Evening star., 1940-10-16

other words, it's the rare must"
raised to at least the 18th power.
1t is a spicy tale, told with inf
mite drollery, this one Of a simple
village baker whose wife ran away
with an irresistible shepherd. No
routine case of infldelity is it. for M.
Pagnol's version of Jean Giono's
novel goes on to show that such q
seemingly inconsequential moral
lapse can have devastating social
consequences. Bread is the staff Of
life, he repeats, and proves it by
showing how the grieving baker let
his oven fires go out, how the bread
less community was desolated, how
the transcendent crisis shook the
entire village out of its centuries-old
way of life.
Each thread of the story is ex-
quisitely developed; that of the
baker in his new relation to deity,
his civic duty to provide the COM
munity with bread, his old high
moral standards which placed such
store by stern sobriety. Then there
is the story of the Marquis, whose
solicitude for his three "nieces" is
exceeded only by his solicitude for
the horse upon which the shepherd
and his mistress rode away. And, of
the padre, who seized the occasion
as one by which he might propag gate
anew the failing faith of his flock,
with special attention to the griev-
ing baker.
Each of the villagers is affected
in some way by the detection of
the bakers wife, affected to a de-
gree that the whole energy Of the
community must be directed toward
finding and returning her to the de-
serted pillow in the bakers lonely
bed.
If there are passages that move
slowly by conventional movie stand
ards, they are so designed that none
of their rich, earthly SAVIOR may be
lost. M. Pagnol builds carefully,
always around the acting genius of
the incompatible Raimu, who rarely
is missing from the story's move
ment for more than a few minutes.
He builds not merely toward an un-
forgettable total experience, but to-
ward a dozen and one details that
should remain in memory forever.
Among the individual passages
which stand out are the bakers
first refusal-never totally surren-
dered-to believe in his wife's un-
faithfulness; his magniflcently pam
tomimed amazement while he listens
to the padres sermon based upon
his personal tragedy; his refusal to
bake for the villagers while he is
busy being deceived" and most
especially the scenes in which he de-
cides to drink himself into forget
fulness and the later one in which
he welcomes his wife home.
The screen has never been so saw
agely ironic as in the latter pas
sage. And, if it ever has been
more funny than when the lonely
baker sits down to his bottle of
Pernod as prelude to philosophic
monologue on life and marriage, it
is not mentioned in the recorded
history of the cinema.
H* x*
John Erskine has written the sub
titles which translate the hilarious
dialogue of "The Bakers Wife" He
has done 1t with an excellence
which compensates for any degree
of neglect one may have shown in
learning the native French of M.
Pagnol and his great array of actors.
True. nuance may be missed here
and there, but its effect is neglible.
1t is impossible to conceive of
"The Bakers Wife" without Raimu
in the role of the baker. AS the
simple, logical, iercely loyal, CROP
ing, tender and betrayed husband,
he gives a performance that is un-
failingly fascinating. He deserves
to live as the subject of the movie
that gives promise of being ageless
because its theme is universal and
it's treatment so masterful. So do
the others, in their lesser ways, for
their sharply etched portraits Of
men and women whose need for
bread was so great that the inf1delity
of one mans wife was social ca
tastrophe - the funniest one in
movie history.