'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory': A remake worth its... sugar
By HAP ERSTEIN
Palm Beach Post
Although the critics' code specifically decrees impartiality and forbids ax-grinding, the very idea of a remake of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory conjured up thoughts of "How dare they" in me.
After all, in 1971, journeyman director Mel Stuart fashioned one of the few truly satisfying children's movies, albeit one brimming with chocolate-coated sadism that never pretended it really liked children much. Surely a new version would knuckle under to Hollywood's pathological need to be liked, right?
Warner Brothers Pictures
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Hardly.
The new Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is a prime example of when a remake is justified, when a filmmaker with a distinctive style — like the truly original Tim Burton — has a fresh take on the material and can put his visual and thematic stamp on familiar territory. That Burton brings to the project his longtime collaborator, actor Johnny Depp, who ranges far from Gene Wilder's Wonka with a complex, comically layered and slightly dangerous characterization, is a bonus to be savored.
While Burton and screenwriter John August (Big Fish) give the story a new spin with a back story of chocolatier Wonka's unhappy childhood and adult aversion to family, they also pull the film closer to the late Roald Dahl's treasured novella.
It centers on poor, but content Charlie Bucket (big-eared Freddie Highmore, Depp's costar in Finding Neverland), who lives in a ramshackle urban hovel with his parents and four happily bedridden grandparents.
His interest is piqued when a worldwide search is announced for five golden tickets, each for unprecedented admission to Wonka's innovative, pixilated factory. The first four are uncovered by singularly obnoxious, spoiled youngsters from Dusseldorf to Atlanta. Against all odds, the fifth is found by Charlie, who asks his kindly, wrinkled Grandpa Joe (David Kelly of Waking Ned Devine) to accompany him on this wonderland tour.
Once inside, production designer Alex McDowell takes over, topping the original, somewhat cheesy movie with eye-popping, otherworldly visual splendor. In a film of many marvels, the trained nut-cracking squirrels are worth a special mention.
Anyway, one by one, the brats misbehave and fall victim to the factory's many perils, as Wonka does little to rescue them. If the new movie has a drawback, it is the deletion of the original Anthony Newley-Leslie Bricusse songs. In this version, the factory's exotic employees, the Oompa-Loompas, do greet each mishap with a hip-hop kiss-off, with music by Danny Elfman and lyrics by Dahl. In an act of technical wizardry, all of the Oompa-Loompas are played by a single actor, the hard-working Deep Roy.
With his chalky makeup, child-like voice and momentary mental instabilities, not to mention his eagerness to share his theme park residence with youngsters, it is hard not to think of the links between Depp's Wonka and Michael Jackson. Intentional? Who knows. But there is no denying the virtuosity of Depp's controlled, crafty performance.
Despite its PG rating, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is really not aimed at tots. Certainly the movie's references to 2001: A Space Odyssey and Psycho will float over their heads. Adults, especially those with a penchant for gruesome humor, should find plenty to embrace here.
Which movie is better, 1971's technically naive Willy Wonka or Burton's version, with all its sophisticated bells and whistles? The good news is you don't have to choose. Go see Charlie, then head to your video store and check out Willy, for two very different, but equally entertaining experiences.
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