Despite having flourished into one of the most acclaimed and arguably inventive filmmakers of her generation, Claire Denis has always been quite a reflective filmmaker, someone whose work is driven by her memories and experiences of the past. The majority of her most celebrated films tend to be examinations of postcolonial Africa, which comes from her childhood growing up as the daughter of diplomats who made their home in various corners of Africa, allowing Denis to grow up surrounded by a culture starkly different from her own, and which informed her understanding of the world around her. One of her most clear and captivating explorations of the continent and its people is in her directorial debut, the incredibly poignant and layered Chocolat, a semi-autobiographical account of a young girl who navigates day-to-day life in rural Cameroon, where her parents hold court as diplomats in the French colony, and where our young protagonist (suitably named “France”) befriends Protée, whose name is a reference to the mythological sea entity that was most commonly associated with the changing tide (which does factor into the narrative in subtle but interesting ways for those who pay attention), the family’s dedicated manservant, and who proves to be the secondary perspective from which the story is viewed. A gloriously intriguing, captivating drama that finds Denis emerging as a director with an almost fully-formed vision, and a fascinating examination of Africa before and after the days of colonialism, Chocolat is a major achievement that immediately established Denis as a true talent, and despite the film being slightly rough around the edges and quite raw in both its narrative structure and visual sensibilities, it all proves to be exceptionally compelling. It grows into a truly wonderful introduction to the stunning world that Denis would go on to explore consistently throughout her storied career, this being a solid and profoundly moving entry-point into her unique perspective, in its most unpolished and earnest form.

A film like Chocolat is strong enough to not need to depend on too much more than the story, especially since Denis lays out her intentions quite clearly throughout this film, which is a powerful and poignant examination of life in Africa towards the end of the colonial period, much of it being plucked from her recollections at the time since she was roughly the same age as the protagonist of this film in the period where it takes place. Simplicity has often been something that the director has used as one of her most essential tools. While she has made a few more complex, layered films in the past, the ones that tend to leave the most substantial impression are those that follow a simple premise and don’t strive to be too heavy-handed or didactic. All Denis needed to tell this story was the stunning landscapes of Cameroon, and a few period-specific details, which she uses to spin this wonderfully captivating tale about a young girl growing up in a world rapidly changing. Most of Chocolat is told through a slightly stream-of-consciousness approach, where the story constitutes a series of vignettes, focused on the daily routine of this family as they make their home in Cameroon, interacting with the locals and establishing a presence as part of the colonial project, trying to maintain the tranquility of the countryside in which they live, but also participating in the continued attempts to bring the country and its people in line with the supposedly superior European influence. Denis chooses to make a film in which nothing much happens in a traditional sense – the story flows consistently, and while it can sometimes meander slightly, it never feels frustrating, since Chocolat is very much a film about capturing a specific mood, and the atmospheric tone (which is evoked through her incredibly beautiful, poetic writing, as well as the cinematography by Robert Alazraki and the gorgeous score by Abdullah Ibrahim, whose compositions complement the images perfectly) speaks directly to the underlying themes we find scattered throughout this vibrant and captivating story.

Over time, it has become extremely clear that the nostalgia Denis holds for her childhood in Africa is not to be mistaken as any kind of endorsement for the colonial project – she’s addressed the sometimes violent and unsettling nature of imperialism in many of her other films, which serve to be more scathing indictments on European colonialism and how it was a mainly destructive force in a continent that is still struggling to recover from the brutal and harsh realities their communities faced for centuries while they were under French law. Chocolat is not as harsh as other similarly-themed films, but it certainly refuses to condone the subject. Instead, it takes quite a unique approach, exploring several deeper themes that may seem rudimentary on the surface, but are much more complex than we’d expect from the outset. Centering the film on the friendship between an impressionable young girl who has only recently started to comprehend the world that surrounds her, and the loyal but conflicted manservant who becomes her closest confidante, is a wonderful way to examine colonialism simply and elegantly, one that doesn’t need to resort to overwrought commentary purely for the sake of making its politics and perspective clear. A story of two unlikely companions that exist on opposite ends of the cultural and socio-economic spectrum, but yet prove to be unexpectedly kindred spirits, Chocolat is a warm and fascinating account of the final days of colonialism – the film is set in 1957, and Cameroon would achieve independence only three years later, meaning that what we witness throughout this film is essentially the final stages of colonial rule in the country, and the social changes become clearer as the film progresses, particularly in how the character of Protée factors into the story, going from someone whose entire future seemed defined by the extent of his service to his employers, to seeing a path towards independence. In many ways, Protée represents the African proletariat as a whole, careful to not stir discord amongst the colonial occupants, but quietly fighting for freedom in subtle ways. Chocolat is a poignant exploration of a country changing, and Denis’ tender, heartfelt and genuinely intriguing voyage into the past.

Not only was Chocolat the first feature-length directorial outing for Denis, but it was also the breakthrough performance of Isaach de Bankolé, who has come to represent global cinema through his many collaborations with several auteurs over the years. This was not his first film, but it was the one that introduced him to a much wider audience – and it takes a very special connection between a director and her actor to create such a memorable, heartfelt performance that is as quietly resilient as it is outwardly poignant and meaningful. Much like the film that surrounds him, de Bankolé’s performance is drawn from a place of stoicism, capturing the most intimate details of a character who would be an ambigious, uninteresting cypher in just about any other film. Denis crafts Protée as a much more complex figure – he’s not the centre of the story, and his perspective is secondary to that of the younger protagonist, played by Cécile Ducasse and who functions as Denis’ surrogate in the story, yet he is still the aspect of the film that is most compelling and memorable. The film never once looks down on him or treats him as merely a supporting character in the daily routine of the Europeans which seems to be the focus at the start, and whether this was a choice made by Denis in terms of highlighting de Bankolé and his extraordinary talents, or simply a result of his immense charm that is so distinctive that the film could not resist making him the centre of many scenes remains to be seen, but it’s one of the most poignant and compelling performances of the decade and a tremendous early entry into one of the most fascinating careers in global cinema. The supporting cast is comprised of some equally terrific performances, such as Giulia Boschi and François Cluzet as the protagonist’s parents, who are far more ingrained in the more unfortunate side of colonial theory, while the sprawling ensemble of local and lesser-known African actors adds layers of nuance and authenticity to an already complex film.

Denis has become something of a folkloric figure in French cinema – her style is clear. Still, it seems to shift in both form and content depending on the subject she is exploring. She has shown considerable prowess for challenging genre on multiple occasions in the past, or subverting traditional style of storytelling in various ways. Chocolat is perhaps her most simple film in terms of both style and subject matter, yet it’s also one of her most profoundly moving, which is not something we would necessarily expect from a debut, especially one as simple as this one. Her style was undeniably still developing, and as a result, the film was slightly less polished. Still, Denis uses her status as a novice (as well as years of working alongside other filmmakers in other positions) as a way to craft this tender and memorable narrative about the day-to-day life of people under the colonial system. It makes very few sweeping statements about the nature of imperialism as a whole, but there’s a solid foundation around which this film is built that is genuinely quite memorable and proves to be deeply captivating and earnest in a range of different ways. It’s not the most academic film, but Denis relies on her reflections to create this layered meditation on the past and everything that it represents, which proves to be a far more invigorating experience. Complex, beautifully crafted and genuinely quite moving, Chocolat is a wonderful examination of a specific moment in the past, handcrafted by a director who handles it with extraordinary prowess and tremendous attention to detail that makes it very clear why she became one of the most formative filmmakers of her generation and a truly singular talent whose gifts were present from the start.