Rating: Summary: A brilliant shade of "Blue" Review: Director Krzysztof Kieslowski's "Blue" is the first of a trilogy of films which take their title from the colors of the french flag (blue, white, and red) and their theme from the French motto of "liberty, equality, fraternity." In this achingly beautiful interpretation, liberty comes as the result of loss. The film opens in a shroud of bluish fog, as Julie (Juliette Binoche), her husband Patrice and their young daughter are on a car trip. Because of the fog, the Alfa Romeo continues to go straight when the road curves, and the car collides with a tree. Only Julie survives. Although her bandages and bruises disappear rather quickly, Julie's emotions take much longer to heal. The rest of the movie is an eloquent, moving look at how she deals with the aftermath of her loss, from the seemingly trivial annoyance of finding mice in her new apartment to the discovery that her husband had kept a mistress for years. She tries to repress her emotions by freeing herself from her past: she sells the contents of her country estate and moves to a small apartment in a section of Paris where no one knows her, signing the lease with her maiden name. All she brings with her, besides books and clothes, is a chandelier of dripping blue crystals, a prism which refracts the past. As one would guess from the title, the color blue washes over this movie, tinting it with melancholy. But more striking than the film's use of color is its music. Patrice was a famous composer who was writing a concerto to celebrate the unification of Europe at the time of his death. Although Julie destroys his notes after his death, his secretary had made a copy and sent it to his partner, Olivier (Benoit Regent), who is now working to complete the unfinished symphony. Throughout the movie, whenever Julie's emotions well up within her, strains of the concerto flood the movie -- the screen goes black so the viewer, too, focuses only on the music, which seems to express at once both the anguish and release that Julie feels. Through Kieslowski's cinematography and Binoche's subtle facial expressions, the viewer is immersed in the understated emotion of the film -- an immersion that does not end when the credits roll, for the film leaves a few issues unresolved that make it, like its main character, such a captivating enigma. END
Rating: Summary: Blue Can Be Beautiful Review: "Blue" is the first film in Krzysztof Kieslowski's "Three Colors" trilogy that examines life in contemporary European society. Each of the three films corresponds to a color in the French flag and a segment of the French national motto. They are "Blue" (liberté), "White" (egalité) and "Red" (fraternité). The theme of liberty runs throughout "Blue," but it is a cruel, unwelcome liberty. The husband and daughter of Julie (Juliet Binoche), a young French woman, are killed in a car accident at the beginning of the film. She, of course, is devastated. She briefly considers suicide, but is unable to go through with it. That would take an intensity of emotion-grief, loss, despair, something-that she simply does not have. She is so cold inside that she can feel nothing at all, not even sadness. (Blue, after all, is the coldest color of the spectrum.) In one telling scene, Julie comes upon her housekeeper who is weeping profusely. "Why are you crying?," she asks her. "I am crying," the maid replies, "because you are not." Julie decides that her only course of action is to free herself completely from her past. She sells her house and all of her possessions and moves to an apartment in Paris where she knows no one and no one knows her. The only thing she keeps is her daughter's blue bead lamp, a colorful focal point in her drab, spartan quarters, and the only reminder of her lost life. Before she can leave, though, Julie must give herself one final test. She seduces Olivier (Benoit Regent), a rather dull former colleague of her husband's who, not incidentally, is in love with her. They make love on a solitary mattress in her empty house, but she feels nothing. Perhaps she really is incapable of love. Having confirmed her suspicion, she walks away without even a backward glance. Julie's disappearance, however, is difficult. Her late husband was a famous composer and they both remain the subject of media interest and gossip. It is rumored that Julie actually wrote his music herself, and it is true that the sounds of his last, unfinished work haunt her throughout the film. No matter where she goes, she cannot escape his (or is it her?) music because it lives within her mind and her soul. Occasionally the action is stopped completely and the screen fades to black, accompanied by the fortissimo sounds of his last, farewell concerto. It is an interesting, risky device, but it works well in conveying the dislocation, the sense of forever being apart from others, that Julie feels. In the most interesting twist in the film, Julie meets her late husband's mistress, Sandrine, (Florence Pernel), a woman she did not even know existed. Sandrine is pregnant with his baby, a shocking revelation, but Julie does not hate her for it. Rather, she is remarkably generous and kind, just as he had always promised Sandrine she was. All Julie wants to know is, "Did he love you?" She answers her own question, though, when she spots the cross hanging from Sandrine's neck, the same beloved gift her husband gave to her. Kieslowski takes his time in telling his story. Things do not happen quickly, nor are events momentous when they occur. The pacing is slow and languorous, but certainly never boring. Unlike most movies made today, this is a quiet, subtle film. Kieslowski and his cinematographer do a lot with the lighting, particularly in the scenes in the swimming pool. Those shots are awash in soft, evocative blue hues that give the scenes an exquisite, dream-like feel. The performances by all of the leads are splendid. Juliette Binoche is truly a marvelous actress. She was so good in Godard's "Hail Mary" and Malle's "Damage," and she is even better here. Her character does not say much, nor does she take much dramatic action. Most of what we learn about her comes from staring into her sad eyes and regarding her troubled face. She is able to convey so much, not with broad strokes or grand gestures, but with intricate nuances and careful expressions. It is a performance to treasure. As I watched "Blue," I was reminded of another excellent French production, "Un Coeur en Hiver," that also dealt with painful music and the tragedy of a cold, unfeeling heart. The similarities are subtle, but I think both of these films demonstrate one quality sorely lacking in most Hollywood pictures: maturity. The average major studio release is targeted at the core demographic of 14 to 24 year old males, not exactly the most discerning audience around. This strategy results in a lot of dreadful films being made. Fortunately for those of us with a more highly developed aesthetic sense, there are films like "Blue" around to satisfy our longings.
Rating: Summary: Kieslowski's "Blue" period Review: Blue is the color of sadness and depression. And "Blue" ("Bleu") is the first film in the celebrated Colors trilogy by Krzysztof Kieslowski. Accompanying the rich "Red" ("Rouge") and sharp "White" ("Blanc"), this is a beautiful and haunting look at grief and getting past it. Julie de Courcy (Juliette Binoche) and her family are in a car accident when their brakes fail. Julie is injured, but her composer husband and their daughter die. She can't bring herself to commit suicide, but neither can she just go home and get over it. So instead she leaves her palatial house in the country after a night with her husband's old friend Olivier (Benoît Régent), who has been in love with her for years. Julie arrives in Paris with nothing but a blue cut-glass lampshade, takes back her maiden name, rents an apartment, and tries to leave her old life behind. Though she says she doesn't want love or friends (because they are "traps"), she befriends a promiscuous young woman and is pulled back to Olivier when he starts to finish her husband's unfinished work. In turn, Olivier reveals to her the side of her husband she never knew -- the other woman he loved. The Colors trilogy is based on the colors of the French flag: Blue, white and red, standing respectively for liberty, equality, and fraternity. In this, Julie is unconsciously seeking liberty from her past life and her grief. This grief is shown beyond mere tears and unhappiness. She rakes her knuckles over a rough wall, rips off a strand off the hanging lampshade, as little ways of showing her inner turmoil. At the same time, the revelations about Julie's husband raises questions about their marriage and about Julie herself. The powerful music celebrating the EU pops up periodically, often when Julie experiences strong emotion. At times, the screen goes dark, and the overwhelming, soaring symphony is all you can detect. And as Kieslowski does in "White" and "Red," this film is sprinkled with color and symbolism. Blue crops up in little dancing bars of light on Julie's face, in her clothing, a swimming pool, in rain-slicked windows, a misty blue morning and a lollipop. This may be Binoche's best performance. Her expressive eyes and subtle facial expressions convey every tormented or peaceful emotion that Julie feels. One of the best shots in the entire movie is the final one, in which we see Julie, unhappy and tearful, slowly starting to smile. (She also is shown weeping underwater, something I've never seen before) Régent seems rather colorless beside Binoche's reverberating performance, but his quiet, sweet Olivier is an underrated character. A harrowing, beautiful and ultimately romantic film, "Blue" brims over with pathos and beautiful direction. A true piece of cinematic art.
Rating: Summary: Blue - Simply Brilliant! Review: Three Colors: Blue is the first film in a trilogy that depicts liberty, which is one of the national French mottos. Julie (Juliette Binoche) is the sole survivor in a car accident where she loses her husband and daughter. She falls into a depression where she begins to rid herself of everything that reminds her of her departed husband. In the process of freeing herself from her husband who was a prominent composer, she cuts off all ties from her past by moving to an undisclosed location in Paris. She attempts to withdraw from people and live in seclusion, however, several situations force her to keep contact with people from her present and past existence. The past that she makes an effort to avoid seems to draw her back to the social milieu and it seems like the past also helps to heal her spiritual wounds. Blue is a powerful film that grabs the audience and forces the viewer through a private cerebral catharsis. In addition, there are several elements and sub plots that encourage self-reflection and individual growth. Lastly, the film is a cinematographic masterpiece that offers a brilliant cinematic experience.
Rating: Summary: "THE ART OF LOSING ISN'T HARD TO MASTER..." Review: BLUE is the first film in Kieslowski's THREE COLORS TRILOGY. On the surface and most literal level, these films were designed to explore the French revolutionary ideals of liberty, equality, and fraternity as they apply to contemporary life. BLUE is a meditation on liberty, but a liberty achieved through loss and isolation. The movie is a thoughtful and compassionate look at the events and emotions that shape the choices each person makes in his or her life.Julie attempts to flee from her past after surviving an accident that kills her immediate family. She then severes all ties to the past and leaves for Paris. (This is not Paris of the Nouvelle Vague or the touristic city reproduced in postcards, television, and the movies. It's as if the film-maker is trying to say that this story can happen in any bustling metropolis.) Despite her new-found anonymity in the big city, she soon learns that the past intrudes, persistently, and finds herself coming out of her isolation. Kieslowski doesn't quite tell us what is going on in the mind and heart of Julie. Instead, he indicates her confused yet radiant soul--no small feat in these 'post-modern' times of lost interiority. This is what Kieslowski is after, this sense of a vibrant imagination. Quite appropriate to our post-ideological climate, the film suggests that liberty is a phantom, imperfect and unrealistic at best. Despite how her second life turns out, Julie's long day closes with a note of fraternity: no man is an island, every man has a soul.
Rating: Summary: Elegant philosophical exploration Review: The most obvious association we have with blue is depression. In the three colours of the French Republic, blue stands for freedom. Trois Couleurs : Bleu is about both. More precisely, it is an exploration of what personal freedom means, and if we can find it in a social context where we cannot live without relationships. The female character of Bleu is Julie (played by Juliette Binoche), who is part of a car accident where her husband and daughter both die. The husband was a famous composer, and was working on a piece for the European Union's inauguration : his co-worker is in love with her and becomes her very temporary lover. As in "The Sweet Hereafter", the accident is not a focal point made to display special effects, but a motor of narrative. Julie desires to start a new life where she has no more links to anything. While it is laudable to once again see a moral balance being drawn, it is tiring to see how much movie-makers want to make their characters start from a position of over-independence, instead of over-dependence. About a Boy is another good example. Nevertheless, Blue provides an elegant philosophical exploration of the same issues, superior in most ways to the latter movie. In some ways it is also spiritual : not only in the beautiful esthetics of the movie or how it shows the interconnections people's lives, but it is also hard not to compare Julie's attempts at complete detachment with the most moderate eschewing of attachment as proposed by Buddhist doctrine (indeed, the ending of Bleu could be interpreted as supporting this moderate view).
Rating: Summary: Kieslowski's "Blue" period Review: Blue is the color of sadness and depression. And "Blue" ("Bleu") is the first film in the celebrated Colors trilogy by Krzysztof Kieslowski. Accompanying the rich "Red" ("Rouge") and sharp "White" ("Blanc"), this is a beautiful and haunting look at grief and getting past it. Julie de Courcy (Juliette Binoche) and her family are in a car accident when their brakes fail. Julie is injured, but her composer husband and their daughter die. She can't bring herself to commit suicide, but neither can she just go home and get over it. So instead she leaves her palatial house in the country after a night with her husband's old friend Olivier (Benoît Régent), who has been in love with her for years. Julie arrives in Paris with nothing but a blue cut-glass lampshade, takes back her maiden name, rents an apartment, and tries to leave her old life behind. Though she says she doesn't want love or friends (because they are "traps"), she befriends a promiscuous young woman and is pulled back to Olivier when he starts to finish her husband's unfinished work. In turn, Olivier reveals to her the side of her husband she never knew -- the other woman he loved. The Colors trilogy is based on the colors of the French flag: Blue, white and red, standing respectively for liberty, equality, and fraternity. In this, Julie is unconsciously seeking liberty from her past life and her grief. This grief is shown beyond mere tears and unhappiness. She rakes her knuckles over a rough wall, rips off a strand off the hanging lampshade, as little ways of showing her inner turmoil. At the same time, the revelations about Julie's husband raises questions about their marriage and about Julie herself. The powerful music celebrating the EU pops up periodically, often when Julie experiences strong emotion. At times, the screen goes dark, and the overwhelming, soaring symphony is all you can detect. And as Kieslowski does in "White" and "Red," this film is sprinkled with color and symbolism. Blue crops up in little dancing bars of light on Julie's face, in her clothing, a swimming pool, in rain-slicked windows, a misty blue morning and a lollipop. This may be Binoche's best performance. Her expressive eyes and subtle facial expressions convey every tormented or peaceful emotion that Julie feels. One of the best shots in the entire movie is the final one, in which we see Julie, unhappy and tearful, slowly starting to smile. (She also is shown weeping underwater, something I've never seen before) Régent seems rather colorless beside Binoche's reverberating performance, but his quiet, sweet Olivier is an underrated character. A harrowing, beautiful and ultimately romantic film, "Blue" brims over with pathos and beautiful direction. A true piece of cinematic art.
Rating: Summary: See it with a fine arts major Review: She is the wife of a great composer, and the music plays in her head, because she is really the composer herself. After her husband and daughter are killed in a traffic accident, she tries to kill herself because the music is too beautiful and the memory of it too painful, but she can't swallow the pills. Then she tries to renounce the world but finds that she still cares. She is still of flesh. She says she wants no belongings and no memories, "No friends, no love. Those are all traps." This is a beautiful film, perhaps too precious for some, understated and overdone by turns with artsy shots on common objects and blurred views filtered through liquid colors, especially of course the color blue. Sometimes the movie was so quiet for so long I became aware of the faint whine of the VCR. Juliette Binoche, lately seen as the nurse in "The English Patient," dominates the screen with her affecting countenance. The camera continually explores and re-explores her face-an interesting, almost androgynous face, kind and gentle, unassuming with a sweet undercurrent of power. I liked this better than the overly clever "White" that followed, also directed by the talented Krzysztof Kieslowski. "Red" starring the incomparable Irène Jacob and featuring long-time French film favorite, Jean-Louis Trintignant, is the Kieslowski film I like best.
Rating: Summary: A film about human connection Review: The film can be seen in different levels, beautifully acted by the Juliet Binoche. It has great piece of cinematography, and use of lights to portray emotions and state of mind. On one level, the film is about a woman, in early 30s, lost her husband (a renowned composer) and her child in an accident. Devastated by the loss, she tried to deny her past and shelved herself in solitary existence. She occasionally tested herself, to test her capacity to feel, with failure, desperate to forget his past, left her family house, instructed her attorney to make arrangement to sell the house, and settled in a small, cozy parisan apartment. She lived in her apartment, away from everybody. Her only contacts to the world was her mother an Alzheimer patient, living in an old age home. A live contrast with her present situation, when she is trying to forget her past, her mother, an Alzheimer patient living with a permanent oblivious memory. She eventually comes back to accept her existence through series of events that unfolds. In another plane the film is about connection. One is living so long he/she can connect to his/her surroundings. In the café, when she listens to the tune of the flutist, which he claimed to invent alone, the tune which is similar to composition that her husband was working, immediately connects her to her husband, her loss and present state of mind. This was beautifully displayed by niece piece of cinematography, as lights and shades goes warmer and warmer, when she started connecting the tune to herself. There are similar pieces in the story, which again forces her to connect to her world, her associations and so forth. The theme was nicely projects in the last scene, when the images of the different characters, association passed floating on the screen. These connections allowed her to rejuvenate the will to live. Kieslowski's various other movies, like RED, Double Life of Veronica, centered around this theme of strange human connections, not very obvious, but in certain metaphysical plane. In this context his films actually took a flight in a spiritual plane. The meaning of human existence is in connection with the surroundings. It can transcends the life from pain and sufferings.
Rating: Summary: Highly Emotional and Psychological Stylized Film Review: I was actually told by several friends that "Blue" by Kieslowski was a "boring" movie, so unfortunately I avoided it as long as I could. That was a mistake. This is not a "boring" movie at all. "Blue" may move slow, but that is because the so-called "action" takes place in the beginning minutes of the movie, while the remainder of the story traces one woman's ability to deal with that event, and our witnessing of her inner-trauma. I disgree with my friends, who may need to take a reviewing of this wonderful movie. "Blue" is casted well. It is filmed even better. It has some cinematography that could be said to rival some of Kubrick's films. Of course, the color blue appears throughout the screen at various times and in several clever ways, but the real gem of the film in keeping in true "Kubrick-esque" style is the score. This movie makes excellent use of music, not just as a "mood-setting device", but also as a narration and puntuation trigger, not altogether unlike things that we associate with Godard's films. I applaud this director's keen sense of how music can empower a scene and give it great depth and subtle meaning. Film historian and author Annette Insdorf gives a valuable and insightful commentary track that will enhance your understanding, not just of this particular film, but of the Blue, White, and Red trilogy as well as the man Krzysztof Kieslowski himself, personally and professionally. A wonderful DVD - with a behind the scenes documentary and a few extras as well. And of course, Juliette Binoche is simply beautiful here - pathos incarnate.
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