Don’t Expect Thorns in ‘The Rose Maker’: Comfort, Comedy Rule This Arrangement
What is it about French feel-good movies that make them preferable to the homegrown variety? Certainly, American films based on French comedies tend, on the whole, to be a sorry lot.
“Creating roses,” according to director Pierre Pinaud, “is one of our French specialties, just like perfume and gastronomy.”
The latter two are familiar to Americans, if only through broad caricatures of French culture seen in mass media. But roses? Those of us who aren’t Francophiles or, for that matter, horticulturalists will find instructive Mr. Pinaud’s second feature, “The Rose Maker.”
Instructive, that is, and charming. What is it about French feel-good movies that make them preferable to the homegrown variety? Certainly, American films based on French comedies tend, on the whole, to be a sorry lot.
Perhaps, it’s simplicity of affect — a willingness to let humor (and sentiment) arise organically from a given plot or character, an inherent tendency to let gags disperse rather than sell a laugh. There’s no shunting of native temperaments in art or in life.
Catherine Frot is Eve Vernet, a headstrong woman of a certain age whose glory days as an innovator in the breeding of roses are behind her. The family business, begun by Eve’s father, is on its last legs, mired in debt and understaffed. Her longtime assistant, the dour and dutiful Vera (Olivia Côte), goes behind Eve’s back and hires a trio of temporary workers culled from a prison rehabilitation program. None of them have a green thumb, but they do have other skills that prove useful.
All of which is played against a potential corporate takeover. Lamarzelle (the wiry Vincent Dedienne) is the CEO of a competing and very big floral concern — think Walmart, but with roses. Although he isn’t without a sense of aesthetics, Lamarzelle’s prime motivator is the bottom line.
He wheedles his way through the plot, eager to take over Eve’s land and goes so far as to offer her a job. Mademoiselle Vernet, the unyielding artisan and independent spirit, won’t have any of it.
And so “The Rose Maker” goes. The story pretty much hews to a tried-and-true formula: the requisite twists, turns, disasters, and obstacles are set up, overcome, and resolved with a tidy flourish. Mr. Pinaud, who co-wrote the script with Fadette Drouard, is less concerned with upending our expectations than in gratifying them. Innovation couldn’t interest him less. Comfort is the goal.
Having said that, the milieu in which “The Rose Maker” takes place has its share of idiosyncrasies. Like any subculture, the world of rose breeding comes with a distinct set of rules, standards of conduct, and specialized rituals. Watching Eve surgically remove a smattering of seeds from an illicitly paired grafting is to gain access into a rarefied world most of us are oblivious to. Mr. Pinaud films the scene with tenderness.
Yet “The Rose Maker” is a comedy. Transportive moments such as the one above are punctuated by droll bouts of cursing, cynicism, and bafflement. Eve’s ungainly crew of amateurs — Fred (Melan Omerta), Samir (Fatsah Bouyahmed), and Nadège (Marie Petiot) — regularly makes a hash of her pretensions. All the same, the ex-cons learn and grow, as does our heroine. Cue the warm and fuzzies.
The cast is uniformly solid. Mr. Bouyahmed and Ms. Petiot make the most of characters who are little more than one-dimensional stooges. Mr. Omerta has the most fully realized back-story among the supporting cast: His transition from hoodlum to something more is handled deftly. Ms. Frot, at the center of things, makes Eve a hero without sacrificing her audacity or arrogance.
Those with a taste for all things French will enjoy “The Rose Maker.”
__________
Correction: Pinaud is the last name of the film director. An earlier version of this article contained an incorrect name.