Remember those independent bookstores that felt less like shops and more like sanctuaries? Places brimming with ideas, vibrant conversations, and maybe just a hint of defiance against the mainstream? That vibrant, welcoming energy pulses right at the core of Anne Wheeler's 1999 Canadian gem, Better Than Chocolate. It arrived on the scene not with a bang, but with a warm, inviting smile – a film offering sweetness and light, yet unafraid to touch upon the thorny realities faced by its characters. For many viewers discovering it back then, perhaps on a sought-after VHS tape passed between friends or found nestled in the LGBTQ+ section of a discerning video store, it felt like finding a comforting haven on screen.
A Taste of Vancouver Bohemia
The setup is charmingly simple yet ripe with potential: Maggie (Karyn Dwyer), adrift after dropping out of law school, crashes with her friend Frances (Christina Cox) who runs the titular bookstore, "Ten Percent Books." Sparks fly immediately between Maggie and the free-spirited artist Kim (Christina Cox, radiating effortless charisma). Their burgeoning romance is sweet, passionate, and feels refreshingly grounded. The complication? Maggie's recently separated mother, Lila (Wendy Crewson, delivering a nuanced performance), unexpectedly arrives for a visit, forcing Maggie back into the closet just as she’s stepping out. Add to this a subplot involving the bookstore facing censorship challenges from Canada Customs over imported materials, and you have a narrative weaving together personal discovery with broader community struggles. Doesn't this balancing act – finding personal joy amidst external pressures – feel eternally relevant?
Chemistry That Sparkles
What truly elevates Better Than Chocolate beyond a standard rom-com is the palpable connection between its leads. Karyn Dwyer captures Maggie's vulnerability and burgeoning confidence beautifully, making her journey of self-acceptance relatable and touching. Alongside her, Christina Cox as Kim is a magnetic force – playful, sensual, and utterly comfortable in her own skin. Their chemistry isn't just about romantic heat; it’s about the believable tenderness and support they offer each other. You genuinely root for them, feeling their giddy highs and navigating their awkward moments right alongside them. It’s the kind of authentic portrayal that resonates long after the credits roll, reminding us how powerful simple, honest connection can be on screen.
Supporting them, Wendy Crewson as Lila is exceptional. Her character could easily have become a caricature – the flustered, disapproving mother. Instead, Crewson imbues Lila with confusion, hurt, and ultimately, a capacity for growth that feels earned. Her journey mirrors Maggie’s in a way, forcing her to confront her own assumptions and fears. It’s a performance that adds significant emotional weight to the film.
More Than Just Sweetness: Trivia and Context
Better Than Chocolate wears its Canadian identity comfortably. Filmed primarily in Vancouver, it captures the specific vibe of areas like Commercial Drive, known for its independent spirit. This sense of place feels authentic, grounding the story.
- Retro Fun Fact #1: The film's evocative title isn't just a clever phrase; it's a direct lift from a lyric in fellow Canadian Sarah McLachlan's popular 1994 song "Ice Cream" ("Your love is better than chocolate"). This connection instantly roots the film in a specific late-90s cultural sensibility, associating it with McLachlan's themes of emotional honesty and female empowerment. It was a smart, resonant choice.
- Retro Fun Fact #2: The subplot involving the bookstore's fight against censorship wasn't mere fiction. It directly mirrors the real-life struggles faced by LGBTQ+ bookstores in Canada, most notably Vancouver's own Little Sister's Book and Art Emporium, which engaged in lengthy legal battles with Canada Customs over the seizure of imported materials deemed "obscene." This grounding in reality lends the film an unexpected layer of activist history, reminding viewers of battles fought for visibility and freedom of expression.
- Retro Fun Fact #3: Made on a relatively modest budget (around CAD $1.5 million), Better Than Chocolate became a notable success on the film festival circuit, winning audience awards and finding a dedicated following, especially within the LGBTQ+ community. Its US gross of nearly $2 million might seem small by blockbuster standards, but for an independent Canadian lesbian rom-com in 1999, it represented a significant achievement and proved there was an audience hungry for these stories.
Warmth, Wit, and Lasting Resonance
Anne Wheeler directs with a light touch, prioritizing character moments and emotional beats over flashy stylistics. The film maintains a generally optimistic and often humorous tone, even when dealing with potentially heavy subjects like coming out anxiety or discrimination. The humour feels organic, arising from character interactions and relatable situations, rather than forced gags.
Does the plot sometimes follow predictable paths? Perhaps. Are some character arcs resolved a bit too neatly? Arguably. But these minor quibbles scarcely detract from the film's overall charm and significance. Watching it today, there's a distinct nostalgia not just for the late 90s aesthetic, but for a time when a film this openly joyful and affirming about lesbian love felt like a quiet revolution. It presented queer lives not as tragic or defined solely by struggle, but as capable of immense happiness, community connection, and yes, romance sweeter than any confection.
Rating Justification & Final Thought
Rating: 7/10
This score reflects the film's undeniable charm, the winning performances (especially the central chemistry), and its importance as a piece of positive LGBTQ+ representation from its era. It earns points for its warmth, gentle humour, and the successful integration of the censorship subplot which adds unexpected depth. It avoids a higher score primarily because some plot elements feel somewhat conventional within the rom-com structure, and certain resolutions might strike modern viewers as a touch idealistic. However, its heartfelt sincerity and the sheer joy it brought to audiences searching for reflections of their own lives make it a valuable and fondly remembered entry in late-90s indie cinema.
What lingers most powerfully after watching Better Than Chocolate again isn't necessarily a specific plot point, but the overall feeling – a sense of warmth, acceptance, and the enduring power of finding your community, your voice, and maybe even love, in the places that feel most like home. It remains a comforting cinematic treat.