if I had directed "Blue is the Warmest Color"

We've seen the criticism of Blue is the Warmest Color: 
—it's a guy directing two straight actresses portraying lesbians
—it's pornographic
—it exploits its actors
—it mystifies female sexuality/orgasm/bodies
—it runs too long
—it's too French

And we've seen the criticism of the criticism...but that's not why we're here.

If I had directed Blue is the Warmest Color, I'd have:
—shortened the first hour to 15 minutes because the sequence with Thomas doesn't need all that time to get the point across
—given Adèle and her family some modicum of table manners, though watching someone chew with her mouth open does make you focus on her eyes
—eased back on the high school classroom sequences because kids more thoughtful and erudite than most PhD students are just annoying
—lit the sex scenes less like operating theaters
—added a few dozen more positions to round out the lesbian sex catalogue (if you're gonna do it...)
—found a credible reason for Emma to decline sex
—explored Adèle's closetedness and Emma-the-artist's relationship to it, especially given the Pride sequences
—extended the break-up beyond one cataclysmic moment to balance the apparently epic sex with a parting of ways equal in dramatic power
—dropped all the talk about the weather
—made the narrative less dependent on Adèle's face (who said, "All film happens on the human face"?)
—dropped some of the voyeuristic shots
—broadened Adèle's menus beyond spaghetti bolognese, even though it's become the pan-EU dish

Some of the scenes in Blue is the Warmest Color resonate deeply, and it telegraphs passion compellingly.  Adèle and Emma each have a distinct presence, and you come to care about what's going to happen to them.  I appreciate the depiction of teen girls' bullying, predation by women, the vertigo of falling in love, the hope and the despair of seeing the lost lover again.  It's made me think some more about the meaning of hair and how intensely emotions can manifest physiologically.  The discussions of art surely cater mostly to art house audiences, and given the 20 minutes of sex, I'm still figuring out how to interpret the only onscreen shot of a vulva appearing while Emma is painting Adèle from life.  The subjectivity of Adèle's desire seemed more remotely conceived than Emma's, which is not to say that they have to match or even balance, but the intensity could go even deeper by bringing it more consciousness.

Go see it – see what you think.  What would you change?

—Susana Darwin (10 November 2013)

11 November 2013 addendum 
The movie's kind of a mess behind all the offscreen drama.  One thing the film seems to be trying to be about is how becoming someone's muse when you're young can create problems for your identity and your relationship, but ironically, the director's worshipful posture towards Adèle the actress/Adèle the character obscures the point.  A film can be complex without being messy (but maybe this is some sort of postmodern cinematic Escher interlock...?)  Anyway, in addition, I'd have:

—depicted more viscerally the chases and idealizations among Adèle the muse, Emma the artist, and Emma's art dealer

—not named the character "Adèle," the same name as the actress portraying her