In the cinematic world of “Widow Clicquot,” the elixirs at Barbe-Nicole’s vineyard unfold much like the tale itself—slowly, revealing deeper layers of complexity. Initially appearing as a sweet story of love and determination, it soon transforms into a nuanced drama that explores ambition and the complexities of marriage. While its 89-minute duration may seem short, the film delivers a substantive narrative that leaves an impression, though it may not quite achieve the richness to carve out a lasting legacy.
Centered around the history of the iconic champagne brand Veuve Clicquot, “Widow Clicquot” arrives at a time when biopics about brands are on the rise. While not a traditional commercial, the film indirectly enhances the brand’s image, a common byproduct of such cinematic endeavors.
Erin Dignam’s screenplay, based on Tilar J. Mazzeo’s biography and crafted with “personal guidance from the brand’s archivist,” elevates the familiar yellow label to symbolize enduring love, female empowerment, and even cutting-edge technological progress—albeit viewed through the lens of history. Unlike more contemporary brand origin tales, such as those of Air, BlackBerry, or Flamin’ Hot, which reflect our current corporate culture, “Widow Clicquot” exudes the romanticism of a costume drama.
The story commences with François’ funeral in 1805, leaving Barbe-Nicole overwhelmed by grief. Her world is shaken when her father-in-law, Philippe, reveals plans to sell her late husband François’ vineyards to Claude Möet. Determined to preserve François’ passion project, Barbe-Nicole pleads to retain the vineyards and continue his quest to perfect the art of winemaking. “Widow Clicquot” chronicles her journey, interweaving memories of her time with François.
As is customary in biopics, the question isn’t whether she’ll succeed, but rather, how and what her success means on a broader scale. Barbe-Nicole faces numerous challenges from the outset, including adverse weather, financial difficulties, and Napoleon’s stringent trade embargo, which the film navigates with the efficiency of a Wikipedia page. However, her most formidable obstacle is her gender, as men, from her father-in-law to her workers to her competitors, question her abilities and challenge her authority.
The film’s portrayal of 19th-century feminism, characterized as a “girl boss” version, may come across as overly straightforward, with a sympathetic heroine and antagonists who openly declare, “She, a woman, is not capable of running this vineyard.” The script lacks nuance or ambivalence in Barbe-Nicole’s feelings about her own status.
In contrast, the film’s depiction of Barbe-Nicole’s personal life is more complex and captivating. The couple’s mutual affection is palpable from the beginning, with flashbacks revealing their deep love. While their marriage isn’t based on love at first sight, Barbe-Nicole is enchanted by François, an unconventional gentleman who quotes Voltaire, serenades his grapes, and pens passionate love letters describing their union as “the secret to perfect happiness.” François, in turn, is moved by her warmth and openness, delighted by her swift grasp of winemaking under his guidance.
However, as Barbe-Nicole persists in fulfilling François’ dream, her memories take on a weightier, sadder, and more complex tone. The film portrays François’ descent into erratic and violent behavior due to untreated mental illness, contrasting sharply with their idyllic early days. Haley Bennett’s sensitive performance effectively conveys Barbe-Nicole’s growing anguish and fear, both for and of François. Bryce Dessner’s bold score bridges the past and present by incorporating diegetic sounds, creating a symphony of stress that connects Barbe-Nicole’s present challenges with François’ past turmoil.
While the business aspects of “Widow Clicquot” are essential to the film’s existence, it is the exploration of Barbe-Nicole’s marriage that makes it truly worth watching. While Barbe-Nicole may grapple with the challenges of champagne production, such practical concerns cannot match the emotional intensity of her relationship with François.
Together, these elements construct a compelling and occasionally moving portrait of an accidental trailblazer. “When they struggle to survive, they become more reliant on their own strength,” Barbe-Nicole says of her grapevines. “They become more of what they were meant to be.”
This metaphor mirrors her own journey, as she perseveres through setbacks to become the world-renowned winemaker we know her to be. In the end, “Widow Clicquot” turns out to be a fairy-tale romance, not between Barbe-Nicole and François, but between Barbe-Nicole and the champagne empire that still bears her name.
