The entire “interlude in the country” genre of filmmaking baffles me—and the Provence subgenre even more. Almost without exception, such films seem to document the effects of “the good life” without communicating a thing about what that good life actually feels like. Perhaps that’s because any filmmaker worth a fig knows that, French provincialism aside, truly languid films about the flavor of langour bore even country hermits to tears.

Where did I become familiar with the tropes of cinematic Provence conventions?  I’m not sure; the pages of Cineaste or Film Comment, perhaps, because when I actually research the subgenre (as I did not when I wrote the above in reviewing Ridley Scott’s A Good Year), I find that I’ve seen precious few of them.

And if I’ve seen precious few of them, I rather imagine you’ve most likely seen fewer, and are consequently far less concerned with redundancy than am I!

That’s good news for The Grocer’s Son—and more to the point, good news for you, as the film is just being released this month by the monthly-DVD subscription service Film Movement.

Synopsis

The film tells the story of Antoine, a disaffected 30-something Provence expatriate, barely employed and ensconced in a dismal Paris flat.  When his grocer father has a catastrophic illness, Antoine gets thrown back into the dysfunctional family he wanted so desperately to leave behind.  However, he sees the crisis as an opportunity to woo his student-neighbor Claire—so he invites her out to Provence for, yes, an interlude in the country: she can study while his father recuperates, and while he tends the mobile part of his folks’ two-bit grocery business.

Soon, Antoine learns from Claire how to enjoy the quaint folk and pace of Provence—and we learn how Antoine came to be so emotionally stunted.

Director Eric Guirado gives us pretty much what we expect of both the Provence and the Liberating Goddess conventions. Claire, for instance, seems unnaturally perfect in every conceivable way—she’s creative, she’s smart, she’s gorgeous, she’s got the build of a supermodel who stopped worrying about her hip measurements, she’s got the disposition of an angel, and she’s sexually open enough to move the plot forward—which sure helps in loosening up Antoine, and in keeping audience interest from flagging until he does so.  And, of course, we get to see a great many stunning Provence landscapes as Guirado’s camera follows Antoine and Claire from mobile shopsite to mobile shopsite.

Guirado is also adept at communicating conflicts and thematic shifts visually—which is good, as the film is in subtitled French.  As the color drains out of Antoine’s life, or as he finally gets down to cleaning house in a major way, we can be glad that Guirado avoids heavy-handed dialogue to let us know.  The approach culminates subtly when Antoine learns that when you pray for others, you pray for yourself, too.

Antoine is not the only who benefits from Claire’s graces.  As the story progresses, reconciliation comes to the whole clan, as they become more than just a family that “gets by.”  Early on, Antoine advises his mother that “it’s never too late to change your life”—and she learns that such pocketbook wisdom is more than just “youth talking,” as she puts it.  Antoine himself grows into something nobler than the mere grocer’s son that once annoyed the locals, and even discovers—with Claire’s help—how to make his own wishes… and see them fulfilled in modest ways.

You might correctly guess that there’s nothing really new going on with this story; but the central motif of Antoine’s broken-down delivery van, and the family grocery setting itself, breathe fresh life into what otherwise might be tired clichés, both verbal and visual.  Guirado’s cast performs admirably, and by the end you won’t mind so much that Claire is more a plot device than a person.  If you’re comfortable with the slower pace of the country—or perhaps just in need of it—Guirado’s Provence vision will be very, very welcome.

The DVD packaging is pretty minimalist.  There are no special features of any note, and the menuing system is rudimentary—almost homebrew in feel.  Each month, though, Film Movement packages a short film with its DVD release, and the 12-minute One Weekend A Month—a moment of crisis in the life of a National Guard single mom—is well worth seeing, if rather open-ended.

Rating

The Grocer’s Son is unrated.  There are some adult-ish situations, as you might expect with a Provence Romance, and even in translation Antoine’s family engages in some rather salty talk.  It’s tempting to call this PG material, but PG-13 would be more prudent, for those scattered, translated four-letter words alone.  One Weekend A Month is also not particularly appropriate for children.

Courtesy of FilmMovement.com, Greg screened a promotional DVD of "The Grocer’s Son."

Greg Wright is Managing Editor of both Past the Popcorn and Hollywood Jesus.  An ordained pastor, Greg is the author of Tolkien In Perspective: Sifting the Gold from the Glitter (2003) and Peter Jackson in Perspective: The Power Behind Cinema’s The Lord of the Rings (2004).  A widely-known lecturer on Tolkien, Lewis, film, and fantasy, Greg resides in the Seattle area with his precious wife Jenn and their two cats, Grynne and Bearrett.