MOVIE
—Overview
—Photos
—About this Film
—Spiritual Connections

BOOK
—Review: WonkaMania


—Blog: Kevin Miller
—Blog: Tom Price
—Blog: Jacob Sahms
—Blog: Jacob Sahms
—Blog: Mark Stokes

Directed by Tim Burton
Book by Roald Dahl
Screenplay by John August

Cast (in credits order)
Freddie Highmore .... Charlie Bucket
Johnny Depp .... Willy Wonka
rest of cast listed alphabetically
Helena Bonham Carter .... Mrs. Bucket
James Fox .... Mr. Salt
Jordan Fry .... Mike Teavee
Dominique Gerrard .... Salts Nuts Girl
Adam Godley .... Mr. Teavee
Garrick Hagon .... Denver Reporter
David Kelly .... Grandpa Joe
Christopher Lee .... Dr. Wilbur Wonka
Missi Pyle .... Mrs. Beauregarde
Annasophia Robb .... Violet Beauregarde
Deep Roy .... Oompa-Loompa
Harry Taylor .... Mr. Gloop
Noah Taylor .... Father Bucket
Franziska Troegner .... Mrs. Galoop
Philip Wiegratz .... Augustus Gloop
Julia Winter .... Veruca Salt
Stephen Humby .... Crowd (uncredited)
Jynine James .... Salts Nuts girl (uncredited)
Ray Verma .... Photographer (uncredited)

Produced by
Bruce Berman .... executive producer
Brenda Berrisford .... associate producer
Graham Burke .... executive producer
Liccy Dahl .... executive producer (as Felicity Dahl)
Katterli Frauenfelder .... co-producer
Derek Frey .... associate producer
Brad Grey .... producer
Patrick McCormick .... executive producer
Michael Siegel .... executive producer
Richard D. Zanuck .... producer

Original Music by Danny Elfman
Cinematography by Philippe Rousselot
Film Editing by Chris Lebenzon

Rated
For rating reasons, go to FILMRATINGS.COM, and MPAA.ORG.
Parents, please refer to PARENTALGUIDE.ORG

In terms of my childhood influences, Roald Dahl occupied the same rare air as J. R. R. Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, and Dr. Seuss. He was a master storyteller; one whose work I savored much like Charlie Bucket savored his Whipple Scrumptious Fudgemallow Delight chocolate bar on his birthday each year—bit by precious bit. Needless to say, then, when someone like Tim Burton ventures to bring a book like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory to the big screen, for me and countless other former children, he is treading on holy ground. Thankfully, even though Burton’s account of the gospel of Wonka is eerily unorthodox, he avoids falling into full-blown heresy. I wouldn’t necessarily call the changes he has made to the story improvements, but Burton’s film is definitely an intriguing adaptation of Dahl’s beloved children’s tale.

One of the most significant and fascinating deviations from the book is Burton’s characterization of Willy Wonka. As written by Dahl, Wonka was a mysterious, delightfully childlike man with a heart like Santa Claus and a face like Uncle Sam. He was also a genius, a “magician with chocolate,” according to Charlie’s Grandpa Joe. In Burton’s film, Wonka is still a genius, but he has more in common with Howard Hughes or Michael Jackson than Santa Claus. And his face, well… Let’s just say it’s more disturbing than comforting. Burton’s Wonka is also childlike in his own way. But rather than portray him as an old man who has managed to retain his sense of childlike wonder, Burton depicts him as more of a man-child who hasn’t really gotten over the trauma of his early years but who doesn’t know how to grow up either. He is clumsy, gawky, unsure how to relate to others, and uncertain if he even wants to. He doesn’t seem to like children, so it’s a wonder he ever issues the invitation for the children to tour his chocolate factory at all. But perhaps it’s his way of reaching out, a desperate cry for help from a troubled man who realizes he is losing his grip on reality and that somehow only the wisdom of a child can bring him back.

In these and other ways, Burton’s take on Wonka couldn’t be more different from Dahl’s original vision. However, even though I regard myself as somewhat of a Dahl purist, I don’t see these changes as intrinsically negative. Not only have Burton and actor Johnny Depp managed to create an entirely original character who is captivating in his own right, the choices they made also enabled them to showcase Dahl’s delightfully wicked sense of humor, which is one of the most attractive features of his work. In fact, my only real complaint about the film is the superfluous backstory that explains how Willy Wonka became the troubled genius we see on screen. Mystery, says screenwriter William Goldman, is one of the key ingredients of an effective character. While Burton’s Wonka definitely starts out as an enjoyable enigma, eventually it is revealed that he is nothing more than the product of a (yawn) troubled childhood. As I’ve stated elsewhere in regard to George Lucas’s laborious exposé of Darth Vader’s origins in Star Wars Episodes I–III, sometimes you just need to leave well enough alone.

That said; Burton’s ambiguous depiction of Willy Wonka does lead to some interesting spiritual reflections. But before I get to those, a bit of set-up: In terms of structure, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory bears a strong resemblance to C. S. Lewis’s The Great Divorce. In Lewis’s tale, a group of people gets the chance to take a bus from hell to heaven. If they like it there, they will be allowed to stay. If not, they are free to get return to the dreary, rainy place from whence they came. Strangely enough, after a short stint in Paradise, one-by-one, each passenger decides they were much happier down below where they were free to pursue their vices, so back on the bus they go. Only one character decides to stay, and he is gloriously transformed as a result.

Similarly, in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, five children and their guardians are invited to leave the dreary, hopelessness of their lives (hell) and visit Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory (heaven). At the end of the tour, Wonka (an admittedly bizarre stand-in for God) promises that one of the children will receive a prize far greater than they can imagine. However, as in The Great Divorce, one-by-one, the children fall victim to their vices—whether gluttony, greed, pride or anger—turn their back on Wonka and the factory and return to the world from whence they came. In the end, only Charlie remains. By virtue of his stalwart character, he has proven himself worthy to receive the prize, which is nothing less than Wonka’s glorious chocolate factory itself!

However, in a surprising departure from the original story, rather than give the factory to Charlie outright, Wonka reveals one final stipulation: To inherit the factory, Charlie must say goodbye to his family forever. Suddenly, what appeared to be a gift from God looks more like a deal with the devil. Charlie refuses, and Wonka goes away angry. But he is also troubled. How could Charlie turn down such an offer? Never having experienced familial love himself, he simply cannot understand Charlie’s motivation. Only when Charlie helps Wonka reunite with his own father does he finally see what Charlie was on to.

To my mind, Wonka’s surprising about-face is an accurate reflection of our current feelings of uncertainty toward God. In Dahl’s book, Wonka is similar to the version of God I heard about in Sunday school—all knowing, all loving, and so forth. In Burton’s film, however, Wonka is nasty, confused, and socially awkward—hardly what you would call divine attributes. At times, you can’t help but wonder, is Wonka God or is he the devil? Are his Oompa Loompas angels or demons? Is the chocolate factory heaven or hell? Should the children love Wonka or fear him?

These questions aren’t much different from the ones many of us ask about God. Does God, like Wonka, take delight in seeing us fall victim to our vices? Is he some sort of eccentric misfit who needs us as much or more, as we need him? Could it be that, like Wonka, God has a thing or two to learn from us as well? Can he be trusted? At times, we may see him as unable or unwilling to relate to common people like ourselves. We may also suspect that, like Wonka at the opening of the factory tour, God is just putting on a show for his own amusement—and not a very good show at that.

Competing depictions to the contrary, I prefer to think of God in terms of Dahl’s original description of Wonka, as a kindly, self-assured being with an eye to celebrating my redemption rather than glorying in my defeat. That has certainly been my experience of him, anyway. I also realize that just because God has offered me an invitation to Paradise does not guarantee I will be there to enjoy it with him after I die. Like Charlie, if I hope to inherit the prize, I must turn away from my vices rather than allow them to consume me. I must devote myself to virtue today. Otherwise, like the characters in The Great Divorce, I am certain I will have no interest in doing so after I die either, and not even God will be able to convince me otherwise.

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First, I have to admit that I only vaguely remember being shown the 1971 version of the movie then titled, Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory. Second, I went to see Charlie & The Chocolate Factory to escape the heat and figured that a Johnny Depp movie seemed like a good cure. My initial reactions to the movie were on its color, tone and how Tim Burton-ish it was. Hours later, looking back over my scrawled notes, I have begun to appreciate it, as one might savor a rich chocolate—and that seems to be the point!

Willy Wonka reopens his factory and sends out five gold tickets, as anyone who has seen the trailer will recognize, but the tickets follow a midlife crisis by the big-hearted recluse, played to the hilt by Johnny Depp. His first four recipients are the glamorous antitheses of our hero Charlie Bucket ( Freddie Highmore), whose only selfish act is to buy his last candy bar out of hunger. [Even Grandpa Joe has more of an agenda than adorable Charlie, who would opt to sell the ticket to buy his parents and four grandparents food.]

The drive behind the Wonka fortune appears through a series of flashbacks with the formidable Christopher Lee as dentist Wilbur Wonka. The excesses of Halloween candy are forbidden to his overly protected son, and the darkness of Wilbur’s home is only matched by the puritanical joy he seems to take in depriving his son. When Willy runs away, Wilbur promises to not be around if he should come back, moving the whole house to prove a point. If Roald Dahl’s signature character is an orphaned boy, then Willy is that boy: Charlie, our hero, is loved completely and absolutely, in the midst of the Bucket family poverty.

The Oompa-Loompas (one and all played by Deep Lot) appear prepared for the four ‘naughty’ children and their sugar-coated demises. While each child appears to use their free will to succumb to their temptations, the reclusive Willy Wonka and his henchmen seem prepared for what happens next. One by one, the characteristics of the first four cause them to fall. Charlie appears simply happy to be there, with no temptation to fall into, just soaking up the radiance that the factory’s internal activity provides. Here is a picture of heaven and hell: the location is the same but the results are drastically different. One set of people (the greedy children) get exactly what they desire but fall dangerously when allowed to get what they want. The other set (Charlie) live through the same experience, but ‘stay on the path’ that leads to an offer by Willy.

Faced with his greatest temptation, Charlie chooses family over control of the factory, much to the dismay of Willy. Family is important to Charlie but Willy can’t understand that—if all fathers are like Wilbur, then why would Charlie want to stay? I found myself asking the same questions about faith and church. If I had an abusive relative, would I look differently at God the Father? If I had been beaten down by a legalistic representation of faith in church, would I eagerly run to the next meeting of faith?

The beauty of the Chocolate Factory is that it brings Charlie and Willie together. Drawn back to Charlie, Willie finds encouragement to reunite with his father and make peace. Still further, the two lovers of chocolate share in the love that the Buckets have, transplanted within the factory. Apparently, you can have both chocolate and family, just like I was treated to entertainment and values. Once again, there are side notes on does and don’ts within the movie, but the overriding theme is that of community, and that of love.


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There are some times when it makes sense to remake a picture for more than simply financial gain. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, a remake of the 1971 classic Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, was not one of those times.

This film, directed by Tim Burton, sought to be a darker Chocolate Factory than the 1971 flavor, which some critics have recalled as too saccharine. Think of the song “The Candy Man” as an example. And the casting of Johnny Depp in the role of Willy Wonka held promise of a different take on the beloved novel by Roald Dahl. Dark chocolate rather than milk chocolate, they said.

At its heart, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is a morality play in which five children win golden tickets that gain them admittance into Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, a magical place where everything is edible. While Burton ’s imagery is stunning, the result is less stunning than one would expect given a generation of technological innovations in filmmaking. Vices for each of the children, except Charlie, take them out of the running for the coveted prize, yet the lesson isn’t as clear as a generation ago. It may have to do with the mostly unintelligible song lyrics sung by the Oompah-Loompahs – less memorable, but musically more in tune with the current day.

Most of the children -- with the exception of Charlie and Violet Beauregarde (who matches her mother) – seem to be cast to match as close as possible their 1971 counterparts. Unlike the 1971 version, however, at least we see the characters get their comeuppance and walk away.

There are some funny moments in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. One involves a squadron of nut de-shelling squirrels. Another satirizes Disney-like Small World display. The latter is one of multiple pop-culture references – touching everything from films like 2001: A Space Odyssey or Psycho to popular songs. In this writer’s opinion, the insipidity of a screenplay increases with the number of such references, and this movie gives weight to that theory.

Yet Charlie and the Chocolate Factory ultimately suffers because Depp’s Wonka comes off as a cross between Michael Jackson, Mr. Rogers and Dana Carvey’s “church lady.” While there’s a satisfying addition of a back story, which has Wonka being raised by an obsessive dentist father (Christopher Lee), the painfully dysfunctional characterization of Wonka advances neither the story nor Charlie (Freddie Highmore), who was to have been a greater focus of this version. There were, in truth, dark elements to the ’71 Wonka (magnificently played by Gene Wilder). And Charlie’s screenplay does not compare to the witty dialogue of the 1971 version. When Depp’s Wonka invites Charlie to come live with him, there’s a hint of invitation to Jackson ’s Neverland ranch, particularly when Charlie’s family isn’t allowed. This isn’t dark, just creepy.

By contrast, Charlie Bucket is just too good. There’s no desire here for Charlie to go beyond Wonka’s boundaries as in the original with the Fizzy Lifting Drinks. There’s no temptation to use his Chocolate Factory access to sell out Wonka for revenge. But there still are moments of inspiration. In one scene, Charlie offers to sell his prized Golden Ticket to feed his starving family. One of his relatives urges him not to give away something priceless for “only money.”

The film’s thematic strength is its emphasis on the importance of family, which Wonka learns from Charlie’s example. But this focus is not enough to salvage a film that, in retrospect, seems like it was made for “only money.”

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Chocolate Factory produces modern fairy tale

“It’s not as good as the original.”

How many times have we heard this overused phrase in the past year alone? Not only is this a testament to Hollywood’s over-reliance on remakes, but in the case of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, it’s a reminder that we just don’t read as much as we used to.

Despite all appearances, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is not a remake of the 1971 cult classic Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. At the time of writing the new script, screenwriter John August (who also penned Big Fish) hadn’t even seen the original film. Instead, he sought to recreate the world he first encountered in the children’s novel by Roald Dahl. And who better to translate such a twisted mind than equally demented director Tim Burton?

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory follows Charlie Bucket (Freddie Highmore of Finding Neverland), a destitute though obedient kid mesmerized by reclusive chocolatier Willy Wonka (played by a wonderfully awkward Michael Jackson-esque Johnny Depp). After winning one of five golden tickets to Wonka’s chocolate factory, Charlie and his grandpa enter the candy man’s mysterious world of wondrous inventions and tasty treats.

Visually, the film is a masterpiece. Burton’s artistic flair is quite obvious in this film as he contrasts the drab, grimy brown-and-gray landscape of Charlie’s slightly askew ordinary world with Wonka’s colorful though sterile factory environment. The casting is amazing, as each actor looks like a caricature of his or her role in life (without the use of any prosthetics). When these blue-eyed children and gangly grandpas prance around in such an imaginative expressionistic world, a modern-day fairy tale is born.

Fans of the much-loved-though-much-darker 1970s version will notice several things missing: Charlie’s temptation by Slugworth, Charlie and Grandpa Joe’s encounter with the Fizzy Lifting Drinks, golden-egg-laying geese and orange-faced Oompa Loompas with an annoyingly repetitious though catchy song. All of the major differences, however, are attempts to stay true to the book.

The geese have been replaced with nut-cracking squirrels that identify “bad nuts” rather than “bad eggs.” This element from the original novel seems to bring the story full-circle for Veruca Salt, who gains both fortune and misfortune through industrial nut-shucking (her father is a wealthy nut-factory mogul).

Though the new Oompa Loompas (all played by a shrunken-to-knee-level Deep Roy) still sing whenever another child reaches his or her demise, each song style is unique. Because Wonka has been isolated from the outside world for 20 years, these songs have a distinct ’70s feel (as do Wonka’s numerous attempts at slang). All of the other memorable songs have been omitted, creating a better contrast between the harsh real world and the sing-songy wonderland of the factory.

The other obvious changes in the original film seem to deal with a particular theme: Grace. In both incarnations, Willy Wonka is painted as a mysterious, powerful figure whom everyone wants to know, but whom few have seen. Though he’s pretty twisted in the ’70s film, he's not so flawed—just strange and mysterious. He can be seen as a God-like figure who opposes (and punishes) the proud, but gives grace to the humble (James 4:6).

Though the original film shows Charlie giving into Grandpa Joe’s temptation to try out the Fizzy Lifting Drink, his confession that he was going to give the Everlasting Gobstopper to Mr. Slugworth allows him to accept Wonka’s free gift: the keys to his Kingdom (his chocolate factory). In this version, Charlie can be seen as the run-of-the-mill Christian: someone who receives an incredible gift of grace from a powerful being through surrendering something valuable (a gobstopper for Charlie; a life for the rest of us).

Though this subplot is not present in the original book or the recent film, that doesn’t mean there isn’t religious subtext. Dahl spent much of his childhood in Catholic boys’ schools, most extensively in Repton Public School (where he received inspiration for the novel through tasting new chocolates for Cadbury). Though Dahl later doubted the existence of God (attributing his doubt to the evils done by Repton’s abusive clergy), his Catholic upbringing seems to have made an impression on him. The four other children are obviously naughty, but they can also be seen as representative of four of the seven deadly sins (Augustus Gloop is gluttony, Violet Beauregarde is pride, Veruca Salt is avarice and Mike Teavee is sloth).

Conversely, this version of Charlie is a perfect child. Having humble beginnings, he enters Willy Wonka’s world, acts as a mediator between Wonka and Wonka’s father (a new character in the film played by Christopher Lee), ascends into the heavens and eventually dwells in paradise. There is even a touching scene at the beginning in which Charlie breaks his only birthday present—a chocolate bar—and shares it with his parents and four bed-bound grandparents. The chocolate takes on a sacramental role for the child, who obviously deserves the chocolate but who gives it freely to those around him.

In addition to its subtle religious themes, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, rated PG, is just a fun film. Though not as psychedelically twisted as the original film, it still has its dark moments. Those with weak stomachs might not want to see the bug guts in the Oompa Loompa homeland.

Though this boat ride didn’t give me nightmares like the other one, it could be a little intense for younger children. The film has a slightly twisted thread that runs throughout, but it never goes over the line in my estimation. By all means, take the family and enjoy. But remember to give credit where credit is due: Remember to read the book!

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