Chocolat
2000
Serge: We are still married, in the eyes of God. Josephine: Then He must be blind.
Vianne Rocher: What do you see? Armande Voizin: Not a damned thing. Vianne Rocher: Come on. It's a game. What do you see? Armande Voizin: I see a cranky old woman too tired to play games. Vianne Rocher: I've got just the thing for you.
Père Henri: (hearing confession) What else? Guillaume Blerot: Impure thoughts. The woman who runs the chocolaterie. Père Henri: Vianne Rocher? Guillaume Blerot: She suggested I buy chocolate sea shells for the widow Audel and I guess that got me thinking about the widow Audel. Père Henri: At her age? At your age? Guillaume Blerot: Yes, and yes.
Luc Clairmont: (at confession) Each time I tell myself it's the last time but then I get a whiff of a hot chocolate... Madame Audel: Chocolate seashells, so small, so innocent. I thought it wouldn't do any harm just to taste but it turns out they were filled with rich, creamy... Francoise Drou: And, God forgive me, it melts ever so slowly on your tongue and tortures you with pleasure...
Luc Clairmont: Grandmère, bonjour. Armande Voizin: Would you, um, like... Luc Clairmont: No, thank you. I'm just here to do a portrait. Armande Voizin: Whose? Vianne Rocher: Yours actually. Is the light OK where she's sitting?
Storyteller: Even the Comte de Reynaud felt strangely... released. Although it would take another six months for him to work up the courage to ask Caroline out to dinner.
Vianne Rocher: Would you like some cake? Luc Clairmont: I'm not supposed to. Armande Voizin: Don't worry so much about not supposed to.
Luc Clairmont: Happy birthday, Grandmère. Armande Voizin: The invitation said five o'clock. Luc Clairmont: I should have read it more closely. Armande Voizin: If you had you would know there were supposed to be no gifts. Luc Clairmont: Don't worry so much about not supposed to.
Storyteller: But still the clever north wind was not satisfied. It spoke to Vianne of towns yet to be visited, friends in need yet to be discovered, battles yet to be fought (Vianne throws her mother's ashes to the wind) By someone else next time.
Comte de Reynaud: A new addition to the liturgy?
Vianne Rocher: Would you like to buy something special for your lady friend? Guillaume Blerot: My lady friend? Vianne Rocher: Yes, the woman your dog was fond of. Guillaume Blerot: Oh, I mustn't. Mme Audel is in mourning for her husband. Vianne Rocher: Oh. I'm sorry. When did he die? Guillaume Blerot: The war. A German grenade. Vianne Rocher: Well, it's been 15 years since the war. Guillaume Blerot: Not that war. M Audel was killed on the 12th January 1917. It was quite a blow to Mme Audel. Vianne Rocher: Apparently so.
Vianne Rocher: I have two announcements. If you enjoyed what you ate here, you're going to love my chocolate festival on Sunday. Armande Voizin: Advertise on your own time. What's for dessert? Vianne Rocher: That brings me to announcement number two. There's no dessert here tonight. (guests sound disappointed) Because it's on Roux's boat. Armande Voizin: Any complaints, see me.
Roux: (taking time to thoroughly taste the earthworm he has just eaten) Subtle... Zesty? Disgusting.
Armande Voizin: Your cinnamon looks rancid. Vianne Rocher: It's not cinnamon, it's a special kind of chili pepper. Armande Voizin: Chili pepper in hot chocolate?
Armande Voizin: I've got something for you boy. I've been carrying it around since your last birthday. It's a book of poetry. You don't like poetry? Luc Clairmont: Yes, of course I do. Armande Voizin: Neither do I. It's not that kind of poetry.
Roux: How does Anouk feel about it? Vianne Rocher: What? Roux: All the moving around. Vianne Rocher: She's fine. She handles it beautifully, she makes friends easily, such unusual... (looks at Roux) She hates it. She hates it.
Vianne Rocher: And these are for your husband, to waken the passion. Francoise Drou: You've obviously never met my husband. Vianne Rocher: You've obviously never tried these.
Francoise Drou: Do you have any more of those bean thingies, please? Vianne Rocher: How many do you want? Francoise Drou: How many have you got?
Caroline Clairmont: It can't be easy, having her gone. Comte de Reynaud: I can't seem to get used to it. No matter how much time passes. Caroline Clairmont: I don't believe anyone would think less of you if you were to say she was never coming back.
Armande Voizin: (reading poetry to Luc) Perfectly wretched, isn't it? Luc Clairmont: Perfectly.
Roux: How's the door? Vianne Rocher: It squeaks. Roux: Does it?
Comte de Reynaud: I hear you are harbouring Mme Muscat. Vianne Rocher: You make her sound like a fugitive. Comte de Reynaud: She *is* a fugitive. From her marriage vows which have been sanctified by God. Vianne Rocher: Joséphine? Can you come out here a moment? Let his grace take a look at you. (shows the Comte a huge bruise on Joséphine's head) Is that sanctified enough for you? It's not the first time. Comte de Reynaud: I am sorry. You should have come to me. Your husband will be made to repent for this. Josephine: Tell him to repent on someone else's head.
Roux: Very good... but not my favorite.
Boy #1: I hear she's an atheist. Boy #2: What's that? Boy #1: I don't know.
Père Henri: I think we can't go around measuring our goodness by what we don't do - by what we deny ourselves, what we resist and who we exclude. I think we've got to measure goodness by what we embrace, what we create and who we include.
Roux: I'll come 'round sometime and get that squeak out of your door.
Josephine: (hitting her husband over the head with a cooking pan) Who says I can't use a skillet?
Comte de Reynaud: Let me put this in perspective for you. The first Comte de Reynaud expelled all the radical Huguenots in this village. You and your truffles present a far lesser challenge.
Storyteller: Once upon a time there was a quiet little village in the French countryside - whose people believed in Tranquilité - Tranquility.
Armande Voizin: What's the décor? Early Mexican brothel?
Josephine: You don't misbehave here. It's just not done, did you know that? If you don't go to confession, if you don't... dig your flowerbeds, 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... then you're crazy.
Roux: I thought you'd never guess. My favourite - hot chocolate.
Roux: You make friends with us, you make enemies with others.
Vianne Rocher: Would you like some nipples of Venus?
Anouk Rocher: (after having been discovered by Vianne after flouncing in from school in a tearful temper) Are you Satan's helper? Then why can't you wear black shoes like the other mothers?