The Baker's Wife is a movie with a core of delicacy and fragility contained beneath a boisterous surface. In terms of plot, there is hardly anything special about it, but Baker is about much more than its sparse story. It's about the love, loneliness and redemption, about the power to hurt and the power to heal, and about the importance of connecting both with another person and with a group of people. Pagnol gets these themes across in a subtle manner (for the most part), so that their lessons are absorbed rather than observed by the viewer. He also creates a wonderfully realized community, full of supporting characters who are so precisely defined that they come across as living people rather than caricatures. More importantly, he has created a solid anchor around which to build the film -- and has had the good fortune of getting the invaluable Raimu to inhabit Aimable the baker. Raimu's performance is pure gold; there is never a false note, never a moment when the actor is not perfectly in tune with the character. And yet the performance never feels studied; indeed, there are moments that startle and delight by their unexpectedness. Most importantly, Raimu makes the audience feel the intense love and devotion he has for his wife and allows them to believe that he will take her back. It's a rich performance that grows in complexity with repeated viewings. Baker is a fine accomplishment on all levels, but it is Raimu's contribution which raises it to art.