The Carousing She-Cat Comes Slithering Home
Written: Mar 10 '05 (Updated Apr 08 '05)
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Pros: Good performances by some fine character actors; some clever moments
Cons: Thematically dissatisfying; some humor elements overplayed; needs better editing
The Bottom Line: Not especially recommended. Could be moderately entertaining for those with a special interest in French films of the thirties.
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| metalluk's Full Review: Baker's Wife |
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Plot Details: This opinion reveals everything about the movie's plot.
I think that for me personally, the deal-breaker in my enjoyment of a drama film, in most cases, is not agreeing with the film's message. There's not much a film can do in the way of production values or performances to compensate for irritating content. The Baker's Wife certainly has some amusing gags and excellent performances, but all that is largely lost on me because of a primary theme with which I fundamentally disagree.
Historical Background: When Marcel Pagnol turned to making The Baker's Wife in 1939, he had just that same year won the Best Foreign Film award from the New York Film Critics for the magnificent Harvest, though Harvest had actually been completed in 1937, two years earlier than its arrival in New York theaters. For his new effort, Pagnol decided to adapt a novel entitled Jean Le Bleu by Jean Giono. Pagnol, who was a playwright of great renown, would act as scriptwriter, director, and producer for the film, as he frequently did, with his penchant for independent filmmaking. He would also draw much of his cast from the group of performers who had often appeared in the films that he either directed or produced (or directed and produced). Astoundingly, The Baker's Wife earned him a second straight Best Foreign Film award from the New York critics (See New York Film Critics' Circle Awards for Foreign Films (1935-2004).) The Baker's Wife picks up, in one sense, where Harvest left off, with the wheat sewn and harvested in the earlier film now being lovingly turned into the baker's flour and bread.
The Story: The basic contours of the story are rather straightforward. In the small, rural villages of France in the nineteenth century, no one was more important to the community's sense of well being than the baker. It's a big event, therefore, when the first batch of bread cooked up by the town's new baker, Aimable Castanier (Raimu), is due to emerge from his ovens. The whole town turns out, even the Marquis Castan de Venelles (Fernand Charpin), the Schoolteacher (Robert Bassac), and the Curate (Robert Vattier), the three leaders of the town, each in his own respect. And it's very good bread indeed, as all are quick to agree. Aimable is a humble, somewhat rotund man, but he does take pride in two things in his life: the bread he bakes and his lovely wife, Aurélie. She is indeed pretty, and young as well, and one can't help wondering how such a homely man came by such a lovely spouse. She, apparently, is having similar thoughts herself.
Soon, we realize that she barely speaks to him and that their relationship is asexual. He nevertheless treats her tenderly and dotes on her as though she were a precious treasure. Her foremost desire is to run away and the Marquis's strappingly handsome shepherd, Dominique (Charles Moulin), is a likely prospect. When Dominique and two friends come to serenade outside the baker's bedroom window, the ever-trusting Aimable imagines that it's the village's equivalent of welcome wagon, despite the rather amorous quality of Dominique's song. He naively sends Aurélie down to offer the crooner the day's last bit of pastry. Instead, Aurélie is soon nibbling on the shepherd's lip.
By morning, Aurélie is long gone. She and Dominique have trotted off on the Marquis's prize stallion. Aimable oversleeps (since his wife had provided his wakeup calls). He searches high and low for her, all the while trusting in harmless explanations for her absence. He imagines she's gone to the garden, or the church, or to her mother's house. The other villagers surmise the reality of the situation, but Aimable continues with his denials. Finally the Marquis shows up, having received word from his other shepherd that Dominique has run off with both the Marquis's horse and the baker's wife. The Marquis's chief concern, naturally, is his horse!
As the truth of the situation sinks in for the unfortunate baker, he becomes quite distraught. It's Sunday, so he heads off to mass, hoping for some consolation. The curate has overheard the gossip concerning the unfaithful Aurélie and decides to make an example of her and to relate her transgression to lack of church attendance. His argument is that everyone needs a shepherd in life and if it's not The Good Shepherd, then it will be a deceiving one like Dominique. He concludes that Aurélie's running off will be a good thing for the community. This interpretation doesn't sit at all well with Aimable, who quietly slithers out of the assembly.
The broken-hearted man heads next to the tavern and proceeds to get magnificently drunk. The villagers try their best to console him as he waffles back and forth between more denial and profound self-pity. "I invited this fellow into my house for a cookie," he moans, "and he took all I had." Aimable is in such despair that he shuts down his ovens and refuses to bake any more bread. Well, a rural village without bread is a village in turmoil, so the Marquis organizes the men of the town into a search party. Since the Marquis's horse returned soon after the couple's elopement, they can't be far. The town is divided up into sectors, with each to be scoured by a pair of the men. One by one, the pairs return with no results, except that one foursome comprised of old rivals comes back more than half wasted and as newfound best friends. In their drunken state, they insensitively present Aimable with a set of horns, which, of course, symbolize cuckoldry. Aimable sneaks off to the bakery's basement and sets out to hang himself. He is rescued in the nick of time, word having arrived that his wife has been spotted.
The man who has seen her turns out to be Maillefer (Edouard Delmont), a man who operates with less than a full deck of cards. Some years earlier, Maillefer had been struck on the head by a heavy object and suffers memory lapses whenever his train of thought is interrupted or he's asked a question. The Marquis gives the assembled crowd strict orders not to interrupt Maillefer as he divulges his information, but the four drunks are way past being able to contain themselves to that extent. Maillefer begins recounting his entire day in excruciating detail while the poor baker painfully waits for the only relevant point to be revealed. Where is Aurélie?
At long last, it is learned that she and her lover are hiding out in a hut on an island in a marsh, near where Maillefer goes fishing. It is decided to send the curate and the schoolteacher, who can barely stand one another, in tandem. The curate will be needed to threaten the pair with eternal damnation while the schoolteacher is one of the few villagers who know how to traverse the marsh safely. As they approach the site of the debauchery, the shepherd races off, in fear of being cursed by the preacher. Aurélie is then encouraged by some well chosen biblical quotations to repent and sin no more. The townspeople are ordered off the street so that the sinner can return without undue humiliation. One pious old spinster refuses, planning to stare down the fallen woman. The schoolteacher finds a quick solution to that problem by telling the old biddy that he's about to strip her to the waist and make up for lost time. That's more than enough to send her scurrying home.
Well, Aurélie finally slinks home, just as the mate of the baker's tomcat also comes sidling back, after carousing all night with some alley cat. Aimable is content to have his beauty back and saves his hostility for the she-cat. Aurélie swears that she'll never wander again and the restored marital couple relight the ovens together.
Themes: The theme apparently intended for this film is cuckoldry and forgiveness, but the thematic content just doesn't stand up to scrutiny very well, in my opinion. We've got a beautiful young woman married to a devoted slob of a man who is a good deal older than she. She's obviously miserable and their relationship involves neither romance nor love. He's devoted to her, as a precious ornament to show off to other villagers, but clearly has no understanding of her needs. Consequently, she runs off at the first opportunity with a virile young stud. The villagers, however, unite behind their common need for bread, marshal their religious pieties, and pressure the woman back into the domesticity that she found so abhorrent. The message of this film is very much anti-feminist. The woman ends up submitting to the expectations of the community and the church, subordinates her own personal happiness to that of the baker, and submits to a loveless and sexless relationship, so that the town's economic interests are preserved. I reject the thematic implications of this film. For me personally, that's a fatal shortcoming for a film. I was very disappointed with this film. After having been exceptionally impressed with Harvest, I expected something better.
Production Values: The censors in America, in 1940, again took exception to this Pagnol film, after having turned a jaundiced eye toward Harvest the year before. Apparently the jovial treatment given by the French to such scandalous happenings was more than the times in America could bear. The brisk wit and lighthearted humor is what this film has most going for it. There are some very humorous moments in the film, but some of the jokes get worked over and over for way too long a period of time. For example, Pagnol milks the absurdity of the baker's denial of his wife's infidelity to the point of monotony. Likewise, the scenes depicting drunken behavior, first on the part of Aimable and, later, four of the villagers, are interminable. The transitions between scenes utilize a rather ineffective fade technique.
There's much to enjoy, however, in some of the visual images and in the performances. Once again, Pagnol gives us precious insight into life in rural France. The sets are superlative and the outdoor shots effective. The team of cinematographers included Georges Benoit, R. Lendruz, and N. Daries. This film offers as fine a set of character actors as you'll ever see assembled. Raimu is very good in the lead role of the baker, except that some of his scenes are badly in need of tighter editing. He had previously appeared in such films as Marius (1931), Fanny (1932), and Cesar (1936). Ginette Leclerc, as the wife, and Charles Moulin, as the shepherd, are the only attractive looking people in the cast and get relatively little screen time. Robert Vattier delivered a fine performance as the curate and had previously appeared in all of the same films listed above for Raimu. Robert Bassac had a couple of scenes in which he got a chance to shine as the schoolteacher. His interaction with the excessively pious shrew was the film's highlight for me.
Bottom-Line: I have a lot of difficulty enjoying a film when I fundamentally disagree with the thematic material. I can separately evaluate production values, but thematic appeal or lack thereof is a bigger factor in how I respond. Compared to Harvest, which I loved, this film is very disappointing thematically and also somewhat disappointing in overplaying some of its jokes to the point where they are drained of humor. The Baker's Wife is in French with English subtitles and has a running time of 124 minutes.
Recommended:
No
Viewing Format: VHS Video Occasion: Better than Watching TV Suitability For Children: Not suitable for Children of any age
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