Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Rated: PG My feelings about Charlie and the Chocolate Factory could best be summed up by how one feels about Frosted Mini-Wheats. The kid in me loved the film. I thought it was fun from beginning to end, hilarious, colorful, joyous, and the best movie I’d seen all year. And then the adult in me came along and told him that Frosted Mini-Wheats cause congenital heart failure, that Santa Claus was just arrested for B&E, and that this film is what’s wrong with America. But we’ll put the liberal prick on hold and hear why the film is one of Burton’s best to date. 
As opposed to the disasterous Planet of the Apes “re-imagining”, Burton was well-suited to Roald Dahl’s twisted tale of parenting, punishment, and candy. Not only was it an adaptation as opposed to a remake of the iconic 1971 Gene Wilder film (there’s a reason the film is called Charlie and the Chocolate Factory beyond just frustrating me and making me correct myself everytime I refer to it as Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory). And casting Depp was certainly no strike against the film because Depp is brilliant in just about everything he does and he’s certainly no stranger to playing weird. However, part of me wishes that Michael Keaton had gotten the role, just because the man has been almost non-existant in major motion pictures and I would have really liked to see how he would have portrayed the character. As for Christopher Walken, the other name mentioned for the role during pre-production…eh. It’s a kitschy idea that would have lost appeal after about ten minutes. Burton restructures the story to give us more insight into the character of Willy Wonka and the current situation of Charlie Bucket (Freddie Highmore, hand-picked by Depp for the role of Charlie after their previous work together on Finding Neverland). And as usual, I always enjoy seeing the establishment of a solid first act as opposed to just rushing into the “fun” stuff, which would here be the factory. On a filmic level, this is one of Burton’s best films as he shows that while many of his contemporaries have lost their touch over the decades, he’s only getting better with age. If your brain works like a regular person and doesn’t overthink stuff to the point of spoiling it (like mine!), you’ll be hard-pressed to find a more fun time at the movies this year. Depp’s performance as Wonka is a bit hard to digest at first. With his high-pitched voice, awkward social manner, odd-dress and child-like behavior, it seems like he’s channeling Michael Jackson which wouldn’t be funny as much as it would be creepy and tired. But if you’re familiar with Depp’s previous work, it quickly becomes clear that he’s reprising his role as Ed Wood… by way of Jackson. Still, if you convince yourself that this is more Ed Wood than Michael Jackson, the character will work for you (unless you’re more comfortable with child-molestors than transvestites, in which case I’m gonna ask you on behalf of humanity to just not see the film). 
There are also two brilliant performances in this film by actors you probably don’t know by name. First is Missi Pyle as Mrs. Beuregarde. She’s a great comic actress who’s probably made you laugh before in Dodgeball as Fran of the Purple Cobras or as Laliari/Jane Doe in Galaxy Quest. Her first scene in this film had me laughing my ass off through nothing other than her facial expressions. She’s a great comic actress and here’s hoping that someone in Hollywood has the sense to make her more than just a background character. The other great performance belongs to the brilliantly-named Deep Roy as the Oompa Loompas. That’s right, Oompa Loompas plural as he’s had his face digitally plastered on to every Oompa Loompa. And despite the orange faces and green hair of the 1971 Oompa Loompas, they don’t stand a chance against Roy as he has such a great deadpan face which becomes even funnier when he decides to use exaggerated expressions, like in the Mike TeaVee song. That’s right: there are songs and they’re the best part of the film. Despite his inability to write a score that doesn’t sound exactly like his work on previous Burton films (seriously, there are more instruments out there than strings, xylophones, and choral scales) the man writes lyrical songs that will have you heading straight to iTunes after you get home from the theatre. While the original Oompa Loompa songs had their charm they were all pretty much the same. Here, Elfman obviously has a lot of fun using different kinds of music styles in the child-name songs. For instance, Veruca Salt gets a hippie 70s style tune while Violet gets more of a techno beat. Not only are the songs hilarious, it’s a joy to watch all these digital Deep Roys dance around (with some excellent choreography, if I might add). While the digital effects in this film are fantastic (although some of the time the digital pasting of Roy’s face on to other little people looks unnatural), I believe that the film’s strongest technical achievement is in make-up. It’s just the little things that add so much to the film, like making it look like Augustus had no facial blemishes, as if his fat had basically pushed his face into a smooth form. It’s eerie and really helps add to the film’s dark humor. 
So now that I’ve gushed over the artistic and technical achievements of this film, what left is there to complain about? What tiny aspects could I pick at to try and make myself look smarter by needlessly rambling on about the ethical messages presented in the film? Well…there are actually quite a few. You might want to stop reading now. I know I’d want to. If we examine Charlie and the Chocolate Factory on a socio-economic level, we find that it is an extremely problematic film. The film is obviously trying to impart a moral message, which, on the surface, appears to be positive. To kids, the film says “Don’t be brats.”To parents, the film says, “Don’t let your kids be brats.” Nothing wrong with such a message. The film goes on to specifically define certain shortcomings of the children such as obesity, being overly-competitive, materially spoiled, and a know-it-all. You know which kid represents what. But beyond the simple morals, there lies a somewhat darker quality that my stupid brain has to point out. First, the film is all white kids. Now, I understand that Charlie probably has to be British and Augustus has to be German. But was it impossible to change the ethnicity or nationality of the other children? Was there a fear that if we made Mike Teavee hispanic or Veruca Salt asian, that the entire film would crumble? Would people think that the film was being racist and that apparently hispanics are unimaginative and asians are spoiled? I doubt it, and since the film shows that the Wonka bars go out all over the world, it’s a little baffling that the five winners would be two Britians, two Americans, and one German. But isn’t that any movie? Does every movie have to engage in affirmative action? Of course not, but the film makes a second statement on ethnicity with the Oompa-Loompas. This time, we get a much more elaborate back story, showing Willy Wonka traveling into the jungle and stumbling upon these miniscule people who worship the cocoa bean. Physically, the Oompa-Loompas are tiny (much smaller than the ones in the original film), they all look the same (through the magic of CG), they’re entertaining, and they work for cocoa beans. Now, if we replace the word “Oompa-Loompa” with “foreigner” and remove my irritating quotation marks, we get this sentence: Foreigners are tiny, they all look the same, they’re entertaining, and they work for cocoa beans. Seems slightly racist to me. 
And much like the 1971 film, screenwriter John August misses the boat on making Charlie’s character interesting. Charlie is the perfect child. More perfect than Haley Joel Osment in A.I. could ever be. He has his imagination and dreams of the Wonka factory to keep him warm at night, which is good because the house only has about three-fifths of a roof. And how does Charlie get to be the last kid standing? He keeps his mouth shut and tries to show no personality whatsoever. Granted, the other kids are rotten but that doesn’t mean that the best kid is one who’s barely there. Charlie’s a good kid and cares about his family, but there’s no way anyone could ever connect to him or even aspire to be him. His demeanor and home life are just too kind. Speaking of characters, I want to take this opportunity to talk about Mike Teavee. In the original film, he’s just a TV-freak who simply emulates the violence and heartlessness he sees on television. Here, Mike Teavee is that, but he’s also smart. He gets his Golden Ticket by cracking the system of where the Wonka bar would be and only has to buy one. He doesn’t even like chocolate, but it’s about winning showing off his intellect. Now the film is by no means anti-intelligence. It’s anti-know-it-all and it’s creating a comparison that a child who is obsessed with science and rationality will lack imagination. This rings a bit false when you consider the amount of technology and science put into making this beautiful film, which brings me to my next Mike Teavee point. 
In both films, the Oompa-Loompas sing about how TV rots one’s brain and ruins a child’s sense of imagination. Such a concept works beautifully when reading a book. It never translates on to a screen. You can’t insult a visual medium and then make a film like this which just oozes creativity. It’s basically an opportunity to rework the character and have the moral of his story make sense. But there are plenty of opportunities for that in this film and only time will tell if August and Burton made the right decision in sticking close to Dahl’s original work. Sure, kids today have problems with being overly-competitive, greedy, and so forth, but the biggest problem facing today’s youth is over-protection by parents. For a story that puts the relationship between parents and their child as one of its main themes, its certainly a missed opportunity to comment on constant interference by parents so that no child ever feel bad. And sure, we see shades of that here, but never do we see underserved merit given to the children nor do we see the parents flat-out lying just so their children won’t be “wrong”. And perhaps these are all extraneous claims. Perhaps I shouldn’t worry my silly liberal head about such matters and just go to the local coffee shop and talk about communism. But before I do, I have one more matter to discuss and that’s the man himself, Willy Wonka. 
What makes such a great meeting of this material to a director with Burton’s sensabilities is that Burton is able to apply his oft-repeated theme of imaginations double-edged sword to the character of Willy Wonka. Wonka has foregone all parental supervision and has created for himself a world that is his own imagination come to life. To visit the Chocolate Factory is to step inside the mind of Willy Wonka. The problem with Wonka is that he lacks restraint. He has a vague comprehension of civility, but this is obviously just a quest for understanding that also becomes a tool for punishment. But he’s not punishing the chldren as much as he’s punishing the parents. He’s imparting the punishment on them that he never could impart on his own father for his overly strict nature. However, Wonka is still a child himself. And while his lessons of morality are fair, its clear that this is how a child would fete out punishment: both joyful and wicked. But the film makes clear that every child needs discipline (except for Charlie.; he’s actually Jesus) because that’s what creates balance. On first glance, it seems like Burton is being a major hypocrite by criticizng Wonka for an over-indulgence in imagination when its clear that Burton is enjoying that same over-indulgence. But thinking about it, I realize that Burton has lost none of the restraint he showed with Big Fish. Look at this film and tell me it’s not supposed to be a bit “off”. I’m not talking colorful or fanciful. I’m saying its too much and at first I thought Burton had become too Tim Burton for his own good. But that’s not the case. What we have is the wonderful uniqueness of imagination and Burton showing us yet again that only through maturity can we embrace imagination on a pure level. I’d like to think of it as Edward Scissorhands for a whole new generation. And not only does a new generation need such a message, but perhaps my generation and the one before me could use it as well, because we do have to ask ourselves if we’re enjoying the beauty of imagination or simply indulging in the illusion created by nostalgia. Charlie and he Chocolate Factory is a wonderfully fun yet ethically murky film that tore me in two but I do think most people will enjoy it and I have no problem with it success. And if there’s one thing that my overly-analytical side and my fun-loving moviegoing side can agree on, it’s this: Charlie and he Chocolate Factory is a wonderfully fun yet ethically murky film that tore me in two but I do think most people will enjoy it and I have no problem with it success. My largest regret is that I'll probably have to do this all over again when Tim Burton's Corpse Bride comes out in September and I'm torn between loving it and condemning necrophilia. Words by
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