The Miramax machine was in overdrive when the best picture nominees were announced in 2001. Previous submissions such as Il Postino, La Vita è Bella and the Cider House Rules confounded critics and the competition alike, all sneaking in multiple Oscar nominations. The trend continued with Lasse Hallström's well-intentioned Chocolat. The subject matter has been covered before (food being used as an aphrodisiac in a lighthearted film), but I do appreciate its merit and can partly understand its relative popularity and success.
The comparisons to Like Water for Chocolate are inevitable. The protagonists in both movies are women who risk defying conformity through their cooking and their hidden passions. However, while the Mexican 1992 film is about the difficulties of tradition, 2000's Chocolat alludes to the supposed dangers of organized religion. That subtext is tricky to convey in a romantic comedy, and, despite a relatively light glow, it ends up opening a rather uneasy can of worms which it never really deals with head on.
Juliette Binoche is Vianne, a wandering confectioneer who arrives in an unnamed French village with her illegitimate daughter Anouk (the versatile Victoire Thivisol). Vianne sets up camp in secret, much to the curiosity of the townspeople. When she finally opens the doors to her chocolate shop during Lent, there is much resistance to her amoral indulgences. Along the way, she befriends a riverboat gypsy named Roux (Johnny Depp), an abused housewife (Lena Olin), and an elderly curmudgeon who has been estranged from her own grandchildren (Judi Dench). There's also a self-righteous mayor (Alfred Molina) and his bumbling, acrid sidekick (Peter Stormare, essentially reprising his role from Fargo).
Dench has certainly been better, and so has Olin, whose character hovers dangerously close to a stock drawup. Johnny Depp, however, after perhaps too many leading roles in movies (which, for the most part, have bombed at the box office), is right on target here in a likeable, supporting appearance. Carrie-Anne Moss and Alfred Molina are good too, although, without a doubt, both of their parts (the sternly protective mother and the meddling authority figure afraid to lose his iron grip) are stereotypes with a capital S. Binoche, as always, is ravishing.
The movie obviously praises impulsiveness over rationalism, but in using religion as the fall guy, its closing scene feels more awkward than celebratory. Sure, many of the characters seem happier at the film's conclusion than they were at the beginning -- and not necessarily at the expense of their religious convictions -- but by using eccentric caricatures as a shield, the makers of Chocolat are merely removing the calories from the recipe. Vianne, the husbandless single mother, is portrayed in a saintly light compared to the other villagers, who are unhappily married. She is also the only one in the town who refuses to attend church (the reason for which is never divulged). In addition, by making chocolate for the town, Vianne's heathen ways have finally helped the wayward Christians to see the true light. Yes... and...? Go on...
