Patricia (Astrid Berges-Frisbey) is the kindly and beautiful eldest daughter much beloved by her father, Pascal Amoretti (Daniel Auteuil), a rustic widower and well-digger toiling in Provence in the late 1930s. Fearful of losing his precious girl, Pascal encourages sweet-natured fellow well-digger Felipe (Kad Merad) to court Patricia which proves easy given his affable friend is hopelessly in love with the girl. But Patricia is already in love with Jacques (Nicholas Duvauchelle), handsome, womanizing son of wealthy local merchant Monsieur Mezel (Jean-Pierre Darroussin). When poor Felipe takes Patricia to an air show he inadvertently enables smooth-talking Jacques to seduce her. Shortly thereafter Jacques is called to serve in the Second World War and entrusts his mother (Sabine Azéma) to deliver a message to Patricia. But the snobby middle class woman destroys his letter leaving Patricia in despair, alone and pregnant much to her father's dismay.
Having had his first international success as ill-fated flower grower Ugolin in the landmark Marcel Pagnol adaptations Jean de Florette (1985) and Manon des Sources (1986) acclaimed French actor Daniel Auteuil here makes his directorial debut with this remake of another great work by the hugely influential playwright, novelist and filmmaker. Pagnol's original film in 1940 starred French comedy icon Fernandel in the role of Felipe opposite Josette Day, of La Belle et la Bête (1946) fame, as Patricia and was somewhat breezier whereas Auteuil's version is more somber albeit absorbing. Gorgeously shot by D.P. Jean-François Roland, The Well-Digger's Daughter retains the same bucolic splendour familiar from Claude Berri's celebrated Pagnol adaptations. Pagnol's devotion to French provincial life gave birth to what we know call heritage cinema. While derided in some quarters such poignantly prettified period pieces made many people fall in love with French film. Too often detractors overlook that beneath their surface beauty the stories woven by Pagnol are rigorous moral fables confronting the harsher aspects of life and the human condition.
Early on crusty patriarch Pascal remarks that Patricia "is not a daughter. She's a treasure from God." Therein the drama stems not solely from Patricia being used then callously cast aside by smarmy Jacques or shunned by his snooty, fiercely bourgeoisie parents but because Pascal perceives her as something otherworldly, an earthbound angel, and not as a woman. The moment she falls from pedestal she becomes a whore in his eyes. Stubborn old men are another fixture of Pagnol's universe. Pascal's belligerence and self-righteousness slowly transform him from a good man into a ranting monster whose bitterness alienates his loving daughters and drive him to increasingly ungracious behaviour. Auteuil however takes care to show those moments of wry humour and plain -spoken decency that render him a more faceted character. On some level the familiar plot is the stuff of Sunday evening television drama that could have descended into clichéd melodrama yet Auteuil keeps a steady hold. The result is a film that is emotive but earthy with an honest profundity worthy of Pagnol, celebrating the decency among downtrodden working folk.
It is recognizably an actor-director's movie in that the camera remains sensitive to the nuanced performances and does not grow overly enamoured with the scenery. Although Auteuil is one fine form and Kad Merad especially likeable as quite possibly the nicest, most decent man in Provence, the most vivid impression is made by achingly lovely Astrid Berges-Frisbey, who played the mermaid in Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides (2011). She gives a powerfully poignant performance as a gentle yet fiercely intelligent, moral but conflicted young woman who might seem adrift in a man's world but confronts them with challenging questions. If there is a weak link in the movie it is the hard-to-like character of Jacques who comes across such a smug, self-serving bastard it is hard to sympathize when the plot throws him a curveball. Only an actor with great charm could make Jacques' actions excusable yet Nicholas Duvauchelle inexplicably plays him in such a cold fashion with a near-permanent smirk on his face one comes away from the conclusion with the idea that rich boys get what they want without having to learn anything from the experience.
