Vive les Plantes

I originally planned to feature a revolution-themed movie this month. I even had two countries to choose from setting-wise: the US and France, which both celebrate kicking monarchs to the curb in July. Instead I’ve picked a movie set in the century before those revolutions, when King Louis XIV of France faced the high-stakes decision of whether to let his gardeners think outside the box.

A Little Chaos was made in 2014 by British people about French people, directed and cowritten by Alan Rickman (RIP to a legend), starring Kate Winslet* and a cardboard cutout credited as Matthias Schoenaerts. This is a film I greatly enjoy and cannot defend. Plot: shaky. Messaging: questionable. Dialogue: look, not everyone can be good at everything, okay? But the vibe: that works for me. It’s about Growth(TM), and interconnectedness, and trying to hold on to your integrity and creativity under an absolute monarchy because some days that’s where you’re at mentally and/or geopolitically.

Intro text tells us, “There is an outdoor ballroom in the gardens of Versailles. In what follows, that much at least is true.” PROMISING. Start taking bets on what my historical accuracy rating will be.

It’s 1682. Louis XIV is multitasking: spending quality time with his young kids/grandkids/niblings, standing stock still while servants dress him, and announcing his plan for some mega-gardens at Versailles that’ll knock everyone’s stockings off. Because the irresistible Rickman himself plays Louis, I have to tag this movie as monarchist propaganda right off the bat. Here’s some stuff the real Louis (1638-1713) got up to during his seventy-two years on the throne:

• self-branded as the Sun King, aka the center of the universe (tacky)

• started a bunch of expensive empire-building wars (rude)

• made dang sure he was the #1 decider out of a grand total of 1 (gross)

• became a patron of the arts (insufficient to make up for the rest!)

Here’s some stuff Rickman gets up to in this movie:

• self-deprecatingly gives his tiny progeny tips on elocution and intimidation

• gets vulnerable about his feelings

• befriends a commoner lady entrepreneur

What’s not to love? This should be Strike One for historical accuracy, but we’re gonna run out of strikes very fast so let’s be judicious with them.

Sidenote: The only upside to Rickman dying too soon is that I’ll never have to find out whether he would’ve opposed JK Rowling’s career pivot to TERF supervillain. He can live forever uncanceled in my heart.

Time to meet our protagonist—our first fictional protagonist of this newsletter! Sabine is a hot widowed landscape gardener. She has two dimensions:

1. doggedly composed professional

2. grieving mother

Fortunately Winslet, the ultimate Not Like Other Girls Girl, makes Sabine compelling without breaking a sweat. (It’s pretty clear that everyone involved in this movie said “Sure, I’ll do it for Alan” and gave it about 60%; Winslet’s 60 just happens to be many actors’ 110.)

Sabine lands an interview with Louis’s head landscaper, André Le Nôtre (1613–1700), who’s in charge of the Versailles mega-gardens project and needs a lieutenant to take one of the gardens off his plate. At André’s estate, Sabine clocks a carefully arranged display of potted trees and scootches one pot to the side. André sees this and presumably thinks wtf.

I say “presumably” because the only thing wrong with this movie, other than 50% of its ideology and 75% of its dialogue, is Schoenaerts’s performance. He’s not just phoning it in; he’s sending Morse code from outer space. His delivery is so flat that I could visualize his typed lines in the screenplay as he said them. His expression is so inert that I wished someone would try growing a plant on his face.

The real Le Nôtre was almost seventy in 1682 (and in his fifties when he actually started working on the Versailles gardens in the 1660s), which means there was no need to cast a thirty-five-year-old sleepwalker. So many British zaddies could’ve made a meal out of this role: Rupert Graves. David Morrissey. Richard Armitage. I encourage you, if you watch this movie, to spend every moment of Schoenaerts’s screentime mentally subbing in a middle-aged actor you find more interesting.

Sabine meets three other candidates for the assistant gardener job, all dudes of course. Two are like Whaaaat a laaaaaaady?! One, played by Steven Waddington using his natural Yorkshire accent, bless him, seems pretty chill.

During the interview, André’s first question (aside from “These are your plans?” like she might’ve stolen six giant sheets of garden blueprints from some rando on the street) is “Are you a believer in order?” Translation: I noticed you messed with my lil potted trees and that hurt my feelings. Her answer: “‘Order’ seems to demand that we look back to Rome or to the Renaissance… Isn’t there something uniquely French, as yet not celebrated by us?” (Me: checks cast list again, looks directly at camera.) He’s like Oh, so you think I’m not hip enough? Well, your designs are CHAOTIC. Yeah, I said it! Interview OVER.

Sabine goes home and prunes a tree while Peter Gregson’s score goes DID SOMEONE ASK FOR A BANGER? Tbf the tree is one of those awesome multi-trunked ones so this sequence does feel pretty epic. And now the movie’s done.

JK. André hires her after all, prompted by his sensible assistant and the memory of his late dad’s gardening-related wisdom. (This guy drops more “My father”s than Meghan McCain. Respectfully: we don’t know your dad!) He’s also impressed—as was I—by a visit to Sabine’s home garden, illuminated at night by strategically placed candles. Talk about chaos; you could burn Paris to the ground with that setup.

Sidenote: This is one of a handful of genuinely lovely visual sequences in the film. My other favorite involves a tree that’s been turned into a “shrine” of ribbons, jewelry, and scrap-paper notes, like a 17th-century Pont des Arts. The critical consensus is that Rickman’s direction was wobbly, but I think he was on to something with shots like these.

Based on Sabine’s blueprint, André has designed a tiered arena slash outdoor ballroom slash giant water feature for Sabine to create. But he warns her, “In my world even anarchy is by royal command, and chaos must adhere to budget.” Guy’s obviously fun at parties!

The project’s already off track: too expensive, too complicated, the 17th-century equivalent of ChatGPT for resource use. André’s response to his engineers’ concerns: Deal with it. Sun King says jump, we go full Icarus.

Sabine comes up with a system to recycle the water in her garden instead of continuously pumping more in, thus reducing upkeep costs and making Versailles less environmentally wasteful than your average modern golf course. She starts excavating an arena-sized pit with her handful of supportive employees and some dud day laborers.

But TWIST: Steven Waddington is back, with a much more reliable crew, offering to pitch in. He’s willing to work under a woman because A) “If you fail, we all fail,” and B) his “leviathan” wife insisted. Within two minutes Waddington displays more charisma than Schoenaerts accumulates during the total runtime, so I kinda hope Leviathan Wife, who sounds like she rocks, is interested in opening up her marriage.

Speaking of wives, turns out André’s married. This wouldn’t ordinarily be a barrier to relationships in A) France and/or B) the aristocracy, but his wife is a jerkface who demands a quid pro quo: she’ll keep hyping him up at court, leveraging the clout of her superior bloodlines to advance his career, if he goes through the matrimonial motions. She’s also stepping out on him regularly, just in case you were torn about whose side to take. The character was clearly reverse-engineered from the premise that the audience should be rooting for André to dump her. To sum up the movie’s logic:

• king with unlimited power, extravagant tastes, and an unrealistic agenda = fine

• woman who wants her husband to make eye contact = bad

So that’s gonna come between André and Sabine for at least another forty-five minutes. I’m in no hurry; this is one affair I’m not shipping! At one point André tells Sabine, “Your heart beats fiercely; mine just ticks. I have no gifts to offer such a wonder.” AGREED, SIR.

Sabine’s also dealing with upsetting memories of her dead kid. (This isn’t so much a spoiler as anyone’s first guess when a child’s disembodied laughter enters the chat.) But on the bright side, she’s invited to court. There, she meets the following characters, all of whom I would protect at all costs:

• the gallant duc de Lauzun, played by period drama regular Rupert Penry-Jones, who gives Sabine the lowdown on court life. (Me: “This guy seems nice AND non-comatose! Why not hook up with him instead of André, Sabine?”)

• the flamboyant duc d’Orleans, played by—who else?—Stanley Tucci, whose first line is this greeting to André: “My dear old cabbage! Give me a kiss instantly or I shall take grave offense!” (Me: “Or what about him, Sabine? He seems fun!”)

• Orleans’s wife, Princess Palatine, who’s like “yeah, he swings both ways, doesn’t bother me” and is super interested in engineering; in other words, an icon. (Me: “Sabine? Feeling any twinges in the nethers??”)

• the Marquise de Montespan, the king’s long-term mistress who’s on the verge of washing out, played by the incomparable JENNIFER EHLE, true period drama royalty!!!**

Meanwhile, Louis worries that the garden plans are too Out There. He tells André he doesn’t want these gardens to be frivolous and immature like, you know, the rest of his life. “I want a window to perfection so people can see the very best in themselves.” Or, just spitballing here, you could try feeding some poor people, but sure, we’ll do your thing.

The queen, whom we saw for ten seconds at the beginning, dies offscreen, and Louis copes with his grief by sitting in an orchard alone. Kings—they’re just like us! Having an official mistress and an unofficial mistress doesn’t mean you won’t be sad when your wife dies!

When Sabine strolls into that same orchard to get some shrubs for her garden and mistakes Louis for the…. orchardist?… he leans into it, extremely unconvincingly. “My book on pears? Oh, yes, I have written a book on pears. I believe I said that I liked them a lot.” She catches on but indulges his wish to have a chill conversation like an ordinary person. (Just a thought: if you wanna be treated like a regular guy maybe don’t demand unquestioning obedience from people who have to call you THE SUN KING.)

Louis helps Sabine move some plants around. He talks about his wife—and confides that he’s already got the next Mrs. Sun King lined up; only problem is, she’s lowborn. Sabine suggests that he just keep their wedding on the downlow, and that’s how morganatic marriage gets invented. It’s all very silly, but Rickman and Winslet play off each other so well that I absolutely buy it and yes, I do think Sabine should sleep with him instead of André if given those two choices.

Sidenote: If you haven’t been keeping track of how many men in this movie I’d rather see Sabine bang than André, the answer is 100% of them. Even André’s septuagenarian assistant seems like a better bet.

TWIST/JUMPSCARE: André’s wife appears at the worksite to intimidate Sabine, who responds with crickets but apparently looks defiant enough that Madame decides to escalate. Here’s the voiceover from Madame’s lover/accomplice: “We found the sluice gate that connects the reservoir to the fountain. If we fill it, the pressure in the pipes will build and we can flood the grove.” I’m no engineer—Scott had to explain how his lawnmower works three times before I got it—but this is clearly Bad News.

The gate’s open; the worksite’s underwater; all the dirt-sculpting that’s been done to create the arena’s tiers is washing away. Sabine tries to close the gate but falls into the rushing water, leaving André to save the day and her life. (Me: “Booooo! Save yourself, Sabine! You’re fictional! Anything should’ve been possible for you!”)

Afterward, Louis rolls in and goes Looks like a mess, idk about this project, which is a BETRAYAL of the FRIENDSHIP, but that’s classic Sun King nonsense for you. André says, “Trust is all we can give to those who reach into the new.” A better response might’ve been Someone clearly sabotaged the worksite and you can’t blame that on innovative design, but I appreciate what you’re trying to say, Alan. Louis’s still skeptical—though not too skeptical to invite Sabine back to court.

Montespan brings Sabine to group therapy, aka some ladies talking cathartically about their dead kids. (Phyllida Law*** is there! Rickman really did call in favors!) In return, Sabine defends Montespan when Louis implies she’s lost her charms. There’s a rose metaphor that goes on for… a while. But it does include the line “Patience, care, and a little warmth from the sun are our best hope.” Amen, for real.

André finds his wife’s glove at the worksite, realizes she was behind Floodgate-gate, and breaks up with her, in case anyone cares. He and Sabine get down to business, in a scene that gives you lots of time to run through more casting alternatives: Colin Firth. James Frain. Matthew Rhys. Mark Rylance! Seriously, Alan, you couldn’t have called in ONE MORE FAVOR to secure a leading man with a pulse?

Sabine’s orgasm triggers a PTSD flashback: We find out how her husband and daughter died, and it’s… how should I put this… hilarious. It involves

• Sabine trying to stop their carriage as her husband’s taking their kid to his mistress’s place

• a wheel coming off the carriage

• the carriage plunging into a RAVINE

• slow-mo!!!

• much intense lung-work from Winslet

Strong candidate for best/worst twist ever. But there is some emotional impact when Sabine sobs, “She was the most beautiful thing I ever made, and I killed her.”

With help from André’s shoulder muscles if not his line delivery (David Tennant. Gabriel Byrne. Jeremy Northam…), she speedruns acceptance that the kid’s death wasn’t her fault and that it’s okay to find joy again.

MORE IMPORTANT, she’s repaired and finished her garden! It’s opening day! Sabine makes eye contact with all the more likeable dudes she could’ve been shagging, prompting André to observe “Madame is lucky in her friends.” That’s right, sir, your days are NUMBERED.

The garden is 10/10. Behold:

• greenery-covered tiered seating

• a waterfall and spurty fountains

• an elaborately tiled floor in the middle for dancing

• a hidden orchestra

Everyone’s into it. Louis dances with Sabine and gives her that coveted Sun King smile. Stanley Tucci holds hands with both his wife and his boyfriend. Sabine and André sneak off to smooch, which, whatever. BACK TO THE GARDEN! As the music swells in a genuinely gorgeous closing track, we zoom out from the dancing courtiers to see the whole freakin’ monstrosity of the Versailles gardens and have a second to think “Wait a minute, what DID this vanity project cost?” before the credits hit.

Plot/pacing/structure: 3. Lots going on, much of which is underbaked, but I appreciate the ambition of stuffing your entire mood board onto the screen. Didn’t bore me, at least!

Characters: 3. Do they have depth? Not much. Do I like ‘em anyway? Yeah. (Even André, played by a different actor, could’ve won me over.) Should I like a bunch of ultrarich powerbrokers and their willing enablers? No, but it’s fiction!

Historical accuracy: 2. Like it says on the tin, there is indeed an outdoor ballroom at the Versailles gardens, the Salle de Bal. So that’s one point! And the duc d’Orleans really was bi, so that’s another! Most characters are named after real people without being meaningfully based on them (which is probably why so many are sympathetic). Sabine is entirely ahistorical, as are her wardrobe and hairstyle.

Themes: 3. Obviously I’m deducting a point for “Prioritize keeping your omnipotent ruler happy, no matter how bizarre and impractical his whims.” And a couple more points for “If you’re tempted to cheat on your wife, it’s probably because she’s a cartoon villain!” and “Sex will free you from your trauma.” HOWEVER, there are some good bones in here too: Nature and art can bridge all kinds of barriers. The messiness of trying something new is part of the point. There’ll never be a perfect set of conditions to create beauty, so work with what you’ve got to make it happen anyway. And always listen to Leviathan Wife.

Thanks for joining me on this diversion! We’ll be back to punching N*zis soon!

*Rickman and Winslet’s second, and alas final, collaboration after 1995’s Sense and Sensibility.

**Three words: Pride. And. Prejudice. (And a date: 1995.)

***period drama veteran and mother of period drama aficionados Emma and Sophie Thompson!