adèle might be questioning her sexuality again, considering that she had started her relationship with Emma when she was just a teenager and has never questioned her love until this point. The problem is, the screenplay is unable to properly reconcile Adèle's feelings for Emma with Adèle's uncertainty about herself. The whole affair storyline fades away, as does the intriguing storyline dealing with each of the women's parents. Could Adèle's conservative parents have found out about her and Emma and disowned her? This turn might explain Adèle's inability or unwillingness to move forward, but we never get any sort of clarity on the context and keep watching the central relationship unfold within a bubble. This lack ties in with the ambiguous and distant ending that left me cold, as much as I would have disliked conventional closure.

I also found it unrealistic that Adèle's friends would be so unsympathetic and that they would bully her and Emma, particularly since one of Adèle's best friends was also gay. We are talking about 21st century France, where civil unions between same-sex couples have been voted into power in 1999, where national legislation was enacted in 1985 to prohibit sexual orientation based discrimination and where same-sex marriage has been legal since May 2013. Sure, bigots exist in every group of peers, but the general attitude of the younger generation depicted here leaves much to be desired and had struck me as exaggerated.  

Blue is the Warmest Color is a cinematic paradox. Its powerful notion of individuality is only matched by the passion between the principal characters, but its notion of freedom gets lost in the often clinical writing. I wish that the screenplay had dug deeper into what made these two fascinating women tick and how their love for one another propelled each one of them on their distinct journeys. Instead, the film suffers from a serious case of arrested development, hoping to give its characters wings, but keeping them permanently grounded.

8/10

Weekly Review -- Enemy mine

Welcome to the Punch (2013) -- Great Britain has produced some of the most engaging crime films in the past two decades. Starting with 1994's dystopian Shopping and ending with 2013's slick Welcome to the Punch, the body of work is impressive and the latest offering does not disappoint. Let us put it this way -- Punch packs a whole lot of its title into its storyline.     

**THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS**

Having been injured by criminal Jacob Sternwood (Mark Strong) three years earlier, London detective Max Lewinsky (James McAvoy) is verging on obsessed, determined to catch the man that had eluded him. When Jacob reappears to get his wounded son out of a hospital, Max has his chance, but soon finds out that all is not as it seems and that Jacob's son is part of a widespread conspiracy that involves high-level officials... 

Filmmaker Eran Creevy's thriller is a layered, sophisticated tale of two men on opposite sides of the law that unite to expose a dirty game, one in which they are merely pawns. While the subplots are well thought out and detailed, it is the unlikely kinship between Max and Jacob that forms the essence of the script. The problem is, the film hinges on a connection that is never fully explored. Sure, we understand what drives Max and what drives Jacob, but understanding does not necessarily mean fully investing or signify that the characters have been linked in an organic manner. McAvoy and Strong are brilliant actors, but even they are unable to bring depth to a relationship where there is none to begin with. In fact, while realizing that TV shows operate on an entirely different level of pacing, I will still firmly state that a similar relationship is examined incomparably better on "Hannibal". I wish that there had been some background and more insight as to how Max and Jacob became mortal adversaries and find it unbelievable that it all started with that shot in the tunnel.

I also have to say that the first thing that attracted me to Punch was its gorgeous cinematography, which I later found out was the work of Ed Wild (Severance, "Fleming"). The first sequence alone is worth your two hours, not to mention the moody elegance of all the other shots that Wild treats us to. The steely blue makeover suits London, making it one of those cities that form their own characters in the films they host. 

As I had mentioned, the acting is top-notch. McAvoy is terrific at portraying infatuation and Strong is the master of intensity. Although she could have been given more to do, Andrea Riseborough is excellent as Max's colleague, and David Morrissey has a great turn as one of his superiors. I do think, though, that the cast occasionally gets overshadowed by the aesthetics, which is not a bad thing in the context of the plot and only shows how unique the stylistic elements are. Yes, you could say that this film's look has made my week.

Welcome to the Punch is a thriller that boasts a somber style, taut writing and an intriguing story. It combines 1970s cinematic conspiracy yarns with 21st century techno sensibilities and gives you a London that you have never seen before. See it if you are a fan of the cast or innovative genre entries.         

8/10