Hallmark Channel has done it again; and by "it," I mean forced out another movie with all the thrills and intrigue of an optometrist's waiting room. Starring Eloise Mumford as "Lucy Sweet" (because of COURSE the chocolatier protagonist's surname is 'Sweet') and Dan Jeannotte as "Dean Chase" (he's a reporter...and his last name is Chase...and catering for the film was provided by a man named Cook, I'm sure), the film follows Lucy as she prepares for her business's busiest time of the year: Valentine's Day. Lucy is a chocolatier, which is somewhat difficult to discern, as it's only mentioned four or five times every minute, leaving audiences to wonder at times if the pace of the plot might be a bit too breakneck. The décor and layout of her poorly-lit chocolate shop may be best described as "Uncomplicated" or even "You remember the chocolate factory from Willy Wonka? Imagine that, but in reverse." The shelves (of which there are approximately two) are lined with austere boxes of...something. Chocolate, maybe? It's impossible to tell. A glass display case holds samplings of the shop's most popular confections, allowing the viewing audience to marvel at the wonder of at least three different varieties of identical chocolates.
Lucy's greatest claim to fame is her family's special treat: The Chocolate Cupids. If you forget that they're called Cupids, don't worry; the movie will remind you literally every time a character speaks. Why are they called chocolate Cupids, do you ask? Is it because they're shaped like little naked Cherubs? No; they're plain truffles with some sort of syrupy filling. It's like a Ferrero Rocher, but worse in every conceivable way. It isn't the taste of the chocolate that makes it famous, however - it's (I promise I'm not making this up) the treat's evident ability to make couples fall in love with each other. This point is stressed within the first half-fractal of a millisecond by Lucy's best friend, Serena, who is the human version of what would happen if a Pomeranian forgot to take its Ritalin and got really into energy drinks.
After enduring several minutes of Lucy half-whispering and twitching nervously any time someone glances in her direction, we move to Dean Chase, a reporter with a proclivity for exposing fake stories (including one about giant, fake zucchinis; sometimes, the jokes write themselves). The most memorable thing about Dean is that, although the plot doesn't mention it in any way, shape, or form, he evidently has some sort of lung disorder, as he is incapable of delivering even the briefest line without first sucking in enough air to launch a dirigible.
Dean's boss directs him to create an expose on the Chocolate Cupids, presumably because the town in which the story takes place (I think it was called Valentine; because OF COURE it is) is about as exciting as playing "Battleship" by yourself. Dean hurries to Lucy Sweet's Sweet shop, where he immediately runs into Lucy herself (they had, of course, already run into each other earlier that day, because they have a rare vision defect that doesn't allow them to see things directly in front of them) and starts monologuing about his plan to expose the Chocolate Cupids as the diabolical lie that they are. This, of course, sours Lucy's opinion of him, though she doesn't let her disdain show - mostly because she's incapable of showing any emotion other than "nervous schoolgirl about to ask her crush to go see 'Minions: Rise of Gru' with her."
Dean begs Lucy to give him just five minutes of her time. Lucy agrees, and soon after allows Dean to interview her about the chocolate shop. It is revealed during the interview that Lucy has never sampled one of the Chocolate Cupids (disregarding the #1 rule of renowned chef Mung Daal, "To make good food, a good chef must always taste it"), because she lives in perpetual dread of its potent ability to make people fall in love. This in turn reveals Lucy's crippling commitment issues, which can be stimulated by the mere thought of eating a freaking bonbon, but Dean doesn't seem to catch onto this.
For reasons beyond the explanation of science or reason, the interview goes over very well, prompting Dean's boss to send him back to Lucy for more information about a single item in a family-owned chocolate shop. Lucy brings in various couples who've all tried the chocolate Cupids together; most of them, though, acknowledge that the supernatural chocolates didn't really corelate directly with them finding love, but rather that they did, at some point, eat the chocolates, and later, at some other point, they fell in love. This forms an interesting link between the chocolates and literally everything else that can happen in a person's life, insinuating that the candies holds sway not only over people's romantic lives, but over their opportunities to find new jobs, to try new foods, to stop watching "Friends" because it's trash, and even death itself. If you eat of the Cupids, you will surely die. None of the characters pick up on this little caveat, though; doubtless, they're too busy wondering how two people with as little chemistry as Lucy and Dean could possibly be considered love interests. It's like if plain white bread was matched with another piece of plain white bread; it's not outright disgusting, per say, but it's certainly no sandwich.
During the interviews, Lucy's irritating friend, Serena, learns that her boyfriend (whom she found, according to herself and perhaps even one of her many therapists, via the divine intervention of the sacred Cupids) is still in contact with a woman he went on a single date with a long time ago. This is, of course, crushing information for Serena, who firmly believes that a man in a committed relationship (specifically with her) shouldn't acknowledge the existence of other women in any way, shape, or form. She later has a heart-to-heart with Lucy about it, but it really doesn't affect the plot at all, so who cares?
At some point because reasons Lucy has to go with Dean to some sort of company Valentine's Day party. She dresses very fancy, and he does his best. They almost do a kiss. More stuff happens. Lucy doesn't want to eat a chocolate because an old boyfriend did something hurtful. To be honest, I dozed off at this point. I think Lucy showed Dean how to make the dang chocolates or something, but wouldn't tell him the secret ingredient. I could've easily just been thinking about the Secret Ingredient Soup from Dreamwork's Kung Fu Panda, though. I'm USUALLY thinking about Kung Fu Panda.
Later, after I was awoken by a dull pain in my spine that comes with being over the age of 30, I learned that Dean had gone to interview for an anchor position in New York. He turned back up just in time for the big interview (because the news station was STILL fascinated by the stupid bonbons for some reason) with Lucy. Live on the air, he and Lucy both ate the Cupids, and then made out on camera while a gleeful crowd of closeted perverts cheered them on. Lucy says that the secret ingredient is courage, because "love" would've been too easy.
Overall, "Sweeter than Chocolate" was about as memorable as a glass of water. Neither Lucy nor Dean were reprehensible (as is the case with the majority of Hallmark movies), but they also weren't in any way interesting, unless you're intrigued by things like dust motes or the color beige. This movie really could've benefitted from Jessica Lowndes pretending to be a singer, or Lacey Chabert trying to make us all forget that she once played Gretchen Wieners. I don't believe I've ever seen Eloise Mumford act in anything before; after watching "Sweeter than Chocolate," I'm still not sure I've seen her act in anything. The ending would've been better if Serena had choked on a Cupid, rendering her mute for the rest of her life. Why do I watch these things? I mean, I know why I watch the Jessica Lowndes ones, but why the rest? Is it my desire to have my own twisted version of MST3K or Rifftrax, or some Pharisaical effort to atone for my own inherent sinfulness? I know only one thing for sure: No one watches these because they're quality cinema.
Lucy's greatest claim to fame is her family's special treat: The Chocolate Cupids. If you forget that they're called Cupids, don't worry; the movie will remind you literally every time a character speaks. Why are they called chocolate Cupids, do you ask? Is it because they're shaped like little naked Cherubs? No; they're plain truffles with some sort of syrupy filling. It's like a Ferrero Rocher, but worse in every conceivable way. It isn't the taste of the chocolate that makes it famous, however - it's (I promise I'm not making this up) the treat's evident ability to make couples fall in love with each other. This point is stressed within the first half-fractal of a millisecond by Lucy's best friend, Serena, who is the human version of what would happen if a Pomeranian forgot to take its Ritalin and got really into energy drinks.
After enduring several minutes of Lucy half-whispering and twitching nervously any time someone glances in her direction, we move to Dean Chase, a reporter with a proclivity for exposing fake stories (including one about giant, fake zucchinis; sometimes, the jokes write themselves). The most memorable thing about Dean is that, although the plot doesn't mention it in any way, shape, or form, he evidently has some sort of lung disorder, as he is incapable of delivering even the briefest line without first sucking in enough air to launch a dirigible.
Dean's boss directs him to create an expose on the Chocolate Cupids, presumably because the town in which the story takes place (I think it was called Valentine; because OF COURE it is) is about as exciting as playing "Battleship" by yourself. Dean hurries to Lucy Sweet's Sweet shop, where he immediately runs into Lucy herself (they had, of course, already run into each other earlier that day, because they have a rare vision defect that doesn't allow them to see things directly in front of them) and starts monologuing about his plan to expose the Chocolate Cupids as the diabolical lie that they are. This, of course, sours Lucy's opinion of him, though she doesn't let her disdain show - mostly because she's incapable of showing any emotion other than "nervous schoolgirl about to ask her crush to go see 'Minions: Rise of Gru' with her."
Dean begs Lucy to give him just five minutes of her time. Lucy agrees, and soon after allows Dean to interview her about the chocolate shop. It is revealed during the interview that Lucy has never sampled one of the Chocolate Cupids (disregarding the #1 rule of renowned chef Mung Daal, "To make good food, a good chef must always taste it"), because she lives in perpetual dread of its potent ability to make people fall in love. This in turn reveals Lucy's crippling commitment issues, which can be stimulated by the mere thought of eating a freaking bonbon, but Dean doesn't seem to catch onto this.
For reasons beyond the explanation of science or reason, the interview goes over very well, prompting Dean's boss to send him back to Lucy for more information about a single item in a family-owned chocolate shop. Lucy brings in various couples who've all tried the chocolate Cupids together; most of them, though, acknowledge that the supernatural chocolates didn't really corelate directly with them finding love, but rather that they did, at some point, eat the chocolates, and later, at some other point, they fell in love. This forms an interesting link between the chocolates and literally everything else that can happen in a person's life, insinuating that the candies holds sway not only over people's romantic lives, but over their opportunities to find new jobs, to try new foods, to stop watching "Friends" because it's trash, and even death itself. If you eat of the Cupids, you will surely die. None of the characters pick up on this little caveat, though; doubtless, they're too busy wondering how two people with as little chemistry as Lucy and Dean could possibly be considered love interests. It's like if plain white bread was matched with another piece of plain white bread; it's not outright disgusting, per say, but it's certainly no sandwich.
During the interviews, Lucy's irritating friend, Serena, learns that her boyfriend (whom she found, according to herself and perhaps even one of her many therapists, via the divine intervention of the sacred Cupids) is still in contact with a woman he went on a single date with a long time ago. This is, of course, crushing information for Serena, who firmly believes that a man in a committed relationship (specifically with her) shouldn't acknowledge the existence of other women in any way, shape, or form. She later has a heart-to-heart with Lucy about it, but it really doesn't affect the plot at all, so who cares?
At some point because reasons Lucy has to go with Dean to some sort of company Valentine's Day party. She dresses very fancy, and he does his best. They almost do a kiss. More stuff happens. Lucy doesn't want to eat a chocolate because an old boyfriend did something hurtful. To be honest, I dozed off at this point. I think Lucy showed Dean how to make the dang chocolates or something, but wouldn't tell him the secret ingredient. I could've easily just been thinking about the Secret Ingredient Soup from Dreamwork's Kung Fu Panda, though. I'm USUALLY thinking about Kung Fu Panda.
Later, after I was awoken by a dull pain in my spine that comes with being over the age of 30, I learned that Dean had gone to interview for an anchor position in New York. He turned back up just in time for the big interview (because the news station was STILL fascinated by the stupid bonbons for some reason) with Lucy. Live on the air, he and Lucy both ate the Cupids, and then made out on camera while a gleeful crowd of closeted perverts cheered them on. Lucy says that the secret ingredient is courage, because "love" would've been too easy.
Overall, "Sweeter than Chocolate" was about as memorable as a glass of water. Neither Lucy nor Dean were reprehensible (as is the case with the majority of Hallmark movies), but they also weren't in any way interesting, unless you're intrigued by things like dust motes or the color beige. This movie really could've benefitted from Jessica Lowndes pretending to be a singer, or Lacey Chabert trying to make us all forget that she once played Gretchen Wieners. I don't believe I've ever seen Eloise Mumford act in anything before; after watching "Sweeter than Chocolate," I'm still not sure I've seen her act in anything. The ending would've been better if Serena had choked on a Cupid, rendering her mute for the rest of her life. Why do I watch these things? I mean, I know why I watch the Jessica Lowndes ones, but why the rest? Is it my desire to have my own twisted version of MST3K or Rifftrax, or some Pharisaical effort to atone for my own inherent sinfulness? I know only one thing for sure: No one watches these because they're quality cinema.