Quite eatable
The idea to remake Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory had brewed in Hollywood for some time. A number of famous directors were even attached to the project before it finally came to rest in the possession of Tim Burton. And when the film was handed over, there were several doubts raises about this remake of the 1971 classic.
Such doubts were only amplified when a teaser trailer was finally released last winter. Instead of quelling fears, a whole new batch of concerns arose, such as the film's tone, the direction it was heading in and Depp's portrayal of the chocolate genius, Wonka. Some suggested that Burton's handling of the film was far too campy. Even more brutal were the connections made between Depp's Wonka and music personage Michael Jackson. And to be perfectly honest, the more commercials I saw, the less confident I became in the film as well.
It was just corny. The trailer was hard to watch, the commercials were very childish, and Depp's Wonka seemed to be far lighter then Gene Wilder's portrayal.
Imagine my surprise then when the film turned out to be not just good...but great.
And when I say great, I mean great.
If there is any justice, the promotional campaign behind this movie will go down as one of the most misleading in history. While commercials and trailers can give a fair glimpse into the nature of a film, they don't even begin to scratch the surface of what Tim Burton has accomplished with this piece. And that's not to say that this movie is a masterwork. Rather, it is to say that he has made a very satisfying and outright creepy film.
Yes, this movie is quite unsettling. Much of this is due to the writing of John August and the direction of Burton. With these two craftsmen at the helm, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is a grand film about imagination and invention...with a dark underbelly of wickedness. Never is this more apparent then when the film introduces us to its chief character, Willy Wonka.
The original Chocolate Factory had a fantastic introduction to Willy Wonka. Most of us could probably recount it: Wonka is first seen as a hunched over, crippled old man. Approaching the children with great pain and effort, we can't help but be taken aback when Wonka suddenly launches into a very articulate cartwheel. This introduction, both clever and highly descriptive of the nature of the character, would be impossible to live up to or even hint at in this film. So the filmmakers simply ognore it all together. And in doing so they are able to give us one of the finest character introductions over the last few years.
I won't spoil it for you, but let me just say that Depp's introduction as Wonka is easily the hook of the film. The first 20 minutes or so, designed exclusively for the purpose of charting Charlie's woe-stricken life, may catch you. But then again, it may not. Yet, this one moment of introduction is where the crux of the film rests. This is what the first 20 minutes build up to. Moreover, the rest of the film's tone is set by this moment alone.
Thankfully, Burton made what could have been potentially a rather childish and diabetic moment turn into a hellish revelation of the true underpinnings of Wonka's character.
Messed up he is indeed. After his tumultuous introduction, Wonka begins his tour of the chocolate factory. It is during this when an innocent comment sends the candy-maker into an awkward flashback. "Father....Papa?", he coos as his lower-lip quivers. Unlike Wilder's portrayal of Wonka, Depp's is riddled with guilt and angst. This angst causes Wonka to descend deeper into madness as the tour of the chocolate factory moves on. As the flashbacks become stronger, his thinly veiled contempt for the children is revealed. At one point, Wonka even manages to give the children a small discourse on the nature of cannibalism and why it isn't commonly accepted in society. This is dark stuff. Some of it may go unnoticed by younger viewers, but the edge won't be missed by older minds.
Yes, it is safe to say that Depp's Wonka is leagues away from Wilder's. While Wilder's version of the character was always sly and underhanded, Depp's Wonka is deeply disturbed, malicious and yet childlike by his very nature. It isn't that Depp's performance is better. It's just a different slant. Wilder remains in a lofty position through his interpretation of the character; he is in complete and utter control of his emotions and actions. However, Depp's Wonka is utterly and completely out of control. With a peppy voice, he comes across more like a PBS children's host then the owner of a chocolate factory. And that's what's truly frightening about his interpretation. There are other differences you will probably notice in comparison to the original film.
This time around, the movie takes the time to develop a stronger relationship between Charlie and Wonka. The two build up an extraordinary friendship as Wonka's view of the other children depreciates. The film also manages to give us a little Wonka backstory, which is greatly appreciated. After viewing Willy's past, it's easy to understand the "why" behind the creation of the chocolate factory. Dejected by his father, Willy engrossed himself in a world complete of his own devising. Everything is very beautiful, very delicious and yet at the same time, darkly bitter. Every candy-cane in the factory looks slightly mutated, slightly twisted. And everything in Burton's beautiful production design serves a purpose. The past lurks around every chocolate covered corner.
One of the things that greatly impressed me about the film, in addition to the production design, was the cinematography. Truly magnificent, it's clear that Burton had a specific vision for this film. Every location within the chocolate factory seems to have its own flavor. And even when the film moves outside the factory, there is plenty for the eyes to feast upon. The besotted town where Charlie resides practically screams "Burton". Yet, while the director has been known to be overtly meticulous in his visual style, it never feels out of place here. Every image, lovingly crafted, never overwhelms the senses. Instead, it simply goes well beyond expectation and creates a fantastic world of the imagination. And that's a wonderful thing indeed.
Burton hasn't been able to accomplish such a feat consistently for the last few years. He blundered with the ruinously horrid Planet of the Apes, and then bounced back with Big Fish. Yet even then, nothing ever compared to the mastery he wielded in films like Edward Scissorhands. Herin, he has finally regained his composure.
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory had the potential to be a tremendous disaster. It could have simply been tepid. Instead, Burton has accomplished one of the most enjoyable films of his entire career. It may not have the integrity or majesty of films like Edward Scissorhands, but it works. Every character is memorable in their own weird way and every visual stays with you long after you leave the theater. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory could have been a terrible film. But it isn't.
Burton accomplished the best thing he could have with this revision. He didn't create a stronger film. Instead, he created a film that speaks to an entirely different mentality. Both films can stand together as great accomplishments. And both films serve to indulge different moods.
Leonardo: Leonardo didn’t perform too well in Screen Wars, but that doesn’t mean that I love the film any less. It’s still one of my favorite Matter of Chance shorts. I hope it does well elsewhere. 
