Chocolat

"Can I interest you in some nipples of Venus?" Juliette Binoche

(2000) Period Piece Romantic Drama
Based on the novel by Joanne Harris
Starring Juliette Binoche, Judi Dench, Lena Olin and Johnny Depp
Directed by Lasse Hollstrom (Olin's husband)
Produced by Harvey and Bob Weinstein
Written by Robert Nelson Jacobs
Running time: 121 minutes
Rated PG-13


 I think what's missing from my life is a red cape with a hood and an imaginary kangaroo who can't hop. ("Pantouffle", by the way, is the French word for slipper.) I can't remember what I acquired first--the book or the film. I own them both. I devoured them both. Once you get to know me, you'll realize I'm such a sucker for foodies. They tend to have more heart, more morals, more meat. In the case of Chocolat, more candy shaped like titties. (Go ahead and woohoo! You know you want to.)

The intro is simplistic, complete with engaging cinematography that lures the viewer in via Rachel Portman. I'll admit I have a serious weakness for Rachel Portman. She relaxes me, makes me feel safe and comfortable. I can hear her coming from the proverbial mile away, and I settle into my teddy bear blanket. (Think Emma-- the golden Gwyneth version.)

So, it's winter in the late '50s. Vianne (Binoche) and her young daughter ride the north wind into a small French town that is repeatedly referred to as "tranquil", and they open up a Chocolaterie during Lint. Can you smell the controversy? Can you hear the church bells ringing? It's not a tricky plot, people. Vianne is (GASP!) different. She wears red shoes. She's the kind of lady who lives her life the way she wants, and a big Screw You to anybody who objects. I can't relate at all. (Insert Huge Lie.) Unfortunately, she's beautiful, and she's knowledgeable and her heart is richer than her confections. Please find a reason to hate her, I beg you.

Now, if you don't already know, you should--Chicks dig makeover scenes. And watching Vianne redo her dusty chocolate shop is no exception. Afterward, of course, you get to witness our scandalous beauty makeover the entire village. If that's not enough, perhaps you need Depp to "come 'round sometime and get that squeak out your door."

Speaking of... Evidently, Chocolat commemorates the first time Johnny has ever plucked a string on film. And yes, he is actually playing. In fact, he threw together the Django/Blues combo all on his own. And for the record, should that tarnished, greenish guitar pop up on Ebay for billions of francs, I want it.

Furthermore, it's worth noting, if you love the leather-clad, Matrix-style Carrie Ann Moss, you'll probably hate her just as equally in this film. But there's a little narration twist at the end that I find quite charming. And if none of the above impresses you, watch for Gigi. She's the one who digs the chocolate seashells.

One spider for cinematography and soundtrack.
One spider for being your own person.
One spider for playing your own damn guitar.
One spider for Dame Judi Dench and an ensemble cast.
And of course, one spider for Venus' nipples.