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Anatomy of a ‘Blue is the Warmest Colour’ review

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This steamy production still, which handily implies nudity without actually showing any.

Opening paragraph detailing Blue Is The Warmest Colour‘s troubled production history. This should read somewhat like the minutes of a grand jury trial against Abdellatif Kerchiche.

The writer affects an above-it-all, it’s-the-art-that-really-matters stance on the subject, while also milking the scandal for all it’s journalistically worth.

“Quote comparing the experience of starring in Blue Is The Warmest Colour to that of having one’s legs hacked off with a rusty meat cleaver” — Léa Seydoux

Self-consciously clinical description of the film’s ‘infamous’ sex scenes, followed by a series of pun-laden cracks (*snigger*) designed to sidestep the inherent discomfort of talking openly about sexual intercourse.

Inadvertent admission that the writer was aroused for a considerable portion of the film’s runtime.

An embedded video in which four American women are trotted out like circus animals to speak on behalf of the world’s lesbians.

The sudden realisation that, six paragraphs in, the writer has failed to actually comment on the movie whatsoever, followed by a last-ditch root through the thesaurus in search of synonyms for ‘passionate’.

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