I’ll admit it: I had never seen Chocolate before this year’s Fantastic Fest. Now that I have, I’m kicking myself for missing out on one of the most exhilarating and emotionally satisfying action films of the 2000s. Presented in a stunning 35mm remaster for the festival’s 20th anniversary celebration, Chocolate is more than deserving of its cult status — it’s a wildly entertaining, deeply heartfelt film that truly earns a spot in the martial arts canon. While it’s not perfect, it is entertaining.
The story follows Zen (remarkably played by JeeJa Yanin), an autistic teenage girl whose life is thrown into chaos when two rival crime bosses compete for her mother’s attention, forcing her into hiding at a Muay Thai kickboxing school. It isn’t Zen who first recognizes her talent— that realization comes from those closest to her. Her mother and her loyal friend Mangmoom (Taphon Phopwandee) notice how quickly she picks up techniques just by watching others and studying classic Bruce Lee and Tony Jaa movies. Mangmoom becomes her strongest supporter and trainer, helping Zen turn her natural ability into formidable fighting skills.
When one of her mother’s dangerous former lovers tracks them down, Zen finds herself in a violent and chaotic confrontation. What follows are some of the most exciting fight sequences I’ve seen on a big screen in years — raw, balletic, and endlessly creative. The choreography is pure kinetic poetry, filled with daring stunts and bone-crunching precision, yet always motivated by character rather than spectacle for its own sake.
What struck me even more than the action, though, is how the film handles Zen’s neurodivergence. It’s never shown as a limitation — instead, it forms the basis of her strength, focus, and resilience. This outlook gives the story unexpected emotional depth, turning it from a typical revenge story into something much more empowering.
As a first-time viewer, I left Chocolate with a genuine appreciation for its accomplishments. The remastered version demonstrates how well the film still holds up — a sharp, skillfully crafted piece of action cinema that combines heart and brutality without losing its edge. And as the credits roll, a reel of outtakes highlights how physically demanding these sequences were to perform, showing the risks both cast and crew took to make the action feel as authentic — and dangerous — as it appears on screen. Again, it is far from perfect, but I enjoyed the ride.