Charlie and the Disappointing Factory

Warner Bros. Studio Executive: So, Mr. Burton, how would you best recreate one of our most cherished movies, beloved by generations one of the most visually stimulating films of all time?

Tim Burton: Well, I think I'll dress Willy Wonka up like Liberace and include an unnecessary and cringe-worthy back story that adds nothing to the film and subtracts a lot from the filmgoer's experience.

I'm assuming that's the way conversations went between the studio and director, because there's no other way to explain "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." It seems the best way to make us all forget about the excellent original book adaptation was to make something weird, computer-generated, and not nearly as good.

Welcome to Wonka for the new millennium. Instead of being an ornery chocolatier suspicious of the conniving adults, this Willy Wonka doesn't understand proper human interaction because his father wouldn't let him have chocolate as a child. Seriously, that's why he's so weird.

Instead of children who realistically give into their urges and thwart their progress in Wonka's competition, we have completely nonsensical over-characterizations of hyper-selfish children who render the title character nearly invisible.
Instead of a the magnificent Gene Wilder, we get the Michael Jackson-channeling Johnny Depp.

But it didn't have to be that way! Sure, "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" was always going to be judged against the original, fairly or unfairly. But on its own, it started out so strong. The opening scenes show a loving Bucket family, where adults are pleased to sacrifice for their wonderful young boy. In the first 20 minutes, you will actually get anxious waiting for Charlie to find his golden ticket.

But from there, it all goes to crap. Yes, Burton's chocolate factory is pretty. There are nut-sorting squirrels, an animotronic chorus, and a slick glass elevator. But watching as these children mope from scene to scene, you can't help but feel that computers have been added as screenwriters have been lost. It's as if these characters were written only to be humiliated, without caring about why they're so bad in the first place.

For all of the excesses, we're left with what we all knew we would be: a 2000's version of a 70's film based on a 60's book. In those 40 years, Dahl's careful whimsy was replaced with Burton's showy extravagance.