Cast: Juliette Binoche, Victoire Thivisol, Johnny Depp, Alfred Molina, Hugh O'Conor, Lena Olin, Peter Stormare, Judi Dench, Carrie-Anne Moss
Director: Lasse Hallström
Producers: David Brown, Kit Golden, Leslie Holleran
Screenplay: Robert Nelson Jacobs, based on the novel by Joanne Harris
Cinematography: Roger Pratt
Music: Rachel Portman
U.S. Distributor: Miramax Films
A little bit of sweetness in a movie, as in life, can be a pleasant thing. Too much, however, triggers the gag reflex. This is the case with Chocolat (not to be confused with Claire Denis' haunting 1989 debut), a film that labors so desperately to offer a feel-good experience that it ends up being tedious instead. With ineptly drawn stereotypes replacing characters and formulaic, plot-by-numbers moments standing in for real storytelling, Chocolat turns out to be a sinful waste of talent. Unfortunately, this is just the kind of gutless, "safe" motion picture that Miramax Films has been producing of late.
Using Like Water for Chocolate and various "food films" (e.g., Babette's Feast) as his inspiration, director Lasse Hallström attempts to fashion a fable about how the citizens of a remote French village throw off the yoke of religious oppression and find true happiness through the hedonistic pleasure of chocolate consumption. Unfortunately, every step in the movie is easily predicted and the characters are so thin that they're hardly worth taking notice of, let alone caring about. Worse still, Hallström is so determined to make the film upbeat that a cloying tone permeates everything, even seeping into the one or two "sad" scenes that attempt to develop Chocolat into more of a real drama than an exercise in happy endings.
The events related during the course of the film transpire in a small French village during the winter of 1959. One windy Sunday afternoon near the beginning of Lent, a woman and her young daughter arrive in the staid, proper town. At first, everyone welcomes Vianne and Anouk Rochon (Juliette Binoche and Victoire Thivisol) - until it becomes general knowledge that they do not attend mass and, worse, that Vianne intends to open a chocolate shop during Lent (chocolate, which is associated with decadence, being inappropriate for a time of self-abnegation). The pious mayor of the town, Comte de Reynaud (Alfred Molina), and the new priest, Pere Henri (Hugh O'Conor), denounce Vianne, but it does little good. Her shop flourishes and she gains a small cadre of adherents, including Jospehine Muscat (Lena Olin), who takes refuge with Vianne when she flees her abusive husband (Peter Stormare), and Amande Voizin (Judi Dench), a crotchety old woman who owns the shop that Vianne rents. And, when Vianne begins to consort with a nomadic group of river-farers and strikes up a friendship with their leader, Roux (Johnny Depp), the town's disapproval turns to outrage.
One has to wonder what actors of the caliber of Juliette Binoche, Judi Dench, and Alfred Molina are doing in this movie, and why a director of Lasse Hallström's reputation (his previous outing, The Cider House Rules, was nominated for a Best Picture Oscar) agreed to helm such a trite venture. Sure, the film has an art-house sheen, but that's really just a thin coating spread over an obviously commercial endeavor. Maybe Hallstöm is just overly fond of chocolate. If so, he had an opportunity to indulge himself with this project - there are plenty of the obligatory cooking and gorging scenes. Reportedly, some members of the cast became sick after eating too much of the candy.
For the most part, the actors perform down to the level of the material. Binoche is flat and uninspired. It's hard to believe that this is the same woman who did such forceful work in Krzysztof Kieslowsi's Blue before going on to win a Best Actress Oscar for The English Patient. Judi Dench, another Oscar winner, is less emotive than she is as "M" in the James Bond movies. Johnny Depp plays his role like an aging hippy, and exhibits no chemistry with Binoche. The Vianne/Roux romance feels contrived from the beginning. Victoire Thivisol, the girl who gave a heartbreaking performance in Ponette, shows some promise - although she isn't nearly as good here as she was in her debut. Meanwhile, Carrie-Anne Moss (the Matrix babe) proves that she can do a credible job in a non-science fiction movie. The scene-stealer in Chocolat is Alfred Molina, who goes all out to create a character from the caricature he is presented with on paper. Watching Molina is one of the few delights associated with an overlong motion picture that offers too few pleasures.
Thematically, the movie draws parallels between chocolate, sex, and life, but the connection is so obvious that it's not interesting to mention, let alone discuss. What a surprise, that those who give in to their passion for chocolate suddenly have fulfilled lives! Or that the enjoyment resulting from the consumption of cocoa is orgasmic. As one might expect from a film like this, religion is presented as a source of oppression. It is a stereotypical "bad thing", representing the means by which the villagers are kept in check. Vianne arrives like an angel of enlightenment, determined to use her chocolate-making skills to reveal the truth. One-by-one, the townspeople sample her bon-bons and see the light. In many ways, Catholicism gets a shabbier treatment here than in the many serious movies that supposedly attack it.
Chocolat is likely to find favor with viewers who appreciated the dubious aroma of Fina Torres' Woman On Top or the lighter-than-a-feather first half of Roberto Begnini's Life Is Beautiful. In fact, the comparison to the early portions of Life Is Beautiful is especially apt - both have the same entirely false, warm and fuzzy feeling. The difference is that Begnini's film followed the saccharine elements with a hard-hitting second half. Chocolat does no such thing. It is artificial to the core, without an edgy conclusion to redeem it. This is Cinema Paradiso meets Like Water for Chocolate, with all of the genuine sentiment replaced by something calculated and manufactured, resulting in a confection that is processed and tasteless.
© 2000 James Berardinelli