Slow moving films are not for everyone.  Even I can get caught up in a dragging narrative.  When this happens, I get frustrated, wondering where the plot is going.  At that point, everything becomes silly to me.  With each passing minute, the story unwinds and I am tempted to shut it off.  Still, if you can stick with something, you might be surprised.  There is a metaphor for Faith in there, but today I am talking about Widow Clicquot (2023), a movie I have noticed on Netflix for a while.  Every time I have landed on its tile and watched the preview, I have told myself all the clichés about plodding tales already mentioned.  However, today I gave it a shot and I am reasonably glad that I did.

The last thing that Widow Clicquot, Barbe-Nicole Clicquot (Haley Bennett), feels is gladness.  We begin with her on a terrible day: the funeral of her beloved husband, François Clicquot (Tom Sturridge).  Before going any further, I must address the fact that the film is told in a non-linear fashion.  As such, I will be smoothing things out in order to contextualize this opening scene.  François owns a vineyard in Napoleonic France.  His methods for growing, harvesting, mixing, and selling the vintage are a bit different.  For example, he believes that him and his new wife, Barbe, should sing to the vines.  Early on, it is meant to be a sign of their love for one another.  Later, it speaks to his tenuous grip on reality.  That other aspects of their relationship are non-traditional is found in the close friendship he has with their wine distributor, Louis Bohne (Sam Riley).  At one point, Barbe admits that she feels as close to him as does François.  For now, though, they start and family and everything seems to be going well in spite of some struggles with the product.  However, he cannot remain “calm,” as they refer to what he needs to become when he has his fits.  Eventually, it proves too much for him and he takes his life.  After he is buried, his father, Philippe Clicquot (Ben Miles), thinks that Barbe should sell the property to Jean-Rémy Moët (Nicholas Farrell), and yes, that Moët.  For all François’ faults, he had been adamant that Barbe remain in control of the business.  When it is put to her that she should agree to the terms, she insists that her late husband’s wishes are honored.  She also understands that it will take money and hard work, all of which she is willing to put in to be successful.  She does so despite continually being haunted by memories of François, which is how we get the disjointed picture of what their life together had been like.  There are a few steadying influences.  One of the first is Edouard Werle (Anson Boon), Philippe’s accountant, who visits Barbe a few days after the funeral.  He has come to deliver the sobering numbers to the new owner as a way of convincing her of the hopelessness of her situation, but he is impressed enough to leave the log books with her.  The other ally is Louis.  In order to make up for previous losses and turn an eventual profit, they simply need to sell.  Louis is a willing participant in this endeavor, but there is a problem.  In Napoleonic France, their emperor, Napoleon (not pictured), has placed an embargo on all exports and imports in and out of continental Europe as part of his ongoing war against France’s enemies.  As somebody who produces a product in demand around the world, this makes doing business difficult.  Nonetheless, she has come up with a way of circumventing the embargo, and Louis has agreed to oversee the transport.  Unfortunately, the champagnes and wines on which Barbe had worked so hard spoil in the summer heat, leading to a total loss.  Not long thereafter, she faces renewed calls from Philippe to accept the earlier offers.  She pleads with her former father-in-law, invoking his son’s name and reminding Philippe of what François wanted.  She is given one more chance.  To make the best of it, she sells whatever she can.  Still, not too long thereafter, Louis finally returns from his sales trip with some good news.  While the overwhelming majority of their product had been ruined, he managed to salvage a few bottles and sold them in Russia.  There are further orders for more of her vintage.  It provides hope, though Barbe is thankful in a way that this Catholic would rather she not demonstrate, and I will leave it at that description.  With everything she has been doing to perfect her champagnes and wines, she is now ready to make the most of her next harvest.  It leads to even greater profits, and she can finally pay her workers.  She is even able to survive the invasion of France following Napoleon’s downfall.  However, just as she is about to be settled into her business, she is summoned to court on charges that she broke the law with her distribution.  Not only are they questioning her methods, but the subject of her sex resurfaces.  Technically, a woman is not supposed to be a sole proprietor.  The first person to come to her defense is Edouard, who points out that the Napoleonic Code allows for widows to be in such a position.  Barbe also speaks for herself.  Yet, she admits to not knowing whether she is trying to remain unmarried simply for the sake of keeping the business to herself.  The person who comes in to clear up everything is Louis.  In front of everyone gathered, he offers marriage and she refuses.  With a small, knowing smile between them, the film ends.

That smile at the end of Widow Clicquot is evidence that they understand that Louis’ gesture is meant to be symbolic.  Nobody knows the true state of their feelings for one another.  When we see them in private, Louis cautions against getting involved with another.  Then again, he goes through with their tryst, and this Catholic is left wishing that they had gotten married.  After all, it is clear that had they been wedded, things would have continued on the vineyard as they had since François died.  What we are treated to is a woman who, though she does not see her struggle in Christian terms, bears them as God would ask us to do.  First, she mourns her husband.  That is proper, but it does not overwhelm her.  We are created to feel things like sadness when we lose a loved one, but to also experience everything else that life brings us.  To this end, there are some practical ways in which Barbe looks at her situation.  It applies to her difficulties with the vineyard, but they can also be used to talk about how to live our lives.  First, she says that we must not dwell on the uncontrollable.  There is a note of surrender here.  God gives us the present to influence, hopefully for His greater glory, and everything else is in His hands.  Next, when presented with failure, she says that we need to try again, think differently, and work on what is in front of us.  This dovetails nicely with not fixating on factors beyond us.  We can only respond to things with the abilities God gave us, but additionally we do not need to keep trying the same solution.  In God’s infinite wisdom, He has provided us with a mind capable of dynamic thought.  We see Barbe apply all these things to her business.  However, the best part comes when she asserts that struggle leads to better results.  In Christian terms, we say that challenges help us grow, and that is a fitting metaphor for a film about producing grapes.

Is all this enough to produce a recommendation from me for Widow Clicquot?  As I mentioned in the introduction, it is a slow-moving production, so if that is not your cinematic cup of tea, you may want to avoid this one.  There are some other problems, but otherwise it is a solid piece of cinema.