Lurking beneath the fragrant aromas of horticultural invention lies a dark underbelly so seedy that only the most cutthroat among us would ever dare step foot. This world, full of conspiracy, piracy, and even burglary, is home to a criminal element so devious that law enforcement fails to fully comprehend the crimes committed under its guise.
With every holiday, birthday, or anniversary celebrated, and certainly every funeral attended, honest citizens unknowingly abet these ruthless perpetrators by frequenting their shops and gardens and paying good money for their illicit contraband.
These offenders—the florists, growers, planters, and arrangers of the world—hide in plain sight, biding their time until the harvest comes once again. Now, just in time for spring, director Pierre Pinaud’s brings to light just one of the many chilling tales from this lawless underworld—a tale you’d be wise to consider the next time you decide to stop and smell the roses.
Just kidding. Let me start over.
Pierre Pinaud’s The Rose Maker breathes an effortless sort of charm and innocence rarely found outside of French comedies of error. As a lighthearted romp through the niche industry of competitive horticulturalists, it certainly does its job, but it never quite exceeds expectations, even though it occasionally comes close. And while The Rose Maker isn’t nearly as merciless as described above, it does introduce a potentially polarizing, if relatively harmless criminal act that’s somehow adorable and exploitative at the same time.
The film begins as Eve (Catherine Frot), a once-gifted boutique horticulturist, is on the verge of bankruptcy and at risk of losing the rose business she inherited from her father. As an act of desperation, Véra (her loyal secretary, played by Olivia Côte) hires three ex-convicts (Melan Omerta, Fatsah Bouyahmed, and Marie Petiot) to help with the upcoming season, but whose inexperience annoys Eve to no end. In true underdog fashion, it’s up to this ragtag group of misfits to save the farm and hopefully learn something along the way.
This somewhat reductive plot synopsis is not meant to disparage the quality of the film or diminish the amount of enjoyment it’s capable of doling out. Instead, it’s meant to point out that the familiar plot elements and story beats that make up The Rose Maker are less a moving examination of human behavior and more like a visit from an old friend. You may know what to expect with each meeting, but you enjoy the company all the same.
However, there is one deviation from this anticipated course in the form of a surprising criminal act that serves as the film’s turning point.
When Eve realizes she can’t compete with the giant mega-farm looking to buy her out, she decides to break into their lab and steal their prized rose specimen. On its surface, this sneaky deceit is as benign (and comedically quirky) as the great library hold-up in Wes Anderson’s Bottle Rocket, but there’s an unsettling aspect of it that the film doesn’t explore to my satisfaction.
You see, to pull off this daring heist, Eve must enlist her employees’ help—the very ones who are out on parole. For her own gain and no one else’s, Eve would risk the freedom of those who only wish to turn their lives around and make something better for themselves. Quite frankly, it’s a callous and nearly villainous move, of which, regrettably, very little is ever made.
It’s entirely possible I’m reading far too much into this, but I think it’s worth mentioning, especially considering the sizable divide in consequences for everyone involved.
Class critique aside, The Rose Maker remains a delightful French charmer with enough breezy laughs and gentle cheer to put a spring into anyone’s step.
James is a writer, skateboarder, record collector, wrestling nerd, and tabletop gamer living with his family in Asheville, North Carolina. He is a member of the Southeastern Film Critics Association, the North Carolina Film Critics Association, and contributes to The Daily Orca, Razorcake Magazine, Mountain Xpress, and Asheville Movies.