Potiche Blu-ray Review
What is it with Deneuve and umbrellas anyway?
Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman, July 19, 2011
Here's some unsolicited advice to Hollywood (and indeed international) actresses of a certain age, those who find themselves visiting plastic surgeons or Botox emporiums repeatedly until they're virtually unrecognizable as a member of the human species: take a look at one Catherine Deneuve. Yes, she's probably preternaturally blessed with an incredible set of genes, but like several other European actresses, she's let herself
age. What a refreshing change of pace. So she's put on a few pounds, and her blonde hair doesn't quite glisten with its youthful élan. So what? She's still incredibly gorgeous, and she still frankly looks like a million bucks despite currently creeping up on 70 years. This iconic actress who seemed to personify French chic in the 1960's has managed to create one memorable character after another rather early in her career in such disparate fare as
Repulsion, Belle du Jour and those two inimitable Jacques Demy musicals
Les Parapluies de Cherbourg and
Les Demoiselles de Rochefort, and then just kept going with such memorable films as
Indochine (for which she received an Academy Award nomination) and
The Hunger. If
Potiche isn't exactly Deneuve's most demanding role, it's a sweet natured and gently funny little film that manages to poke and prod several sex role stereotypes, not to mention the French national obsession with sex generally, all the while not really running away from the fact that it's dealing with people of a certain age who probably should all know better by now.
Perhaps at least part of the reason for Deneuve's longevity and ability to allow herself to age naturally on screen is the simple fact that she was never
merely a sex symbol. Deneuve's early work, while obviously full of incredible allure and an almost mystical beauty, was also highlighted by unusual intelligence and depth of characterization. This was a beauty with a
brain, in other words, and it's interesting to note that that's part of the subtext of
Potiche. The word "potiche" literally refers to a decorative vase, but has attained a colloquial status of "trophy wife," and Deneuve's character Suzanne Pujol in
Potiche is sick of being a pretty wind-up doll unable to voice her opinion or do anything other than bake cookies in her well appointed kitchen (her husband makes a point of mentioning how spoiled she is, to which Suzanne replies that, yes, she's the Queen of Kitchen Appliances).
In what is probably merely a coincidental reference to Deneuve's iconic role in Demy's
Les Parapluies de Cherbourg, Suzanne Pujol is the daughter of a magnate who founded a huge umbrella factory, a factory which her officious husband Robert (Fabrice Luchini) has made over in his extremely uptight, high blood pressure image. Unfortunately for Robert, he's managing an activist set of employees who are rife with what he thinks is a Communist ideology, and soon his workers have started a strike and even worse, taken Robert himself as hostage. That sets Suzanne up to not only be savior of the immediate situation, but to discover her own voice and self worth in the process.
Despite its rather overt sociopolitical screed-like elements,
Potiche is at its core a farce, one built around a cascading series of subtly changing interrelationships, aided and abetted by the fact that the rabble rouser Suzanne turns to for help in freeing her husband, Mayor Maurice Babin (Gérard Depardieu), was a long ago lover of hers. On the flip side, Robert has been dallying with his no-nonsense secretary Nadège (Karin Viard), readying the territory for an intertwined series of events where no one seems to be happy in their current state of affairs, but can't quite bring themselves to commit to anything new, either.
Potiche is best in its smallest elements. The opening sequence, where Suzanne encounters a series of woodland animals and reacts to them like some kind of neo-modern Snow White, is both odd and just slightly surreal, almost echoing Deneuve's vaunted work with Luis Buñuel. And, later, when her daughter Joelle (Judith Godrèche) shows up, one is instantly struck by her Farrah Fawcett hairdo, one which some viewers may find bizarrely reminiscent of Kristin Wiig's in
MacGruber. While its female empowerment scenario may strike some as old hat, with Deneuve's masterful interpretation it actually seems at least relatively fresh and most certainly very enjoyable. And the rather sweet interplay between Deneuve and Depardieu, who by now have a handful of collaborations between them, is palpable, if in its own way as bizarre as those Fawcett hairdos. After all, what could a ravishing beauty like Deneuve see in a bear like Depardieu? Ah, well, opposites attract.
If Buñuel found a dark and even slightly lunatic side to Deneuve's sexuality in one of her most iconic roles in
Belle du Jour,
Potiche's director François Ozon dials things back ever so slightly from the Buñuel surreality, while at the same time amping up the absurdist content, at least at times. It's rather odd, then, that
Potiche becomes surprisingly serious in its third act, when Suzanne decides that her newfound voice may provide her some political opportunity. While this aspect of the film is still played ostensibly lightly, it makes the soufflé just slightly heavier than it was before, if no less tasty. Still it's a bit peculiar that two thirds of this film concentrates on the seesawing power structure between Suzanne and Robert at the umbrella factory, and then kind of cavorts off onto this tangent, albeit one linked with the overarching theme of Suzanne discovering herself.
While the shortcomings of the original play upon which
Potiche is based can't entirely be avoided, there's a lot that can be said for star power, and that's what this film has in abundance. If the material is sometimes less than scintillating, somehow in the able hands of Deneuve and Depardieu, as well as a game supporting cast, it often seems better than it actually is. Ozon proved himself a rather facile handler of pastiche in
8 Women, another film featuring Deneuve, and he brings that same craft to
Potiche. The film is bright, colorful and
just this side of camp, but it's also slyly self-deprecating and pleasantly unironic. This "trophy wife" may not indeed have won first prize, but it's certainly a worthy contender.
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