Chocolat (2000)
One year when I was in high school, I hosted a Galentine’s dinner (before it was called Galentine’s) for all my single girlfriends. My mom cooked us an elegant dinner, and all the girls whipped out their cameras (before it was cool to photograph your food) and took pictures. She made us five different desserts, including brownies, chocolate cheesecake, and chocolate-chip cookies, and we gorged ourselves while watching Chocolat. Ever since then, it’s been a tradition to watch Chocolat on Valentine’s Day. I’ve seen it twenty times by now, and every time I still love it and get even more out of it.
An interesting story or a memorable performance can make a good movie, but I always say the supporting cast makes a great movie. The story of a nomad coming to a traditional, religious French village and opening a chocolaterie right before Lent is interesting. Juliette Binoche’s layered, incredibly subtle performance is inspiring. She knows herself and doesn’t let anyone hurt her feelings or make her feel small. But being different is hard, and she struggles to stay true to herself even while she helps others. She never forces anyone out of their comfort zones. She’s merely a mirror they can choose to look at if they want to. Through her, they can see where improvement is needed. Through her, they find a safe place to grow.
As fantastic as Juliette’s performance is, the supporting cast in this movie is the icing on the cake – or, the chocolate shavings on the truffle. Judi Dench is the crusty landlady who rents Juliette the chocolate shop. She starts the movie disappointed and despondent, but one sip of Juliette’s hot chocolate returns her spunk and enjoyment. Lena Olin practically steals the show, truly embodying a woman who’s stayed in a physically abusive marriage for years. Through Juliette’s encouragement, she blossoms and realizes there are other options besides letting her husband, Peter Stormare beat her and destroy her spirit. John Wood adores his elderly dog and harbors a crush on the elegant Leslie Caron (who looks exactly the same as she did in Gigi!), and manages to stump the new, impressionable priest, Hugh O’Connor, during his dilemma at confessional. The beautiful Carrie-Anne Moss has a three-pronged dilemma: she’s overprotective of her son’s health, she’s in love with her married boss, and she doesn’t get along with her reckless mother. And finally: Alfred Molina. He’s a wonderful villain, believing in what he knows to be right so completely you’re practically on his side. He loves his town, he loves God, and he loves his principles. He turns the arrival of the new proprietress into a battle of good and evil, symbolic on every level. Without his performance, the rest of the movie doesn’t matter.
Now, onto Robert Nelson Jacob’s screenplay adaptation: Joanne Harris’s original novel was a light and fluffy piece featuring the now-popular magical realism theme. Vianne weaves a little magic into her chocolate creations and is able to make her customer’s lives better. In the movie, of course, she uses her intuition and friendship instead of magic. But are you ready for this? The Count de Reynaud isn’t in the book at all! His character is the driving force of the film; without him there simply isn’t a story. And the book, in fact, doesn’t have a story. It’s merely a woman who opens a chocolaterie and gives people magical chocolates. Jacobs’s screenplay is so powerful, every word, every gesture is meaningful. Do you know what you’re watching next Valentine’s Day? I do!
More Judi Dench movies here!
Be sure to check out Hot Toasty Rag's review of Joanne Harris's novel here!
An interesting story or a memorable performance can make a good movie, but I always say the supporting cast makes a great movie. The story of a nomad coming to a traditional, religious French village and opening a chocolaterie right before Lent is interesting. Juliette Binoche’s layered, incredibly subtle performance is inspiring. She knows herself and doesn’t let anyone hurt her feelings or make her feel small. But being different is hard, and she struggles to stay true to herself even while she helps others. She never forces anyone out of their comfort zones. She’s merely a mirror they can choose to look at if they want to. Through her, they can see where improvement is needed. Through her, they find a safe place to grow.
As fantastic as Juliette’s performance is, the supporting cast in this movie is the icing on the cake – or, the chocolate shavings on the truffle. Judi Dench is the crusty landlady who rents Juliette the chocolate shop. She starts the movie disappointed and despondent, but one sip of Juliette’s hot chocolate returns her spunk and enjoyment. Lena Olin practically steals the show, truly embodying a woman who’s stayed in a physically abusive marriage for years. Through Juliette’s encouragement, she blossoms and realizes there are other options besides letting her husband, Peter Stormare beat her and destroy her spirit. John Wood adores his elderly dog and harbors a crush on the elegant Leslie Caron (who looks exactly the same as she did in Gigi!), and manages to stump the new, impressionable priest, Hugh O’Connor, during his dilemma at confessional. The beautiful Carrie-Anne Moss has a three-pronged dilemma: she’s overprotective of her son’s health, she’s in love with her married boss, and she doesn’t get along with her reckless mother. And finally: Alfred Molina. He’s a wonderful villain, believing in what he knows to be right so completely you’re practically on his side. He loves his town, he loves God, and he loves his principles. He turns the arrival of the new proprietress into a battle of good and evil, symbolic on every level. Without his performance, the rest of the movie doesn’t matter.
Now, onto Robert Nelson Jacob’s screenplay adaptation: Joanne Harris’s original novel was a light and fluffy piece featuring the now-popular magical realism theme. Vianne weaves a little magic into her chocolate creations and is able to make her customer’s lives better. In the movie, of course, she uses her intuition and friendship instead of magic. But are you ready for this? The Count de Reynaud isn’t in the book at all! His character is the driving force of the film; without him there simply isn’t a story. And the book, in fact, doesn’t have a story. It’s merely a woman who opens a chocolaterie and gives people magical chocolates. Jacobs’s screenplay is so powerful, every word, every gesture is meaningful. Do you know what you’re watching next Valentine’s Day? I do!
More Judi Dench movies here!
Be sure to check out Hot Toasty Rag's review of Joanne Harris's novel here!