Burton's Charlie a Delectable Delight

The title scene opens darkly, in the dim lighting of Willy Wonka’s factory. The camera follows the elegant, meticulous, and mechanical transformation of Wonka’s legendary chocolate from liquid ooze into wrapped, solid candy bars. It’s a behind-the-scenes view of what goes on before eager children tear apart the foil; likewise, Tim Burton’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory gives us a unique behind-the-scenes view of the life of Willy Wonka (Johnny Depp), renowned candymaker.

Charlie’s sets, scenery, and costumes, much like the immaculate rendering of candy-bar-making in the opening, do more than justice to the sense of the magical and wonderous that Roald Dahl created. As each golden ticket winner is introduced, their clothes and surroundings say as much about their character as what comes out of their mouths, and often humorously so.

Other delightful add-ons include the Oompah-Loompahs, all of whom are played by the same actor (Deep Roy), but are so seamlessly integrated into the environment that one hardly cares. The effect is authentic and humorous, rather than distracting, as rendering multiples of the same character can sometimes be. Their musical numbers (masterfully executed by Danny Elfman) are welcome escapades, and leave the visitors to Wonka’s factory bewildered.

And the man himself is just as mysterious and magical, although admirers of Gene Wilder’s performance as Willy Wonka in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory may balk at the murkier and darker flavor of both Burton’s film. Johnny Depp is what creates most of the contrast between the two films, and he yields a both impressive and disturbing performance. In Willy Wonka, Wilder seemed manic and affectionate, while Depp in Charlie engages in a convincing struggle to interact humanely towards children, the people who share his unfettered love and passion for all things sweet. When at a loss for words, he reads awkwardly off of cue cards.

At times, one wonders if Mr. Wonka even cares whether or not any of the children make it out of his factory in one piece, let alone have a good time. He never appears to learn any of their names; when one of the children falls into danger, he calls out, “Little girl…” or “Little boy…” weakly with an outstretched finger, as if he’s not sure how much he should care (perhaps he could really care less). Depp’s mesmerizing Wonka walks a flighty and bizarre line. But we find out why Wonka is the way he is, and that is what makes Charlie, and Depp’s Wonka, so magnificent.

That tantalizing why is answered through flashbacks during the winners’ visit to Wonka’s factory. As it turns out, Wonka was the son of a dentist (Christopher Lee) who detested candy and its cavity-inducing properties, forcing little Willy to wear headgear of a most amazingly grotesque nature. We see the roots of Wonka’s love of candy, and its entanglement in his desire for approval from his father. Thus, Charlie’s Wonka seems more human, rounded, grounded, and real than Willy’s Wonka.

In many ways, Dahl’s story seems geared towards parents rather than their children, for Charlie is very much a lesson in how children pay penalties for parental sins and indulgences. You may already know the drill… Veruca Salt becomes a “bad nut” from being spoiled by her passive father. Mike Teavee’s know-it-all mentality gets him on television, but not in the way anyone would hope to. Violet’s cultivated competitiveness prevents her from discerning when it is wise to listen to the command to stop. Augustus’ greediness blinds him to his gluttony and lack of self-control.

But Willy Wonka commits the ultimate rebellion against his dentist father by more than simply running away to become the world’s greatest candymaker. “All these years, and you haven’t flossed,” says Dr. Wonka. “Not once,” Willy replies. It is moments like that (not just the childlike awe and anticipation Burton creates through his sets and pacing) which make Charlie and the Chocolate Factory truly magical.