Chocolat: Cacao, suppression, and (micro)aggression

TW: Domestic violence

Happy Valentine's day to those who celebrate. As I write this, I am enjoying a matcha latte and - fittingly - a rich chocolate cake in one of my favorite cafés, and I kind of feel like one of those aspiring writers in New York you sometimes see in the movies. But somehow even more hipster-y. Today is a day to celebrate love in its many forms. Self-love, friendships, romance, familial love, in no particular order. And of course, it is a day to consume an ungodly amount of chocolate. Hence I felt compelled to rewatch one of my favorite films: Lasse Hallström's Chocolat (2000). A great tale of power and anger with a dusting of cacao.

The plot

Vianne (Juliette Binoche) and her young daughter arrive at a tranquil Catholic French town just around the time of Lent fasting in the year 1959. They are brought in by the north wind wearing red capes. We soon learn that they tend to live a nomadic life, bouncing from place to place, staying until the wind picks back up again and it's time to leave. In this town, Vianne sets up shop in an abandoned patisserie which she transforms into a chocolaterie to nurture a trade she had learned from her Mayan mother. The town they've entered is a rigid one, they come to discover. The people tend to stay in their lane, stick to the rules. They don't misbehave. And the arrival of these two new women is making waves. When the town's mayor, a sharply-dressed man bent on self-discipline and devotion, comes by to introduce himself, and to invite them to mass on Sunday, Vianne refuses. She doesn't attend church, which strikes the mayor as odd. It wouldn't take long before gossip around her mysterious identity goes around. "I heard she's one of those radicals." "Well I heard she's an Atheist". The mayor makes it his mission to turn the town against her, while she is trying to win them over.

In his efforts, the mayor forbids the townspeople from visiting the chocolaterie. And when Vianne finds out, she storms over to his office:

Am I breaking any laws? Tell me! Am I hurting anyone? What exactly have you been telling people about me?

Only the truth, mademoiselle.

Well, if you're expecting me to just shrivel up and blow away, you're going to be highly disappointed.

It only motivates her further. Spite drives rebellion sometimes, no? Slowly, she finds allies in other women in town. As well as a group of Romani nomads who arrive at the river bank halfway through the film. Vianne finds community with them, and with one man in particular. Roux (Johnny Depp), warns her though, saying it's dangerous to make friends with his people. "You make friends with us, you make enemies with others", he tells her. Vianne responds: "Is that a promise?"

When a woman steps out of line

During Chocolat, I am constantly reminded of the general female experience. Where we walk a tightrope of expectations, eyes on us from all directions, ready to judge at missteps. Vianne does not conform to the town's traditional way of life and is marked as disruptive, even threatening, for it. All in an effort to exercise control over her and to keep her small. That doesn't sit well with her. Her landlady, Armande (Judi Dench), is the same, they discover as they bond over a cup of chili-infused hot chocolate and Armande's stories of the frisky love affairs of her younger days. She is well beyond retirement age now but absolutely not willing to move to a nursing home. Her wish has always been to be the master of her own life. We even find out later, after she has become a frequent guest of the chocolaterie, that she has diabetes and is on doctor's orders to eat less sugar. She doesn't care, though. She will not listen to what others tell her to do.

Then there is Josephine (Lena Olin), the wife of the town's barkeeper. When we are first introduced to her, a townswoman whispers to Vianne: "That's Josephine Muscat. She waltzes to her own tune." She is the most interesting character, in my opinion. It's clear that the relationship she has with her husband is emotionally, and later physically, abusive. He isolates her, feeds her a narrative about who she should be, what she should do. It has made her paranoid and untrusting of kindness. In the first few moments we see her on screen, there is such conflict going on inside of her. Balancing somewhere between completely believing that her purpose is to play the devoted, proper wife, and wanting to be anything but that. But how? People talk. They have opinions and expectations, and those matter. A lot. Vianne befriends her and invites her into the shop, where Josephine comes to a breaking point, feeling the weight of these expectations:

"If you don't go to confession, or if you don't dig your flower beds, or if you don't pretend... If you don't pretend... that you want nothing more in your life than to serve your husband three meals a day, and give him children, and vacuum under his ass, then... Then you're crazy."

See also: hysteria, which I may or may not have written about.

All three women hunger for freedom. To break free from control. And throughout the rest of the story, together, they find ways to take steps towards that goal. In that sense it is not only a tale of oppression, but also of celebration, and of love in the form of female friendships.

Some personal reflections

To let you in on one of the things that has been keeping me busy recently, I've been doing some emotional work, specifically when it comes to vulnerability. Why not use this space to practice? Just a little bit. And I've been reflecting a lot on my time in Barcelona so far. I've been here over two months now and have experienced the classic culture shock in its many waves. The ups, the downs, the awkwardness, the freedom, and so much more. I see that in Vianne's character in Chocolat, too. I've never related to her more. The first few times I watched this film I was quite young. The love story was my main appeal, as a lover of romcoms and dramas. But now, with a tad more life experience, it's like looking into a mirror. Or maybe a tinted window, because our stories are of course difficult to compare with the different eras and cultural settings.

However, like Vianne, I've never truly felt rooted anywhere. The Netherlands is my home, I would say, but I don't always feel at home there. And I have the luxury and ability to seek out that sense of belonging in multiple places. While I have great difficulty making life-altering decisions and always find myself terrified at the cusp of such change, it is something I crave from time to time. A change of scenery. An escape, one might say. Or simply a new perspective. It's why I enjoy traveling and taking leaps, even though I am at heart a cautious and (over)calculating person. When I think about it, freedom of movement is perhaps the freedom I attribute the most value to. I associate it with my independence and my self-sufficiency and those are great sources of pride for me. I don't like the feeling of being tied down somewhere, by situations or especially by expectations. Commitment can be restrictive. And I mean that not necessarily when it relates to people, but more so when it relates to circumstances.

The longer you stay in one place, live your routined life, allow people to get closer and closer, the more anchored your (self-)image becomes. It's actually something Roux touches on in the film. Vianne asks him:"Don't you ever think about belonging somewhere?", and he shakes his head in response. "The price is too high", he says. "You end up caring what people expect of you." The effect that has on me is that I feel less room to develop, explore, and grow. I notice I really get to know myself when encountering new experiences. I tend to surprise myself. That's a fulfilling, exciting feeling. The other side of the coin is, of course, that rootedness is comfortable. Expectations can also be comfortable, especially when they are mutual. There is a certainty to it that is not so easily established when you arrive in a new place. Perhaps this is something I will long for later in life. Perhaps not. At this moment though, the discomfort of novelty translates itself into that which in Dutch we call zelfontplooiing. I've always found that such a beautiful word. Something along the lines of self-development, or self-unraveling, more accurately. And there is much more unraveling to be done still.

...all this philosophizing over a movie about chocolate.

Vianne feels the north wind calling to her when her stay has come to an end. It is when she is probably at the brink of laying down roots, falling into repetitive routines. Then it becomes too real, and it's time to start over. Reinvent herself. Allow new connections to shape her again for the foreseeable future. I hope that wind will remain at bay for me for a while, but I wonder where it will take me once it picks up.

Soundtrack-appreciation

Chocolat's film score involves some fantastic jazz manouche à la Django Reinhardt. Completely fitting for the joyous, passionate, and lively spirit of our main character. This one's my favorite.