Widow Clicquot
At the dawn of the 19th century, it was arranged that the 19 year-old Barbe-Nicole Ponsardin (Haley Bennett, "The Girl on the Train") marry François Clicquot (Tom Sturridge, "Far From the Madding Crowd"), the son of a winemaking family in the champagne region. A passion developed between the two, not only for each other, but for creating fine champagnes, François’s advanced views embracing his wife as a full partner. But setbacks and illiberal ideas threatened the family business when at age 27, Barbe-Nicole became the “Widow Clicquot.”
Laura's Review: B
Seeing as how Robin and I, lovers of the bubbly, spent our honeymoon in the Champagne region of France, this adaptation of Tilar J. Mazzeo's book (adapted by “Land’s” Erin Dignam) was not only a draw, but revealed a hole in our champagne knowledge. With “Holy Motors” cinematographer Caroline Champetier alternating between dark, shadowy interiors and magic hour vineyard scenes, director Thomas Napper has turned the whole into a historical feminist romantic triangle that satisfies on several levels.
After a proposal crosscut with funeral preparations, we see the new widow resist her father-in-law Phillipe’s (Ben Miles) deal to sell the vineyards for her and his 7 year-old grandchild Clementine’s (Cecily Cleeve) benefit, stating that she intends to carry on the business as François had wanted. A flashback reveals François surprising his new bride, first humbly stating that he is probably not what she had pictured, then laying out his radical ideas about their future. He is awed by her affinity for his family’s business, Barbe-Nicole seemingly born to coax the best out of their vineyards.
Throughout almost the entirety of his film, Napper cuts between the widowed and married Barb-Nicole, gradually revealing a much darker attribute of her marriage, yet one which does not diminish her love for her husband. In the present day, failures, such as her illegal gambit to outrun Napoleon’s blockage, continue, but Barb-Nicole comes up with two revolutionary ideas – she creates pink champagne and figures out how to not only get sediment to settle, but how to remove it (she also shows gratitude to her field workers, probably not the norm with her male counterparts). When her wine seller Louis (Sam Riley, "Control") sells her 1811 Comet vintage to the Tsar, he declares it the best he’s ever had and sales finally take off, but jealous fellow vintners cannot sabotage her, they try taking her to court, claiming she’s violated the Napoleonic Code about women owning businesses.
Bennett plays Barbe-Nicole as a sober businesswoman but joyful lover, sharing different kinds of chemistry with Sturridge, the doomed, Voltaire quoting romantic, and Riley, the flirtatious business colleague. The only other women of any significance in the film are Cleeve, the daughter who is used more as plot point than character, and “American Psycho’s” Cara Seymour who briefly appears as Barbe-Nicole’s mother. Anson Boon (“1917”) is a plus as Barbe’s young and loyal accountant Edouard, an important ally during her trial.
There are a few moments when Napper tips the scales into bodice-ripping melodrama, one scene depicting mental illness played like something out of “Twilight,” but overall “Widow Clicquot” is a complex portrait of a woman ahead of her time, something Napper celebrates with Barbe’s last line of dialogue, a corker of an ending.
Robin's Review: B+
In the early 1800s, the champagne-producing house Clicquot changed hands from father to son, Francois (Tom Sturridge), and his young wife Barbe-Nicole (Haley Bennett). The young man fell ill and, shortly later, died. Because of restrictive French laws, a woman cannot own or run a business, except for one loophole used by “Widow Clicquot.”
I have been a feminist most of my adult life, not a bad thing for an old, white, Anglo-Saxon guy. So, when I am given the chance to see a pro-femme true story about the lady who made champagne the favored celebration beverage it is, I am all over it.
Haley Bennett stands out as the titular widow, which translates to “veuve” in French. Young Barbe-Nicole, when Francois died too soon, should have gone quietly into the night and let her home and business go to greedy men. Instead, she learned the wine-making business and threw herself, literally, into her work – even toiling in the vineyard and tending the grapes with her laborers.
The supporting cast, particularly Sturridge as Francois and Sam Riley as the wine salesman working the potential champagne market, are convincing characters. Watching the highs and lows the business goes through and the widow’s determination to succeed makes this an inspirational femme-centric story.
There are actually two stories, or battles, going on here. One is Barbe-Nicole’s fight to keep what is rightly hers as the men dominating the wine business rub their hands in anticipation of taking over the lucrative Clicquot vineyards. The men are not prepared for the irresistible force against them – a diminutive but determined woman.
The part I like best about the widow’s story is how, after Francois’s death, she immersed herself into continuing the wine business by making the product better. The innovative widow created the first pink champagne – in a process that is still use today – and figured out how to clarify her fine wine. Veuve Clicquot has been around ever since as one of the best champagnes. (It is.)
I think about the world of men and women a lot and what has transpired over the last 4000 or so years. In that time, man has screwed up the environment, society and, quite literally, the world, Over those four millennia, woman have been second- even third-class citizens until 1920 and the ratification of the 19th amendment to the Constitution. Since that time, women have become the predominant gender of the work force, runs most of the country’s middle management and, admit it, are smarter than men. A story like the widow Clicquot’s proves to me, yet again, that women will do a better (and more humane) job than men, given the chance.
Vertical Releasing opens "Widow Clicquot" in theaters on 7/19/24.
