Widow Clicquot
The Napoleon of Wine

1,054 words

A new film directed by Thomas Napper, Widow Clicquot, is a period piece that avoids guns, histrionics, spectacle and passion. Well, not exactly avoiding passion, but depicting passion with wine, land, and production.

It’s the Napoleonic wars, and in France, Barbe-Nicole (Haley Bennett), has just buried Francois (Tom Sturridge), her husband. She is in her widow’s weeds, which she wears throughout the film, not exactly because of mourning, but black seems to be the predominant color of the merchant class she belongs to. Her accountant is the only one who wears colorful dress, and since he comes from the city, he doesn’t count. Nor does Barbe-Nicole. It’s made clear that she can’t possibly run a vineyard by herself. And her father, along with the competition, is ready to offer her a good price.

No, says, Barbe-Nicole, I’ll run the vineyard myself.

This is the bit of feminist undertone to the story, but it’s subtle and not banging the drum. The marriage of Barbe-Nicole and Francois is shown in loving and carefree flashbacks…at first. He is enthusiastic about Voltaire and wine, and appears like a Candide cultivating his own garden. Francois inducts Barbe-Nicole into making wine. He begins with the soil. Francois reaches her to cherish the right soil and water. He smiles and insists she sing to the plants and help them grow. She learns that wine is not merely a commodity, it is a gift of the land. Being a sacred harvest, from the reverence to Bacchus to its use in Christianity, the making of a superior vintage is fulfillment and continuity of life and soil. Barbe-Nicole takes to this.

Francois speaks to her of this when they are in bed, under the sheets. When a widow in her veil, the secrets of winemaking stay with her. Covered sheets, veils, and wearing black offer a visual sign of a holy calling.

Barbe-Nicole’s calling becomes making a superior champagne. She devotes herself to the task, sending Clementine, her daughter, to a seminary as she prepares a wine lab to experiment and create a new kind of champagne free of sediment. The table with glasses, jugs, fire, and notebooks make Barbe-Nicole a Madame Curie of the grape. The film is very good showing this without going into minute detail, and Bennett’s performance creates a balance between devotion and tenacity.

Her voice-overs are thoughtful, and a melancholy score by Bryce Dessner adds passion, as does the splendid cinematography. Brilliant scenes such as a night shot when the hills fill with blazing pots needed to save the crop from frost, add to the story.

In 1811, a comet encourages her to release her product, stamped with a comet on its bottles, a “comet vintage” that meets with success. It’s pleasant that this comet, so noted by Tolstoy to herald awful tidings for Russia, blesses Barbe-Nicole.

Barbe-Nicole deals with men. She has to. A guide to her success is Louis (Sam Reilly), a wine seller attracted to her. One problem is her managing the help. She wants to be equal. Louis and other men urge her to be stern, rule, not cooperate. She doesn’t like this.

In a sense, while this takes place in Napoleonic France, Barbe-Nicole’s methods recall the French Revolution and its calls for equality. Napoleon is in the background, his continental blockade an impediment to her business. She does what any good capitalist would do: she smuggles her goods to other countries to get a good price and reputation.

A crisis in the film is seen over the hill of the vineyards as cannon fire plumes up; after Napoleon’s disastrous Russian invasion of 1812, the Russians return the favor and invade France. There is a real fear that the vineyards will be destroyed. They aren’t, and in fact the Russians become a valuable ally as their aristocracy buys Barbe-Nicole’s stock.

The film develops the backstory of her life with Francois. Francois, for all his charm and decency, has mental problems and is addicted to barbiturates. Barbe-Nichole deals with this, grows, keeping the finer points of Francois in her life and work on perfecting the wine. The vine and soil overcome human failings. In fact, Barbe-Nicole wore black all her life and never re-married. Why? She had the vineyard, and as for a husband, for many women, once is enough.

A final confrontation comes when a loophole states a woman can’t own a business, thanks to the Napoleonic code. She faces the judges in a stark courtroom where everyone is in black. She ably defends herself. Louis offers an out by proposing to her, but Barbe-Nicole prefers to fight her own battle to offer her wine to the world, and the brand Veuve Clicquot is at the top of French wine and champagne.

It’s a small, intimate film. The cast offers a rounded, full performance. Haley Bennett gives a deadpan performance that unlocks the skill, innovation, and the quiet passion her character develops for wine and perfecting it. Her monologues are thoughtful. Her scenes with Sturridge and Riley are underplayed and have an edge, whether with Louis’s poetic and troubled life and Louis’s earthier manner.

As my earlier review compared The Matrix and Ich Klage An in the contrast between big budget and a human story, I would almost recommend the reader to watch this film with the recent 2023 Ridley Scott’s Napoleon, a big-budget historical epic that, while I found it enjoyable, had problems dealing with its subject.

I was also reminded of many films about Hitler and Nazis that seem to flounder in clichés. Maybe a better example of the era is the 2019 film A Hidden Life, dealing with Franz Jaegerstaetter, a farmer who became conscientious objector, the cinematography of the Alps almost making them supporting characters. Franz, like Barbe-Nicole, is a small character but a worthy commoner.

I would compare Napoleon, with his plans for empire and glory, in contrast to Barbe-Nicole, immersed in the soil and bringing its wine to fruition. While Napoleon marches, Barbe-Nicole learns to sing to the vineyard. This is a leaner, more encompassing story of man, soil, and continuity. Again, referring to Voltaire, cultivating one’s own garden. Isn’t a garden preferable to an empire? A good question as the American empire seems to be weaving and wobbling.

America needs many things. A bottle of Veuve Clicquot would be a good start.