The wife of a famous composer survives a car accident that kills her husband and daughter. Now alone, she shakes off her old identity and explores her newfound freedom but finds that she is unbreakably bound to other humans, including her husband’s mistress, whose existence she never suspected.
Written by Dean Zarbaugh II
I’m ashamed to admit that I had never seen a Krzysztof Kieślowski before now. I’ve always heard his work come up in conversations about some of the great filmmakers of all time, and I’m finally making up for lost time thanks to the Criterion Collection 50% off sale.
Out of all of the incredible films that I picked up on my first Barnes & Noble trip, the Three Colors trilogy was what I was most looking forward to watching. Each film is centered around a different color of the French flag; blue, white and red, each representing France’s national motto of Liberty, Equality and Fraternity respectively. I studied French for four and a half years starting in my last semester of 8th grade, and going all the way through high school. I love the language and the ambiance of France. I regularly kick myself for not going on the class trip to Paris during my senior year. To this day, the closest I’ve been to France is in the World Showcase at EPCOT Center in Disney World. Anyway, back to Blue. Where was I? Oh, right. I rushed home from Barnes & Noble and immediately popped Blue into my 4K player.
Right off the bat, I knew that what I was about to watch would be a truly revolutionary experience. Blue isn’t merely a film. It’s a transcendent visual and auditory experience that intimately explores personal identity, love, loss, grief, infidelity and fame and does so with all of the grace and delicacy required of the subject matter. It’s a quiet, thoughtful meditation on finding oneself after heartbreak and tragedy. Are we able to overcome anguish and grief and still come out the same person on the other side, or will we forever be chasing the ghost of who we used to be? Must we fully shed our pre-tragedy identity in order to move forward? When confronted with a reality shattering event, do we shut ourselves off from the world and isolate? Or is the only way forward to embrace the past, ultimately freeing ourselves from those memories and moments that haunt us? Kieślowski masterfully weaves all of these questions together in one of the most genuinely moving films I’ve seen in a long time.
Visually, the film is simply sublime. Kieślowski and cinematographer Sławomir Idziak combine to form a cinematic dynamic duo behind the camera, making every frame their canvas, painting shots with resplendent hues of cerulean that left me in awe. Kieślowski and Idziak’s use of framing Julie, often alone in single shots, highlighting her growing isolation is masterful. They never stray from Julie’s face, letting Juliette Binoche’s impeccable acting do the majority of the heavy lifting. Throughout the film, the color blue represents the central theme of liberty, yet in the first two-thirds of the film, Kieślowski and Idziak bathes Julie in those hues whenever the memories of that life begin seeping back into her mind, driving her deeper into isolation from the world around her. The pool she seeks solace swimming in is also drenched in blue, making it feel more like a prison than a sanctuary. It isn’t until Julie begins her voyage to reclaim her life and agency that the motif shifts to one of hope, freedom and resilience. In this regard, the color blue exists as its own character, going on its own evolution alongside Julie. Throughout, Kieślowski reinforces the idea that freedom doesn’t exist in a binary state, but something that is constantly in flux, always being worked on much like us.
There are so many beautiful shots I don’t know where to begin! The first shot that made my jaw hit the floor is when we see the reflection of the doctor in Julie’s pupil as he informs her of the outcome of the car accident. Kieślowski utilizes reflections throughout the film, in mirrors, windows, water and even cutlery. In the cafe she has found some respite, she dips her sugar cube in her coffee, and there’s a closeup of the cube absorbing the liquid that was simply stunning. Another visual metaphor from Kieślowski as Julie takes in her self-imposed isolation. Halfway through the film, Julie is swimming in her newfound sanctuary when she is struck with the memory of her husband’s work and floats motionless with her hands over her ears and her head under water in an attempt to escape it. Blue is the textbook definition of showing versus telling, and boy does Kieślowski put on a show with this film.
The script from Krzysztof Piesiewicz & Krzysztof Kieślowski is thought provoking and moved me to my core. It centers on the theme of “liberty,” with Julie going on a journey to free herself from the memories of her life before a tragic car crash that took the lives of her famous composer husband and their six year old daughter, but spared her. Initially, she attempts suicide, but finds that she can’t go through with it. In a final farewell to her old life, she sleeps with Olivier, a former collaborator of her husband who she knows to be infatuated with her before she disconnects from everything, preparing her estate to be sold, and moves to Paris without telling anyone where. In her own words, “these are all traps” of a life that no longer exists and never will again. She eventually falls into a routine of attempting to forget her previous life. She is either alone in her apartment, at the local pool, or a cafe, living her life on autopilot, with hours and even days and weeks blending together. Her only reminder of her former life being her daughter’s ceiling pendant she keeps hung by the window, casting her apartment in streaks of blue from the pendant’s reflection of the sunlight. She suddenly finds echos of her family all around; in the melody of a local flute peddler, in her interactions with the witness to the tragic accident as well as her neighbor and even her husband’s mistress. Blue teaches us that no matter how insurmountable things may seem, the human spirit can overcome anything.
With the fame and notoriety that came along with Julie’s husband’s career, Piesiewicz & Kieślowski highlight the vampiric nature of the so-called “journalists” hounding Julie for information on her recently deceased husband’s uncompleted work celebrating the recent reunification of Europe, and answers to unfounded rumors about their relationship. With the benefit of hindsight, one can’t help but see some foreshadowing of the tragedy that would befall Princess Diana and Dodi Fayed a few years later in France after they were relentlessly pursued by the same type of blood-sucking paps on the streets. The news and media love to exploit a tragedy for ratings and nowadays, the all important algorithm engagement economy. Kieślowski shines a spotlight on these leeches and their constant need to fuel the gossip machine that runs the world: entertainment journalism.
There isn’t much in way of long soliloquies or monologues throughout the film, Kieślowski and Piesiewicz instead telling a majority of the story through Binoche’s dominant performance, Idziak’s gorgeous visuals and composer Zbigniew Preisner’s powerful operatic score. The conversations that are in the film are short and to the point.
Juliette Binoche puts on a masterclass in acting throughout as her character is continuously haunted by her late husband’s music and fame. She dissociates from her life, her friends, and her family as she shuts herself down emotionally, gliding through life from one day to the next. It’s an honest and raw portrayal of someone recovering from a traumatic event and significant loss. While her face remains a tabula rasa of emotion throughout the film, the feelings that she is experiencing are bubbling beneath the surface, aching to be released, if only Julie could allow herself to let them loose. Juliette Binoche gives one of the most enchanting, enigmatic performances that I have ever seen, and does so without spectacle, just unfiltered acting and understanding the character. Julie is a character that is human, and full of little contradictions like you or me, and Binoche plays them with great effect. Kieślowski himself is one giant walking contradiction; an old, chain smoking curmudgeon of a person who is responsible for making some of the most delicate, gentle and thought-provoking examinations of the human condition ever put on screen.
I can’t remember the last time I saw a movie for the first time and immediately wanted to watch it again, but that’s how I felt when I finished Three Colors: Blue. I actually restarted the film after the credits rolled, and meticulously studied every scene. It’s equally as powerful the second time around. A film has not had this much of an impact on me in a while. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it and Binoche’s powerful performance.
Three Colors: Blue has earned a spot in my top 25 films of all time list, a list that has remained largely unchanged for years. It is a film that must be experienced by everyone at some point in their lives. It’s a revolutionary work of art that has remained in the back of my mind ever since first watching it. The Three Colors trilogy cemented Kieślowski as one of the greatest and most influential filmmakers of all-time.
GRADE: A+
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