Greg's Movie Review of "Chocalat"

Our nephew Greg has a special talent for movie review.  Here is his latest.

Mark

From: "Gregory M. Ford" gmford@best.com

Subject: "Chocolat" Gave Me The Runs!

God help me.  I don't know why, but I saw "Chocolat" last night.  I think I needed a little "art" in my life, so I figured blowing $8.50 on some tripe was a good way to start.

So here's this quaint little French town, where everyone is polite, everyone bows and curtsies, and everyone goes to church on Sunday. And in blows Mademoiselle Tart-A-Lot (She wears red shoes!  Quelle horror!) to seduce the town with her Lent-defying lard-laden diarrhea-inducing sickly-sweet chocolate!  But the good news is, no dentists will be going hungry, because it's painfully obvious that none of the villagers believe in them.

One by one, they walk into her "shoppe" -- load up on some free samples, and walk out clenching their butt cheeks all the way home. One can only imagine the collective din generated by all the villagers suffering explosive diarrhea at the same time.  It must have made the WWII bombings feel like Mr. Blackwell at a Backstreet Boys concert.

So just when she thinks the town's got her beat, in washes Johnny Depp on his luxury yacht, calling himself a "river rat" (the PC term for "gypsy," I think).  It might have worked if he didn't look like he spent the day at Elizabeth Arden and Fred Segal.  I may not know much, but you'll never find me mixing Armani and Tommy Hilfiger on the same day.  And you know he's in the mood for some chocolate love, 'cuz she's all over him like a ho at a bachelor party.

Well, it goes on and on.  Her wardrobe gets more riss-kay, the villagers get more appalled, and there's endless chocolate-as-sex/sex-as-chocolate imagery for you to feast upon.

Meanwhile, Judi Dench is great as the proverbial "pasty hag on a deathbed."  Come on, that's not a spoiler!  You just know that when there's a character like that in a film, they'll be taking a dirt nap real soon.

And Carrie-Anne Moss seemed a little out of her league, playing the doting mother.  I kept imaging that she'd get all confused one day, and mistakenly show up to shoot a scene in her "Trinity" outfit, rather than her dull Joan Crawford get-ups.

As I staggered out of the theater, feeling slightly more sophisticated, I couldn't help but think to myself: Silly villagers. When will they learn that salvation lies not with sugary-coated chocolate treats, but with a syringe, a lighter and a bent spoon!