Written for and published by www.litnet.co.za

There is a lot of controversy surrounding the production of this film – and the root of it all is present in the film itself.

Lea Seydoux, one of the leads, said she felt “like a prostitute” during filming. “The director has all the power. When you’re an actor on a film in France and you sign the contract, you have to give yourself, and in a way you’re trapped.” Seydoux did not attend the New York premiere.

The explicit scenes left the break-out star of the film, Adèle Exarchopoulos, feeling “embarrassed” and “ashamed”.

Julie Maroh, author of the book Blue Angel,which the film was based on, called the 10-minute sex scene “a brutal and surgical display, exuberant and cold, of so-called lesbian sex, which turned into porn, and me feeling very ill at ease”. Her possible explanation? “It appears to me this was what was missing on the set: lesbians.”

Director Abdellatif Kechiche hit back by threatening not to the release the film and perhaps even sue Seydoux for her comments. Very classy, indeed.

With this in mind I attended the first South African screening of the film, which formed part of the Out in Africa Film Festival and I was left, conflicted. Even though there are absolutely brilliant aspects to the 3-hour epic, there is a creepiness to it that I am struggling to pin down.

The brilliant bits

Kechiche manages to subtly capture the essence of a scene. Whether it is a party, Pride, an intimate conversation or a violent argument, he just gets it right.

He has perfected filming extra-long, meandering dialogue-heavy scenes, scenes that would normally have been totally boring, in a way which is absolutely engrossing. Intimate, almost mundane conversations have you spellbound. It is a combination of the brilliant script, the close-up shots, the casting choices, and apparently sometimes 100 takes for a single scene.

Filming a crowd without making it look like a set with actors, is difficult. Not for Kechiche. He captures the energy, the passion, yet makes it feel intimate, as if you are there. The same goes for the back-and-forth dinner party banter. It flows, it is natural. It doesn’t feel like a scene in a film, but like the dinner party you attended a few nights back.

He captures both the innocence and the malice of high school children, the intensity of young love, how difficult coming of age can be, and the problems of a class system.

The bad

Sometimes the “rawness” of the film was too much to bear. Cinemagoers were initially grossed out by, and then laughing at, the amount of mucus dripping from Exarchopoulos’s nose throughout the various crying scenes. So much so that no one could concentrate on what was actually being said, or portrayed. It has popped up in many other reviews. How well does that serve your film?

Even though Adèle Exarchopoulos is an incredible acting talent and a delight to watch on screen, after two hours, which felt like 13 hours, I had had enough of her close up, the shots of her sleeping and her derriere in the camera (during walking, sleeping, sex, etc). I just wanted her to stop crying, get over herself and move on with her life, and even perhaps off screen.

The creepiness

In writing this review, I was faced with two options: I could say nothing about the sexual content and be inauthentic. Or I could voice my concern and either be labelled a prude or a whining lesbian. I’m going to go right ahead and state my case. Remember, I don’t speak for all the lesbians on this planet.

I found the sex scenes ridiculous, very clinical and devoid of any real connection between the two leads. In fact, it spoiled the film for me. It was not sensual, not representative of the clumsiness of young love or the emotional intensity between two women. I agree with Maroh that it felt like a porn movie. You just needed some cheesy 70s music.

I also found the extent of the sex scenes gratuitous and shot from a leering, creepy point of view, which must obviously, then, be Kechiche’s point of view, as he is in complete control. Exarchopoulos had barely turned 18 when they shot the film. So yes, she was of age, and she consented to it, blah, blah, blah, yet I cannot help but feel that close-up shots of her labia were exploitative and unnecessary.

There, I’ve said it.

Conclusion

The gratuitous, voyeuristic sexual content unfortunately overshadows the brilliance of the film.