This evening, snow on the ground and cups of tea in hand, my
roommate and I curled up to watch the movie Chocolat.
And I’m not exactly sure how, but I know that Jesus was in
that movie.
Vianne, the mysterious and provocative heroine of the film, moves
to a tranquil French village to open up a chocolate shop. She is unlike any creature the town has ever encountered. She is womanly, warm, and alive. She has rosy cheeks and wears fantastic red
pumps every day. She rescues a woman from an abusive husband. She befriends a dying widow. She
falls in love with a pirate.
She makes her home among the misfits and outcasts.
Vianne is a disruption to this little town in so many ways. She forces people to come to terms with their
desires: for chocolate, for love, for sex, for freedom, for excitement, for
honesty.
She is vivacious and interesting and unheard of.
The mayor of the town, a very righteous and religious man,
is so very afraid of Vianne; and of freedom, in general. He’s afraid of losing control, losing power,
losing social clout. And so he invites the village to fear her, too. They mock and reject her.
That is, until they see how attractive her life is. Until
they step into her shop and feel safe for the first time. Until they taste her
chocolate.
Late one night, as his control over the village rapidly unravels,
the mayor breaks in to her chocolate shop to put an end to this freedom once
and for all. While destroying her
beautiful display, a small taste of the delicious treat lands seductively on
his bottom lip. He tastes it: it is
even more delicious than he imagined. Frenzied,
he stuffs his face full of chocolates before collapsing in a heap of broken
sobs.
The next morning, Vianne finds him asleep, stretched across
her shop window with evidence of last night’s offenses all over his face and
hands. And then she does something so
beautiful:
She offers him a glass of water. She promises that it will refresh him. She promises that she will not tell.
She offers him grace.
She undercuts his religion with love.
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