The cliché of actors suffering for their art is under renewed focus after Adèle Exarchopoulous, lead actor in Blue is the Warmest Colour, declared working with director Abdellatif Kechiche was a “horrible” experience she and fellow actress Léa Seydoux were unlikely to repeat. Yet, despite his exhortations for them to physically hurt one another, continue filming through injuries, Exarchopoulous told reporters it had been "good learning experience for me, as an actor". Kechiche wasted no time to hit back.

If the only thing that matters for actors is their performance, then it’s only natural the only thing that matters for directors is the film. As Lars Von Trier once said, “[actors] are the only thing between you and a good film”.

The dynamic, which most often involves female actors and male directors, often takes the form of svengalis and their ingénues – such as David Fincher and Rooney Mara’s creepy interview with Vogue, Roger Vadim near anyone, and both Harmony Korine and Vincent Gallo with Chloe Sevigny as their muse.

Yet this tightly-bound relationship can often crosses over into abuse. In cinema, it is so common as to be mythologised as something to be endured in the pursuit of the only thing that matters: the performance.

Director Stanley Kubrick harangued Shelly Duvall to the point of sickness, demanding 127 takes for The Shining’s bat-swinging scene. She later said she learned more from Kubrick than on all of her previous films. In his hands, the untrained wastrel learned about acting by working in a hostile atmosphere where she was stressed to the point of illness.

This peculiar relationship between actors and directors is perfectly illustrated during a screaming match between Lily Tomlin and David O Russell in the 2004 movie I <3 Huckabees. Jason Schwartzman's character nonchalantly sits without flinching for most of the tirade the director forces upon Tomlin, before leaving as Russell yells “I never fucking yelled at you!”

The mythologisation of this abusive dynamic takes quite literal form in The Girl, the HBO biopic that focuses on Alfred Hitchcock’s obsession with Tippi Hedren. Hitchcock threw and attached live birds to Hedren on the set of The Birds, leaving her traumatised – though reports differ whether this was to procure a more realistic performance or as retribution for rejecting his advances.

Another serial offender is Lars Von Trier, who openly admits to “manipulating” actors for better performances. Bjork described Trier as "need[ing] a female to provide his work soul. And he envies them and hates them for it. So he has to destroy them during the filming. And hide the evidence.” When Nicole Kidman worked with him for Dogville, she reportedly found the experience so unpleasant she declined to work on the planned trilogy.

Does this dynamic result in greater performances? Some believe so and, for the most part, the films discussed are considered classics or, at the very least, critical successes. Blue is the Warmest Colour was roundly praised, and was awarded the Palme D’or.

It seems there is no ethical quandary for audiences to watch performances hatched from pain and under duress. Viewers usually buy into the dynamic, praising the dedication and endurance given in such performances. We thrill at what new heights of dedication to method acting Robert De Niro, Daniel Day Lewis or Meryl Streep display. We mawkishly admire the body modifications of Christian Bale, Anne Hathaway or Natalie Portman.

But is there a line to draw between artistic dedication and expectation of realism from a medium of entirely artificial construction? Does an actor’s physical and emotional investment in their work constitute a reasonable exchange for a viewer’s entertainment?

Even still, if the end result of acting is to capture the most realistic of performances, do we as viewers note the difference? Would the Shining be any different if Kubrick had shot only 12 takes of Duvall’s bat swinging scene? Would the Birds be any less terrifying had Hedren not have live birds thrown or tied to her? Would we view Blue is the Warmest Colour differently had the actresses not been injured on set under Kechiche’s direction?

Even some of the most renowned actors have their doubts. Sir Lawrence Olivier and method-acting Dustin Hoffman shared an infamous exchange during the filming of Marathon Man. Hoffman, who had rationalised not sleeping for 24 hours as preparation a gruelling scene where he needed to appear exhausted, was approached by Sir Laurence, who simply asked “why don’t you try acting?”.