Verbotene Sehnsucht

In reflecting on this movie I can think of two others to help put it in perspective. One relatively forgettable but covering the same geography, is Coup de Torchon, the other thousands of miles away and much larger in scope is the unforgettable Indochine. Claire Denis has produced a movie that has some of the grand underpinnings of Indochine, the complex and unspoken relationship between France and her colonial subjects.

I was struck with the dignity of Potee, with his struggle to maintain his dignity among his peers and with his white bosses. I was also struck with the love/hate relationship between him and Aimee. It is the latter that gives the film its driving force, it is the latter that links this movie to Indochine.

One never is sure what motivates everyone, though some of the characters are required of a remembrance of colonialism. It is this cynical side of the story that ties it to Coup de Torchon. Theirs is the more scandalous story, perhaps even more interesting in a depraved way, but Denis gives us a remembrance of how it was with all the tension and unresolved relationships.

The American black who gives the grown up France a ride in the beginning and end of the movie offers yet another interesting side to the confusion that we in the Western world have when we look at Africa. He says that when he came he wanted to call everyone brother. He was coming home, but they just thought him to be a little daft. France, the character and the girl, grew up in Cameroon, but neither fully understands what it is even though they can remember how it was.

My 3rd-year French classes always enjoyed this film very much. In a multi-cultural, inner-city high school, the film provided many subjects for discussion (in French in class, but I know a lot of discussion went on in English after class). The most obvious is the relationship between Protée and Aimée compared to the one between Protée and France.

I always mentioned that I felt this film had one of the "sexiest" scenes I had ever seen in a movie. One year, a 17-year-old African-American shouted, "Yes!" when he figured out the scene: the one where Protée is helping Aimée lace up her evening dress, all the while both are examining the reflection of the other in the mirror. Directors use the "mirror technique" when then want to focus on the inner conflict on the part of one or more character in a scene: this is a perfect example of the technique, and it is "sexy".

Most students had trouble understanding the end of the film. One suggested that one theme of the movie was "Africanism", and that no matter how much one loved Africa or Africans, one cannot "become" African (like the driver tried to do): one must BE African.

I think this movie would be more enjoyable if everyone thought of it as a picture of colonial Africa in the 50's and 60's rather than as a story. Because there is no real story here. Just one vignette on top of another like little points of light that don't mean much until you have enough to paint a picture. The first time I saw Chocolat I didn't really "get it" until having thought about it for a few days. Then I realized there were lots of things to "get", including the end of colonialism which was but around the corner, just no plot. Anyway, it's one of my all-time favorite movies. The scene at the airport with the brief shower and beautiful music was sheer poetry. If you like "exciting" movies, don't watch this--you'll be bored to tears. But, for some of you..., you can thank me later for recommending it to you.

Elusive, introspective memories of a childhood in colonial Africa are recalled through the eyes of a self-possessed young girl with the telltale name France. In her calm, observant demeanor she is, herself, almost African, and likewise the film is beautiful and aloof in a way that speaks volumes with a minimum of words. Nothing is ever made explicit, least of all the suppressed attraction between France's young mother, left in charge of a remote homestead while her husband is away on business, and the handsome native houseboy who suffers his servitude with a proud but uneasy forbearance. Writer director Claire Denis shows a strong affinity for the landscapes and people of her adopted continent, maintaining a beguiling ambiguity about who exactly has the upper hand: the French masters or the passive, patient native servants.

Despite needing something more for me in its wrap-up, Claire Denis' Chocolat is in all ways a really good look into Cameroon and France's colonial history. Unlike the case of some films made in the US, it doesn't hammer the audience with a message about white people's ugliness, instead it just carefully shows them, and sort of leaves the audience the responsibility to observe and be horrified. It's amazing how a narrative like this with a white lead is so carefully handled that it doesn't make excuses for that privilege, and doesn't paint her as an exception or, a favorite Hollywood trope, the white savior. Isaach De Bankolé is also key here. When his character cracks it's not obvious why he does, but it's in the little expressions and reactions to the things he hears and witnesses that should explain it.