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Marching forward with a madcap frenzy of make-up and special effects, director Tim Burton’s imagination gets more and more far-reaching and out there. His take on Roald’s Dahl’s famous Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was certainly divisive at the time; for those who later turned their backs on Burton’s Alice in Wonderland (a film I still celebrate and defend all the time in casual conversation with my friends) all signs point to here. It was here that the love affair with Johnny Depp went too far they claim. How could Depp’s whacked out Wonka possibly live up to Gene Wilder’s? Why would Burton even choose this material? There’s no way he could match the original film. They are right. He doesn’t match it; he surpasses it in every way.
Opening with a bit of wonderfully wicked camera shot that tracks then rides a snowstorm straight into the factory chimney from one of Wonka’s many factory smokestacks, we settle into a rich swirl of characters that are all competing to get hold of one of Wonka’s prized golden ticket; it’s reward is a chance to see inside the mysterious factory and, ultimately, own it. Thing is, there are only five tickets. Anyone can win and somehow, Wonka (Depp) knows exactly where his tickets are heading and who will win. He’s a bit of an eccentric, after all.
Charlie Bucket (Freddie Highmore in a stunning performance) lives in a crooked house. His family is hardworking and consistently poor. They eat cabbage soup most nights as nothing “goes better with cabbage then cabbage” as we all know. They also all – including the grandparents – share the same living space. These close quarters allows for a strong sense of family and right and wrong to grow deep inside of Charlie; unmatched only by his interest in the imaginative recluse who is Wonka. He eats his candy and tries to get one of those golden tickets, but to no avail. Little does he know that he is, indeed, the luckiest boy in the whole wide chocolate-loving world.
One of those tickets will find him and he and Grandpa Joe (David Kelly) will get to tour the factory alongside a cast of spoiled kids - Augustus Gloop (Philip Wiegratz), Veruca Salt (Julia Winter), Violet Beauregarde (AnnaSophia Robb), and television junkie Mike Teavee (Jordan Fry) – and their insufferable parents. Through a remarkable series of mazes and puzzles designed specifically for each child, Wonka eliminates his contest winners one after one…until there is only child left standing.
Yet, Burton and screenwriter John August manage to pull a heavy one-two punch and tell us Wonka’s own personal story with his disapproving dentist father, Wilbur Wonka (Christopher Lee), his childhood, and the reason why he has remained an outsider even in his manufactured world that is surrounded by the sing-songy little Oompa-Loompas (Deep Roy) scurrying about.
It is reported that Dahl absolutely hated the 1971 film version of his novel. I don’t blame him. It’s uneven in tone and mood and has none of the heart that snapped, crackled, and popped in his book. Burton, August, and Warner Bros went through the trenches to promise the Dahl Estate in order to secure the rights again. What Burton promised, he delivered tenfold. This would not be held captive by the musical formula; this would be a madhouse.
Odd is King throughout the narrative. Depp can’t stop the narrative flashbacks whenever he stumbles over the word “parent” and is consistent in the pervasive weirdness his opening song, featuring melting dolls and puppets, so proudly suggests. Elfman’s eerie use of strings suggests the history of parental abuse and disapproval Wonka is hiding from the world and yet we know it must be faced; there’s more to the surface gloss of this wondrous lake of chocolate and other delectable sweets. He’s never age appropriate – talking to the kids about cannibalism in one scene – and always engagingly funny even as the story exposes the history of scars he hides.
Burton, playing the king of eloquent exaggerations, places the pasty white faces of the adults against the glossy shine of their kid’s faces and the greenish glow illuminating off Wonka’s skin with bizarre strength. Every moment becomes a bout with managing the exaggeration; the set designs are one part Metropolis, one-part 2001: A Space Odyssey, and another part Burton’s genius and everything is filtered through the lens of his long-time cinematographer Philippe Rousselot (A River Runs Through It). It’s a passionate play of visuals that turns the brain on and, with the strength of the songs from Elfman, the auditory senses are engaged, too.
Here’s my confession: I am a Generation Xer and Tim Burton’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is my Willy Wonka wet dream. There is no other. There is none other than this one. It is, from head to toe, a perfect film in tone and pacing. Stylized and plotted with some great edits that perculate the dialogue and comedic beats, Burton delivers a wonderfully bizarre film that seems more perfect with each and every viewing.
MPAA Rating: 
