A (Very) Good Year in Provence

Sir Ridley Scott is most often identified with titles like the Alien series, Blade Runner, The Martian and on the smaller screen, A Good Wife and most recently The Man in the High Castle. As thoughtful and character-driven as his thrillers may be, he is known neither for comedy nor for sentiment.   These things are not normally attached to the name Russell Crowe either, but after a long working relationship, the two embarked on an unusual project in 2006 that has become rather a cult hit in the land of streaming.

A Good Year is a film adaptation of the same-named novel by Peter Mayle.  Mayle started as an advertising maven in the UK, wrote several sex ed books (including What's Happening to Me?, one of the titles presented to me by a collection of overly helpful relatives in my own pubescent years), and has since made a solid career of his literary travelogues about being an ex-pat living in the Luberon region of Provence, and the many colorful and truly hilarious characters and adventures he and his wife have met there.  Mayle's earlier books, A Year in Provence and Encore Provence emerged in the late 1980s and early '90s to a warm reception, international fame and the sorry result that this once quiet and remote region of southern France has since (even according to Mayle's own description) grown full of foreign landowners, hordes of tourists and all the traffic and changes that come with such an influx.  But c'est la vie.  At least we get to read about the paradise that used to be.

After several "real life" tomes, Mayle has written more novels in recent years, with mixed results.  This book, originally published in 2001, is a good read, if a bit far-fetched, and the film did an admirable job of capturing the best bits and presenting them in a most charming and re-watchable romp.

The premise seems time-honored (a scoundrel reforms), but with several twists:  Max, a hardened corporate jackass living and working in London, finds out that a beloved but estranged Uncle Henry has died and left him the vineyard and house in Provence where Max used to spend happy summers.  With trouble brewing at work, he takes the opportunity to pop southward to sell the estate and consider his options.  The wine produced by the estate is actually terrible, but there is a mysterious label, Le Coin Perdu (the lost coin), that is a legendary collector's item, and keeps popping into the story.  As one of the film's characters says, "Un petit mystery, n'est ce pas?"  There are inheritance quandaries, squabbles with the locals, and there is romance...  And in the end, Max learns to appreciate Provence for what he'd never understood before.  He may still be a jackass, but the change of scenery has a profound effect.

Part of the reason the film succeeds is that screenwriter Marc Klein's adaptation leaves out the thrillerific bits that muddy the waters of the original novel:  There are politics and secret wine auctions and the duplicitous attorney who conspires with the estate's vigneron (winemaker) and flirts with Max in order to get what she wants (in spite of the fact that she's actually a lesbian).  If you like that sort of thing, do read the book.  It's quite enjoyable.  But after three reads of the book (because I'm sort of a Mayle junkie) and several viewings of the film, I must admit to preferring the latter. Klein and the Scott Free team have placed the focus squarely on the characters and their journeys, not their individual decisions, and by simplifying the list of players, allowed us to connect more deeply with each one.

Making Max a clever but ruthless investor, rather than a hapless advertising guy who doesn't see his downfall coming, makes him less sympathetic from the start, but makes the cinematic journey into adulthood and humanity more dramatic still.  Crowe's portrayal of this insensitive but somehow redeemable bonehead is layered and sincere in all extremes -- when he is bad, he's very very bad, but once he wakes up, he's delightful.  Uncle Henry is larger than life played by the legendary Albert Finney, showing his rakish flaws as clearly as his deeply lovable qualities, and elevating the flashback to an artform with the help of a tween Freddie Highmore as Young Max.

In the book, Fanny is practically a footnote, if a happy one, but the expansion of her involvement allows for the introduction of the marvelous Marion Cotillard in the movie -- one of the first times most of the world had seen her.  As the scrappy and passionate vigneron, Didier Bourdon makes us all care about good wine, with grenache running through his veins and a twinkle in his eye.  Max's assistant, absent from the book but played by Archie Panjabi in the film, has almost a puppeteer's hold over her employer, highlighting his immaturity but thwacking him with her acerbic wit in a way that is clearly marked with fondness, as in "yeah, he's a jerk, but he's my jerk".  It's clearly the most important and realistic relationship Max has probably ever had with a woman up to that time.  Panjabi is fairly unforgettable in this role, and the producers apparently didn't forget her, either -- a few years later, they put her to work as A Good Wife's Kalinda, arguably one of the best roles on a very good show.

The film also allows other small roles to be fleshed out and realized with exceptional casting: a very young Abbie Cornish as the surprise cousin; Tom Hollander steals every scene (as usual) as the delightfully hedonistic best friend; Isabelle Candelier as the quirky housekeeper; and Rafe Spall as the "aggressive little flunky" (also missing from the book).  The directing, handled by Sir Ridley, is surefooted and confident through most of the film, and it's seems clear that the cast had a good time:  there's a lot of nudge-nudging and somewhat hammily throwing of selves into each moment.  But the over-the-top personalities make the quiet moments shimmer, and there are both outlandishness and subtlety to this film that make one wonder why we don't see more departures of this sort from a seasoned auteur who handles romantic comedy so well.  Perhaps this was rare passion project? Could it be that "Rid" and I share a favorite author?  Whatever the motivation, it's a well-crafted gem.

I don't want to give away too many spoilers.  Just see the film. Be sure to open a good bottle of wine and let it breathe first.  

A Good Year is currently on HBO Go/HBO Now (for another couple of weeks), but is also rentable from several streaming providers, including MGO, Google Play, Amazon Video, and Vudu.

Also available on DVD,  and for your next staycation, don't forget the deliciously weird soundtrack.

Don't forget to read the book!