"Like Water for Chocolate" A Review by Linda Lopez McAlister April 17, 1993 I usually don't review a film unless it's playing in the area or available on video so listeners can run right out and see it if they want to. I'm going to make an exception to that today because there's nothing playing this week in Tampa that I wanted to review and, last week while I was visiting Minneapolis, I saw a film I love so much I can't wait to tell you about it. Tuck this one away in your memory for future reference--it will get to Tampa eventually and when it does, it's one you have to see. It's called "Like Water for Chocolate"--an unusual title and an unusual film, to say the least. This is a Mexican film, directed by Alfonso Arau, with a screenplay by Laura Esquival based on her best-selling Mexican novel "Como Agua para Chocolate." The title refers to the Mexican way of making hot chocolate where the water is repeatedly brought just to the boiling point where it thickens and seethes and becomes agitated as more and more chocolate is added. And it's a perfect title for this magical comedy about seething passions and sensual delights, both sexual and gustatory. The film is framed by a contemporary Mexican woman telling us how much she cries when she chops onions and then launching into the story of her great aunt Tita who was born around the turn of the century and who lived on her family's ranch on the Mexican- Texas border area during the Mexican Revolution. Tita was born on the kitchen table where the cook had been chopping onions; during the birth her mother cried such a volume of tears that the next day when the deluge dried there was enough salt remaining to fill a gunny sack. That's only the beginning of the fairy-tale-like magic hyperbole around food that makes this such a delightful film. Tita is the youngest daughter of a stern widow who believes that, as the youngest, it's Tita's responsibility not to marry but to stay at home and take care of her mother. Tita (played by Lumi Cavosos) falls in love with handsome Pedro (Marco Leonardi), but her mother absolutely refuses to grant permission for them to marry. She suggests instead that Pedro marry her eldest daughter Rosaura (Yareli Arizmendi), and, in order to be in close proximity to Tita he agrees. Tita's great gift (she was, after all, born on a kitchen table) is her culinary talent so she is put in charge of the cooking of the wedding feast. As she stirs the batter for the wedding cake the night before the wedding her tears fall into the batter, and we know we're in a magical place because, the next day, when the wedding guests dig in to the cake, each one of them is overcome by sadness and bursts into tears. This magical ability of Tita's to infuse her feelings into food and pass them along to others reaches its height when her now brother-in-law Pedro brings her a lover's boquet of roses on the pretext that she has been the family cook for a year. She presses it to her breast and the thorns draw blood, some of which finds its way into the quail with rose petal sauce she's making for lunch. The ensuing sequence showing everyone at the lunch table being overcome with paroxysms of unspoken sexual desire is one of the funniest I've seen in years. The middle daughter, Gertrudis, gets so hot she runs out to take a cold shower and sets the wooden shower shack on fire with her body heat. One of Pancho Villa's soldiers in the area, attracted by the passionate aroma of rose petals, sweeps her naked from the fire and rides off with her; when we see her again years later she's a general in Pancho Villa's Revolutionary Army. This should give you a little taste of the sensuous magic that leavens this delightful family saga covering several decades on both sides of the border. I won't tell you how it ends but, like the rest of this cinematic feast, the final course of "Like Water for Chocolate" is spectacular--a filmic flambed dessert. I loved this delectable cinematic treat and I'm sure you will too. But you'd better buy popcorn. The food in this film is so gorgeous and all-pervasive you'll be salivating the whole time. For the WMNF Women's Show this is Linda Lopez McAlister on women and film.