I have a sneaking suspicion that Blue is the Warmest Colour wouldn't have gotten so much attention and adoration from the American press if it wasn't French. Because as a 3 hour saga of two girls meeting, falling in love, and breaking up, it's a total bore.
I admit, when it comes to serious love stories, I prefer the melodramatic shirt-tearing kind, where emotions range from simmering, suppressed passion to explosive declarations of adoration to (if it's foreign) an inevitable, yet tragic end.
And Blue is not that kind of movie. It wants to be a naturalistic and contemporary commentary of the irreconcilability of the working and intellectual classes. Though it's hard to take it's message seriously when it consistently films its heroines (Adèle Exarchopoulos and Léa Seydoux), dressed and undressed, in such an openly licentious and male-gazey way.
Ultimately, I didn't find either woman, together or apart, compelling enough to hold my interest for 2 hours, let alone 3. The movie only really came alive near the end, when the two, long since broken up, have an awkward meet-up dinner. There's clutching, kissing, and tears, and it reaches this sublime emotional apex that's both quite silly and a little moving. But it's a lot more investing than anything that came before.