Léa Domenach, “Bernadette” (2023)
Any time Catherine Deneuve takes on a film role is reason enough to watch that film, and so it is with “Bernadette” aka “The President’s Wife”, the directorial debut of Léa Domenach. The film roughly covers twelve years of Jacques Chirac’s political career as President of France (1995 – 2007) until his replacement by Nicolas Sarkozy. Deneuve plays Chirac’s wife Bernadette during that period, in which she transforms from stoic and mostly silent spouse putting up with Chirac’s numerous flings with other, much younger women, to a national political force in her own right. Relying on her own political instincts as a representative for Corrèze department, and with the help of advisor Bernard Niquet (Denis Podalydès), Bernadette changes from dowdy middle-aged missus with a reputation for being old-fashioned and cold to a glamorous, charismatic figure radiating warmth and humour. While Bernadette remakes herself and the role of President’s spouse, campaigning for children’s charities, opening hospitals, giving interviews in her own right, and being careful to be seen as supportive of her husband, Chirac (Michel Vuillermoz) himself, surrounded by advisors who include his daughter Claude (Sara Giraudeau), goes from one blunder to another, his affairs becoming very public and his reliance on polling surveys and thinktank bureaucrats – while ignoring Bernadette’s intuition – turning into one pie-in-the-face embarrassment after another.
Audiences outside France won’t learn very much about what Chirac actually achieved as President, domestically and abroad, which is a pity as what he actually did might serve to heighten the contrast between his public image and his private life, and demonstrate just how much he underestimated Bernadette. But “Bernadette” is intended as light political satire after all, warning all that it is entirely fictional, and as such avoids examining in some detail what both he and Bernadette actually got up to, separately and together, during his time as President. Sure, we see Bernadette trying in her own way to assert herself as a political figure in her own right and to craft her own public image with help from Niquet. But the huge jumps the film makes from one time period to another mean that very little about Bernadette actually achieved – or didn’t achieve, since her promise of bringing a high-speed train service to Corrèze remained just that, a promise – is mentioned.
Principal actors Deneuve and Podalydès acquit themselves well in their roles, and the supporting cast does good work. Vuillermoz does play Chirac as a clown to be mocked for his personal flaws and failures, and not as politician who left his nation with a mixed and controversial legacy. Scenes in which Bernadette is confronted by her other daughter Laurence (Maud Wyler), who is suffering from anorexia, could have provided the film’s emotional core: instead, these scenes seem superfluous to the brisk, light-hearted plot. We never learn either what became of the numerous corruption charges against the President, including charges that he misused public funds and gave fictional jobs to 28 people in his own party while he was mayor of Paris.
You can’t help but feel that “Bernadette” was really created as a comedy vehicle for Deneuve: in some ways, it sends up Deneuve herself, as an actress once feted as a great beauty who starred in daring films directed by legendary people like Luis Bunuel and Roman Polanski, and who was once associated with the French New Wave in cinema, and sixty years later coming to seem a bit old-fashioned in being kitted out in one sumptuous designer suit after another; and yet, even at 80+ years of age, though her looks may have faded, Deneuve can still look radiant, even ageless. At the same time, she still takes on projects and roles that can be completely unexpected. Quelle dame!