Freddie and Johnny and Tim, Oh My!: Willy Wonka Revisited

This is the summer of the remake, it seems. How many must we suffer through? The Dukes of Hazzard, Bewitched, Bad News Bears… luckily, there is at least one rehashing that is worth the audience’s time and attention. Conveniently enough, it has a different name than the original, making it easy to distinguish. I speak, of course, of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Now, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory is undeniably a classic, with the musical numbers (especially the goofy Oompa Loompa tunes); the silly snippets of folks around the world going to great lengths to get a winning ticket; the inane lessons of Charlie’s teacher (who is probably my favorite character); the repulsive behavior of Veruca Salt and the reactions of her cowed father; and of course, the antics of Gene Wilder as eccentric but self-assured Willy Wonka. But after seeing Tim Burton’s skewed mind take on the equally skewed world of Roald Dahl, I may be prepared to pronounce him the victor.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory opens with an eye-catching demonstration of the process by which Wonka bars are made and delivered to stores around the world. It’s a preview of the brilliant land we will enter once Willy opens his factory to five lucky ticket holders. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Our first glimpse of the protagonist is in considerably more drab surroundings: a precariously leaning shack in the middle of town, where seven family members huddle over bowls of cabbage soup. I confess here that while I have seen the previous film many times, one of them this year, I have read the book only once, many years ago. So I remember the film much more clearly and found myself making comparisons to that instead of the book, to which this movie sticks more closely. I honestly cannot recall if Charlie Bucket (Freddie Highmore) had a dad (Noah Taylor) in the book, but he definitely did not in the movie, so seeing this extra family member was a considerable surprise – the first of many.

Several characters and plot points are notably different in this film. In fact, the major conflict has nothing whatsoever to do with Slugworth or everlasting gobstoppers, both of which are given only the briefest of mentions, almost as a nod to the prior movie. Gone entirely is the bubble chamber in which Charlie and Grandpa Joe do a bit of giddy floating – and, sadly, so is Charlie’s teacher. But for every missing element, there is something grander to take its place, and the film becomes less about Charlie’s dedication to a loony chocolatier and more about his devotion to the family members who have nurtured him for so long in spite of their poverty.

The cast is top-notch, starting with dear young Freddie. Ever since I saw him in Two Brothers, I was hooked. By Finding Neverland, he had become my favorite male child actor since Haley Joel Osment (female vote goes to Dakota Fanning). And now, with his adorable toothy grin, impossibly large blue eyes, husky voice and apparent inherent sweetness, he makes me fall utterly in love with Charlie Bucket. I always thought the original Charlie was just okay, but Freddie is phenomenal, and Burton couldn’t have made a better casting choice. Mum (Helena Bonham Carter) and Dad are a perfectly pleasant pair of doting parents. The fact that Mr. Bucket works in a toothpaste factory is an amusing detail, and his “special perks” allow Charlie to build a fantastic model of the fabled factory. Meanwhile, the grandparents are comical and more well-defined than before. Grandpa George (David Morris) is a crusty old curmudgeon who enjoys cursing and generally spreading his negativity around as far as it will go, to the general annoyance of his fellow bedridden nonagenarians. Grandma Georgina (Liz Smith) is a bit batty, while Grandma Josephine (Eileen Essell) is warm and comforting. Once again, though, it is Grandpa Joe (David Kelly of Waking Ned Devine fame) who is developed the most fully. He and Charlie share an especially close bond, and in this film he isn’t just an intrigued outsider when it comes to the chocolate factory. He actually worked there himself for a number of years before Willy Wonka laid off his entire staff and locked the factory gates after too many of his secrets began leaking out. Joe is sweet and funny, and his oversize glasses add a pleasantly goony touch to his appearance.

There are of course the same four obnoxious children, though two of them have been altered somewhat. The scenes in which they are introduced are nearly identical to those in the first film, aside from a lack of Slugworth slinking around in the background. Augustus Gloop (Philip Wiegratz) and his mother (Franziska Troegner) are virtually identical to the pair in the first movie. They look the same, they act the same. Every time we see Augustus, he is stuffing his face. He does have one new little scene in the film that tickled my funny bone terribly. As the children are making their way into the factory, A chocolate bar-toting Augustus, in what I took to be an uncharacteristic moment of kindness, asks Charlie if he would like some chocolate. Charlie also appears taken aback by this gesture but gratefully accepts his generosity, at which point Augustus taunts, “Too bad! You should have brought your own!” and runs off. Aside from that, though, pretty old hat. He’s the first to go, so we never did get to know him all that well.

Veruca Salt (Julia Winter) is someone we know all too well, however. While Augustus is too busy gorging himself to say much, Veruca is always opening her mouth to demand from her father (James Fox) whatever happens to pop into her head at the moment. I’ve already said I found Burton’s casting inspired, but in this case I just don’t think the original can be improved upon. The original Veruca was the essence of obnoxiousness, and her poor overwrought father was pathetic as he was entertaining. And her show-stopping performance with the golden geese… Well, who could forget that? She was the only one of the four brats who got her own musical number. Our local Youtheatre put on a performance of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory when I was in ninth grade, and every girl auditioning seemed to have her eye on Veruca’s part. Nobody cared about Violet. I think this owes a lot to Julie Dawn Cole, the young lady originating the role, and I have to give her props for that. So I don’t really have a complaint with this Veruca, but I just think this is a case in which the original can’t be outdone. And her father is much more of a prim and proper sort of fellow, which is much less entertaining than the blustering coot we saw in the original. Veruca’s grand scene is vastly different than in the original, though it’s the same basic concept. Though I didn’t like the song as much, I must say I enjoyed the particular participants in this scene immensely, owing to a personal preference. They’re certainly a lot cuter than the geese.

Veruca always had a corner on rudeness in the first film, but Burton seems determined to make the other kids catch up as much as possible. Violet Beauregarde (Annasophia Robb) is utterly insufferable. A competitive know-it-all, she is a virtual clone of her mother (Missi Pyle), who eggs Violet on in all of her pursuits. “Eyes on the prize,” she tells her daughter when they learn that one of the five children will receive an extra special prize at the end of the tour. Violet does her best to ingratiate herself to Willy Wonka, but she must be seriously deluded if she thinks that her constant insults flung at the factory owner are making her any point. Mike Teavee (Jordan Fry) is similarly incorrigible, and while the other parents think their kids can do no wrong, his dad (Adam Godley) seems weary and even afraid of the tyke, who greatest passion is violent video games. Both these children seem to serve as a way for Burton to comment on certain unpalatable aspects of contemporary society: over-competitive children with pushy stage moms, and addictive violent video games. Mr. Teavee replaces Mr. Salt as the petrified parent.

Of course, by far the actor who has gotten the most attention in this film is Johnny Depp, who has made a career out of playing extremely eccentric characters. Willy Wonka is an oddball, that’s for sure. But Depp’s Wonka is an entirely different kind of weirdo than Gene Wilder’s. Wilder made the titular character manipulative, almost demonic at times, and always in complete control of the situation. He was clearly self-assured, while Depp’s Wonka is insecure to the max. Before I saw the movie, I heard all sorts of buzz about how much this Wonka seemed to resemble Michael Jackson, a comment I thought was odd, especially since they look nothing alike. However, with these comments zipping about in my mind, I couldn’t help but look for similarities. And perhaps because I was looking, I found them. Most obviously, Wonka appears androgynous. He looks more like a girl than a guy, and he speaks with an unnaturally high voice. He doesn’t seem to know how to interact with normal people, but he has built a wonderland, which he shares not with children but with the beleaguered Oompa Loompas. He, too, feels he suffered a great deal at the hands of his father (Christopher Lee, looking characteristically creepy in a series of loopy flashbacks) and was robbed of a normal childhood. He also wears funny gloves, and there is the small matter of those 80s-ish dance routines concocted by his employees. So yeah, I see a few similarities. And you know what? I always liked Michael Jackson. And I think this Wonka is a lot more likable than the original. He’s afraid of his own shadow. He’s amused by the strangest things. He recoils from human touch and is so repulsed by the whole notion of family that he can’t even say the word “parents.” But he’s really quite a sweet man, and it’s easy to feel sorry for him. But not for Depp, who is more likely to be envied, as he is clearly one of the most talented actors working today. Like Jude Law, he emerges in each new role almost unrecognizable. I can’t wait for Corpse Bride.

So much imagination went into this production. I really think Dahl would have been pleased. In addition to the ultra-bright chocolate river room featured on movie posters, I found two scenes particularly arresting. One was the introductory puppet performance that we heard in the previews of this movie several months ago. Monstrously irritating, impressively complex, and certainly a little nutty, it reminded me of a similar device in Shrek and paved the way for a hilarious first impression of Wonka. The other scene, which made me recall Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, depicts the Great Glass Elevator in all its glory, going all the ways we know it can but never get to see in the original. There certainly is a lot to see in this factory, and the visuals here are impressive. It’s also fun to see how many of the room labels you can read before the camera pans away.

Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory is a beloved movie that I will always be fond of. But I think this is one of those rare instances where the remake actually managed to outdo the original. When the first film was so good, that’s really saying something. Tim Burton and Roald Dahl are an ideal combination; I wish he’d tackle more of his books. But I am certainly glad he was not too intimidated by the other’s classic status to tackle this project. Three cheers for Charlie!

A Pretty Impressive Capper, But Vader Should Still Seek Revenge for Defamation of Character

“Star Wars is the defining event of our lives,” my dad remarked to my mom on our way home from seeing Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. “The first one came out just as we entered adulthood, and the last one just as our kids are entering adulthood.” It’s a formidable thought. Nearly 30 years for George to complete his legacy. Unless he still has the triple trilogy in mind… It’s strange, setting up a series in such a way that everyone knows how the story ends long before it begins. We all knew that this third installment leading directly into the epic that started it all would be by far the darkest of the six. It makes for a slightly surreal experience, knowing that everything has to go wrong, watching in revulsion but stopping just short of willing it not to happen because you know it’s required for the glorious events of the original trilogy. In the end it begs the question: Did we really need these prequels in the first place? I’m not a hard-core enough fan to answer that question. But I recognize this is the end of an era, and I celebrate it by making it my 600th review – one hundred for each movie if you like. No matter what, you have to admit George Lucas had a pretty impressive accomplishment.

So, how was it? Well, I missed the mayhem of opening night, though my brother and our exchange student got in on the fun. My parents and I saw it three days later. We still had to buy our tickets three hours in advance and wait in line for an hour after turning in our tickets in order to be assured decent seats. Aside from a few light sabers, ours was not a costumed audience. Only one man had the full regalia, a fellow who’d been there for the first showing (and maybe every night after) in his $2700 Darth Vader costume. I want one. Not really. I’d rather have a life-size R2-D2. Anyway, we were treated to a rather unusual occurrence that night. Just before the previews were about to start, the lights went up and a man, armed with the disclaimer that he had nothing to do with the movie, announced that he was attending with his girlfriend, who was very special to him, and he requested that she join him in front of the screen. Then he proceeded to get down on one knee and propose, and her affirmative answer was met with rapturous applause. Oddly enough, I think it was the loudest applause of the night…

Trouble is, Revenge of the Sith is rarely a movie that makes you cheer. It’s like a Shakespearean tragedy, with Anakin (Hayden Christiansen) in the spot occupied by Othello and MacBeth and other anti-heroes who leave the audience groaning and thinking again and again, You moron! Anakin is a decent guy at the start of the film, teaming up with master Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) to battle evil robots while rushing to the defense of indispensable little R2-D2 (Kenny Baker) when his mentor maligns him. His passion is his undoing, however. In spite of Yoda’s warnings to release himself from attachment to anything he fears to lose, he is increasingly driven by paranoia brought on by a series of disturbing dreams about his beloved secret bride Padme (Natalie Portman). Christiansen doesn’t bug me as much in this movie as he did in Attack of the Clones, but he’s still too moody and whiny to be very likable, or very impressive. I can put up with Luke’s petulance at the outset of A New Hope; at least he comes across as a sweet guy. I don’t know how I wanted Anakin to be, but I think I preferred having his origins ambiguous. Darth Vader is arguably the most formidable movie villain in cinematic history, and I find him cheapened by an inadequate history. And while we are supposed to believe that the intensity of his love for Padme is so great that he is willing to all but destroy the Jedi order to ensure her safety, they always seem wooden in their scenes together. It doesn’t help that they’re still hampered by the occasional excruciating dialogue. If my husband had just told me that he wanted to take over the galaxy, I’d like to think I could have come up with something more useful to say than “You’re breaking my heart.”

If Christiansen still lacks chemistry with Portman, he demonstrates it with McGregor. They kick off the film together with a dizzying action sequence at the conclusion of which a light-hearted conversation between Obi-Wan and Anakin reveals just a hint of jealousy that the padawan is outranking his teacher. Theirs is a relationship torn by the tension between affection and ambition. For the most part, we do get the sense Obi-Wan accepts the notion that he is training a Jedi who will become more powerful than him and resents the fact that other members of the council find Anakin less than trustworthy. Anakin, however, is less generous, always grumbling about Obi-Wan standing in the way of what he wants to do. It doesn’t take him long to abandon concern for his master. As Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid) leads him further down the path of corruption, Obi-Wan looks more and more like the enemy. McGregor helms most of the film’s truly emotional scenes, most notably the culmination of their climactic battle in which an agonized Obi-Wan is forced to admit once and for all that he has lost his padawan forever. We see a great deal more from McGregor this time around, and I would classify him as a much better actor than Christiansen. It’s just a shame that one of the most beloved Star Wars characters was played by two different actors who’ve seemed almost resentful of the fact that they were involved. I suspect McGregor’s recent comments on his fans may have alienated a few people; I guess he has a hunch now how Sir Alec Guinness felt.

I found it very hard to feel sorry for Anakin throughout the film, even if his initial motivation was noble. It’s sad to see him manipulated by Palpatine, who is perhaps the true star of the film as McDiarmid takes him from benign presence who nonetheless seems to possess a slightly sinister air to fully disclosed evil emperor. But it seems good judgment should have tipped him off early on that Palpatine was up to no good. He recoils at Palpatine’s request to kill Count Dooku (Christopher Lee, who must be getting tired of playing second-tier villains with somewhat embarrassing death scenes) and refuses to acquiesce to his demand that – supposedly in the interests of time – they leave Obi-Wan behind. But apparently there are years of influence at work that we don’t see on screen. Palpatine is truly frightening for most of the film, evoking a moral crisis in Anakin, particularly when he announces his familiarity with the dark side and offers to pass on his knowledge. I found the altercation in the theater unsatisfactory on Christiansen’s end, or at least whoever wrote the dialogue. Palpatine’s fine, but Anakin again seems stiff and unconvincing. The scene sets us up for the moment that should demonstrate to him once and for all that this guy is extremely bad news but instead seems to eradicate any trace of a decent human being in young Skywalker. Perhaps he sees himself as party to such a calamity that he already deems himself irredeemable. All he supposedly cares about now is Padme, though once he begins to carry out Palpatine’s orders it can hardly be said that thoughts of her have any influence over his actions. The last indication in the film that she still means anything to him is so excruciating, one wonders how James Earl Jones could have been convinced to decimate his dignity by agreeing to it.

Mace Windu (Samuel L. Jackson) embodies the struggle for the Jedi to remain relevant in a time of great change. He is a formidable force, rather like the man who plays him. I find it amusing that he talked Lucas into giving him a purple light saber so he’d stand out and that he actually included a stipulation in his contract that his character had to have a noteworthy death scene. Visually, it’s pretty riveting. Emotionally, it’s the turning point of the whole film. Yoda (Frank Oz) spends much of the movie hobnobbing with the Wookiees, and while I was looking forward to this aspect of the film, it didn’t really satisfy me. For one thing, I imagined the planet as an idyllic locale, and it might have been if not for the fact that it was a war zone. The Wookiees almost looked like Klingons with all their ammo and war decorations, and when it came right down to it the whole interlude at their planet seemed to serve little purpose other than to get Yoda out of the line of fire for a while. Chewy (Peter Mayhew) shows up, but we don’t get any sense of his personality except that he’s on Yoda’s side. So that was a bit of a disappointment, but Yoda never fails to come through for me. He’s one of my three favorite characters in the trilogy, all of which conveniently appear in the prequels portrayed by the same actors. I still prefer the swamp-dwelling Yoda to the more dignified personage of the prequels, but he’s still the same delightful character, and he radiates wisdom and heart in a film whose protagonist stands in sore need of both.

The droids are my other favorites. There is precious little to be seen of C-3PO, though when he is on screen he certainly attracts attention with his ultra-shiny new frame. Generally he’s a great chatterbox, and I could have used more of his silly comments. I was also rather perplexed by his appearance just after Anakin departs to subvert the inevitable altercation between Palpatine and Mace Windu. It cuts to Padme, and C-3PO waddles up to her, and then it cuts to a completely different scene. Those five or ten seconds seemed completely superfluous, and I was left with the impression that a scene had been deleted and due to sloppy editing or a teaser for the DVD or whatever, they left the beginning of it intact. R2-D2 shines in Sith, however, particularly at the beginning. He is as much a hero as Anakin or Obi-Wan in the opening minutes, and he handles his sticky situation with typical good humor. Most of the movie’s funniest moments involve him. When we bought our tickets, we received a complementary copy of Flick, a Cinemark magazine, and this issue focused entirely on Star Wars. One page advertises various available merchandise, including life-size cardboard stand-ups that come equipped with a chip allowing them to speak quotes from the movie. One of the figures is R2-D2, which begs the question, of what significant quote my favorite little garbage can-like being could boast. Still, he’s awfully expressive for a guy who speaks exclusively in a series of unintelligible squeaks, beeps and whistles, and you can never really accuse him of having a lame line.

So did Sith deliver all that I expected? I can’t say for sure, though a hunch still tells me no. Phantom Menace was a lot more fun, and I rather liked our feeling of jubilation as we exited the theater. It seemed the only appropriate reaction to the end of Sith was pensiveness. But it wasn’t any more depressing than I expected, and less violent than I thought it would be. It was visually stunning, though it lacked the beauty of Naboo as revealed in different forms in the first and second installments. The dizzying chases through space and sky threatened to give me vertigo, while Palpatine passed on the creepy crawlies every time he appeared on screen. Anakin, too, mainly in the horrific scenes following Mace Windu’s death that are as distressing for what they don’t show as what they do. The most tragic moment for me in the entire film was when a young Jedi, eyes wide with fear and trust, turned to Anakin for protection and received something entirely unexpected. In ten seconds, that young man packed an emotional whallop infinitely greater than what Jake Lloyd was able to accomplish in the course of an entire movie.

I won’t say that Sith impressed me as much as I thought it could have, but all in all it was a pretty affecting film and a mostly satisfactory link between Episodes I and II and the original trilogy. But I still think Darth Vader will never be quite as cool as he was before the prequels exposed Anakin as a character most undeserving of being the subject of a grandiose 6-part space epic.

Anakin and Amidala Are No Han and Leia

While I found some aspects of Phantom Menace to be rather disappointing, I still looked forward to the arrival of the second installment of the Star Wars prequel in theaters. The stirrings of foreboding occurred when I heard that the title would be Attack of the Clones - very B-movie-ish, if you ask me. As it turned out, the flaws I perceived in Phantom Menace melted away in comparison with its sequel. My brother tells me my feeble mind is incapable of grasping the intricacies of a plot he claims is easy to follow. Whatever the case may be, I had a hard time figuring out what was going on when I watched Attack of the Clones.

The bulk of the film concerns two separate plotlines. In one, Obi-Wan (Ewan McGregor) endeavors to discover the source of a poison dart used to kill now-Senator Amidala’s (Natalie Portman) would-be assassin. In the process, he learns of the existence of a clone army built for the use of the Republic, while the audience gets a bit of background on the mysterious Boba Fett. Meanwhile, Anakin (Hayden Christiansen) is left behind to protect Amidala, on whom he has had a crush since their meeting during the first film. Though Anakin is now nearly 20, Amidala still thinks of him as the child she last saw ten years earlier, while he yearns to be so much more. When she tells him, “Ani, you’ll always be that little boy I knew on Tattooine,” it’s the last thing he wants to hear. Tied in with this is Chancellor Palpatine’s (Ian McDiarmid) gradual corruption and the threat of Count Dooku (Christopher Lee), a former Jedi and war-monger. Several other threads run throughout the movie, and when I finished watching the movie for the first time I wasn’t very clear on all that had happened. To be precise, my feelings could best be summed up by the words of C-3PO in one of the film’s few funny moments: “I’m so confused.”

McGregor continues to do a solid but ultimately rather boring job as Obi-Wan. Not his fault, they just don’t give him that much to work with. He does have a few good moments with Anakin, including a pretty impressive speeder chase through the multi-level streets of a Las Vegas-style city in Coruscant. Maybe part of the trouble is that these people are a part of an established order and they always seem to know what they’re doing. There’s not the high level of uncertainty and trial and error that Luke, Leia and Han had.

But as in Phantom Menace, Obi-Wan is still one of the strongest characters in the film. Mace Windu (Samuel L. Jackson) gets more screen time in here, which he deserves, while Jar Jar (Ahmed Best) gets less, much to the satisfaction of his legions of anti-fans. There’s far too little of the droids, but they shine in their on-screen moments, as does Yoda (Frank Oz), who is afforded the chance to display some humor and get into a memorable light saber duel.

It should have been interesting to see the origins of Boba Fett (Daniel Logan), but the film failed to make me care. Or perhaps I was just too distracted by what was going on with Anakin to be properly moved by that storyline, which does build to a traumatic finish. Palpatine seems increasingly sinister and Dooku is appropriately intimidating, but neither made a huge impression on me. In fact, what I recall most about Attack of the Clones has nothing to do with the clones at all, but rather concerns the budding romance between Amidala and Anakin. I find it odd that Darth Vader is probably the most formidable, memorable character in the original Star Wars trilogy, and yet in the prequel he always seems to be the weakest link. I’m beginning to wonder whether an actor can be faulted for failing to impress when forced to deliver such uninspiring lines. From where I’m standing, though, it looks like Jake Lloyd was a lousy kiddie Anakin and Christiansen is a lousy post-adolescent Anakin.

He glowers his way through the movie, his dialogue stilted throughout. “Now that I’m with you again,” Anakin tells Amidala, “I’m in agony.” So am I, listening to him talk. What’s worse, Amidala falls for him. She spends the first third of the movie remembering him fondly as the boy who helped her out of a jam, the middle being creeped out by his lewd and very un-Jedi-like glances, and the end declaring her undying love for him. Where did that come from? Their on-screen chemistry is next to nil, and their romantic arc is barely believable. It certainly pales in comparison to the gradual development of Han and Leia’s relationship, complete with impassioned insults and several life-threatening situations. It’s bad enough for Anakin to be utterly infatuated with her, but there’s no reasonable explanation for her declaration, “I truly, deeply love you.” They haven’t spent enough time together for that, and most of that time sweet little Ani’s been acting like a creep.

Attack of the Clones is visually impressive, but there are far fewer beautiful scenes and absurd creatures in this film. Those that do appear stand out, particularly Dex, a greasy but cuddly cafe owner with whom Obi-Wan shares a companionable scene. There’s also less humor. Second installments in trilogies tend to be very dark and depressing, and aside from that infamous carbonite scene, Attack of the Clones is much more of a downer than Empire Strikes Back. Actually, that’s not strictly true, since we care more about the characters in Empire; Attack is more “blah” than distressing. Still, it sets a necessary stage for the third film, which hopefully will be the best of the three, though it promises a great deal of death and disorder. My favorite moments in Attack all involved Yoda, C-3PO and R2-D2, so Chewbacca’s presence in Revenge of the Sith is a good sign. Let’s just hope they get Anakin some better writers…