The Baker's Wife (1938)

 Marcel Pagnol's "The Baker's Wife"

"The Baker's Wife" marks my last venture into the work of scriptwriter and director Marcel Pagnol. There is a lot that can be said about this famous Frenchman. His writing allows you to spend immense time with everyday people. The dialogue seeps with domestic woes and common vernacular. Pagnol was a true poetic realist. I can undoubtedly see the merits in his work and understand its important place amongst 1930s French cinema. That being said, I tend to find the works too long for their respective subject matters. I always tend to start really becoming invested in the story and the lives of the characters in the very beginning. However, once I reach three quarters of the way through the film, I find myself fatigued. Obviously, I can see the merits of what I'm watching. However, I might not be in the right place in my life at the moment to find an immediate connection to the work. 

"The Baker's Wife" is no different. Looking back at the story in retrospect, I find myself admiring Raimu's baker and the entire ensemble of villagers. Their problems and their determination to comfort the cuckhold baker has found its way into my sentiments. I think that's where the film works, retrospectively. "The Baker's Wife" will now just be a memory for me. A memory of a town, its people, and their collective tenderness towards a distraught man. In this way, I can appreciate the film. In this way, through the realms of some half-remembered memory, "The Baker's Wife" lives and reminds me of the possibility of togetherness and unity.