The stylish, sexy global sensation of the mid-1980s has had an hour of material added that has underlined the film’s artistic qualities without losing any of the elements that originally seduced a generation 40 years ago.
Every frame of Jean-Jacques Beineix's film carries the stamp of its era and country of origin.
Betty Blue - Director’s Cut 1986
37°2 le matin
Art movie or sex romp? Please don’t make us choose. For many teens growing up in the mid-1980s, French import Betty Blue represented an opportunity to expand our global horizons, to mature in the presence of some tragic romance—and to gaze upon the bodacious Béatrice Dalle and her handsome handyman lover, Zorg (the Adrien Brody–like Anglade).
But if Betty Blue feasts on the bodies of its leads, it’s this director’s cut that fully establishes the movie’s artistic bona fides. More than an hour of material has been added to the narrative, which begins in a splash of pink paint at a seaside resort, and then meanders to Paris and a cute hamlet where the couple’s attraction blooms. Isn’t it praise to confess that none of these new scenes stood out to me? The movie is still an organic whole, its exuberant lovemaking and drunken carousing alternating with a committed relationship’s natural lulls.
If Betty Blue plays into the salacious archetype of the “liberated” foreign film, at least it repays you with real feelings of earthiness. And now, it’s closer to the serious movie we always said it was, while blushing.
– Joshua Rothkopf, Timeout