The primary flowers to grace the opening credit of this light French comedy are white roses in full bloom. Their petals are unblemished, and their milky hue appears luminous, a reminder that what seems to be white is a mirrored image of all colours. Horticulturists realize it’s not simple to develop an ideal rose, and that precept will turn into the cornerstone of the plot in “The Rose Maker.” The movie signifies its cinematic dedication with the perfection of those first roses — their virtually surprising vibrancy complimented by a jovial Dean Martin tune. It’s simple for characters to say they develop such a flower, and one other achievement completely for filmmakers to search out one to show onscreen.
Narratively, these unparalleled blooms belong to Eve (Catherine Frot), a rose cultivator who has inherited her household’s prestigious farm. But regardless of Eve’s boutique care, industrial farms promote extra roses and win extra prizes, whereas Eve struggles to maintain her small enterprise afloat. Eve is susceptible to pessimism, however her trustworthy secretary, Véra (Olivia Côte), hires three pairs of serving to arms to revitalize the farm. At first Eve protests, however quickly she bonds together with her novice, even miscreant workers, enlisting them first in a heist to seize a uncommon rose, after which within the delicate efforts to develop fields descended from this stolen blossom.
The director Pierre Pinaud doesn’t pressure the excessive jinks for stomach laughs, nor does he push for tears in terms of forging the cross-class bonds between his characters. It’s a relaxed movie, one that permits the viewers to take a seat again and, if not scent the roses, then not less than respect them. Simply as they’re for Eve, the flowers are this movie’s raison d’être — a reminder that glimpsing magnificence is purpose sufficient.
The Rose Maker
Not rated. In French, with subtitles. Working time: 1 hour 35 minutes. In theaters.