The France of 1968 is known as a year of conflict and radicalism. Robert’s old-fashioned comedy would appear to have little to do with this zeitgeist. It tells the quietly misogynist tale of Alexandre, played with a roguish debonair by Phillipe Noiret, a henpecked farmer whose wife dies in a car crash. He reacts by retreating to his bed to lead a life of indolence and sloth, before being lured back into the world by the shapely charms of Marlène Jobert. The film is a portrait of a bucolic rural France. The locals are friendly. They drink pastis and play billiards. The nearby small town has a regular market. People only drive French cars. The fishing is good and the living seems easy. It’s a long way from riots in Paris. And yet… there might be a subtext to Alexandre le Bienhereux which resonates with the era. Don’t dedicate your life to work. Enjoy the good things in life. Don’t be a slave to the system. Alexandre is turned into a kind of cult hero as he refuses to get out of bed and tend his fields. He is a small-time anarchist. What could be more ’68 than this?
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