'Wonka' briefing

3 (out of 4)

            WHO saw this one coming?? Seriously I want to know! How rare it is when a movie that not only sounded like a bad idea in conception alone but also looked fairly revolting from the previews somehow overcomes just about every limitation and apprehension. It's hard to believe Warner Brothers' Willy Wonka origin story is a children's musical light-years lovelier than Disney’s centennial piece Wish (maybe their worst Theatrical Animated Feature, like, ever) and a better squeeze of intellectual property than what anyone would’ve imagined the more soulful franchising, Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget, which lamentably does a good deal less to honor its celebrated progenitor.

This severely this kicked the crap out of Tim Burton’s edgier yet more ‘faithful’ redo of Willy from 2005, the only comparison is swapping daddy issues for sweeter Momma’s boy weak spots. Sure Christopher Lee can do plenty with nothing but Sally Hawkins elevated Paddington (not to mention anything else she’s touched) and serves as a nice secret weapon here. I'm shocked how darn cute Wonka was, how delightful, if somewhat forgettable, the tunes (SCRUB scrub), how delicately fanciful Timothée Chalamet’s turn is, and most unfathomable of all: that miraculously Hugh Grant’s Oompa Loompa (just after a villainous turn in Paddington 2) didn’t Achilles heel the whole project, especially after painfully punctuating each trailer.

But there you have it — I initially couldn't help but feel some certainty that director Paul King, relatively early into his career, was coerced by fat Hollywood checks to sell out, not unlike what Disney’s forced many MCU stooges to do — but no, the critical kindness (not to mention the fat box office haul) was actually earned because the man in charge is a great tactician of valuable children’s entertainment, finding himself ascending nearer to a correspondingly cinematic place akin to Roald Dahl as one of the key voices of youngster lit. Paddington is wonderful, 2 almost nearly as excessively charming, I don’t need to cite the sequel’s recent reign as the best-reviewed movie on Rotten Tomatoes to recall. Even his modest debut Bunny and the Bull makes something out of nothing through a rambunctious road trip format, showing his knack for the artifice of DIY VFX quite early. Since Bunny, King's immediate capacity for more "grown-up" humor has been filtered through a PG lens (siphoning none of the cleverness thank God) much like Lord and Miller bouncing between fashioning the hard-R hilarity of the Jump Street movies and the fetching, funny, tot-targeted flicks Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs and The LEGO Movie.

All the precise whimsy, dynamic enough musical numbers free with insistent melodies and amusing lyrics, even the little self-aware nods felt like reasonable evidence of a kid's movie that quickly, skillfully becomes an all-ages affair with equal measure in store for any lifespan. Wonka’s defiant, unfazed innocence, met with Timothée’s own winning efforts and face fit for all forms of cheek-pulling, sells the surface of holiday family fare that speaks directly to the light fantasy elements of the original film, that 1970s fluke still FAR and above this movie’s blindsiding quality. It’s not the emo, quasi-English garbage of Burton’s sights despite the London setting (though the odd steampunk magician mechanics have their place) nor does King feel the need to overload on nostalgic plucks and pokes at your memory. Other than Oompa Loompa refrains and “Pure Imagination” with inspired new verses, every song is original and pleasing, advancing story, comedy and fun, rarely reading as false, forced, too soon or too late. Other than some incredibly fine print, laundry stew, consumer-grade levitation and the occasional symphonic motif of an older musical theme — none of which it bothersome mind you — Wonka is like a vacation, “a holiday in your head” next to Disney's despicable, disgraceful pandering toward rabid Star Wars and Marvel devotees.

Young Calah Lane as Noodle is winsome indeed as the major player next to Timmy, each of our trio of villains (Mathew Baynton, Matt Lucas and Paterson Joseph) is more deliciously diabolical than the next, hell the whole supporting cast, including Keegan-Michael Key’s police chief, Olivia Colman's even more evil Mrs. Scrubitt and her many prisoners, is nestled firmly in the enchantment. King even makes room for a regular, the titular Bunny from Bunny and the Bull Simon Farnaby — the hyper-sexual funny man is yet again a security guard like the Paddington movies, and he’s the face, or rather the silhouette, of one of this movie’s best gags. Sure there’s the occasional dud in the joke department but mostly Wonka’s confections courtesy of King are an unqualified treat, with visual effects only slightly overused but largely appropriately practical. The movie's darkness is mild as far as the delightfully knowing, mature-for-kids sense of the original goes (I could've done with even more underground chocolate mafia moments), and thankfully this Willy is not some stunted weirdo à la Johnny Depp’s shameful iteration, but a kid for life in the most exuberant, mischievous sense — the slight distinctions matter here, like worrying about undoing the mystery of the character to begin with, though the impish character retains a beaming ambiguity, more than the backstory bullshitting of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Shaping a dreamer rather than some creep with an affect does this movie wonders. If it’s reminding me of fellow Brit Joe Cornish’s exceptional young people’s feature films (Attack the Block, The Kid Who Would Be King) and evoking the spirit of Chocolat, that also doesn’t hurt.

New kids classic? Maybe not. Biggest surprise of the year? I think so. What I’ve really learned other than sharing good things with friends is MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE THING ITSELF is this — don’t judge a movie on its trailer or theoretical desperation. For Dahl media, I couldn't dream of this rubbing up next to Nicholas Roeg’s heartily homespun, brutally British The Witches, Henry Selick’s stop-motion staple James and the Giant Peach, Danny Devito’s marvelous, masterful Matilda and Wes Anderson’s slightly too Andersonian Fantastic Mr. Fox (not to mention his now Oscar-winning adaptation of The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar). If this recent Roald revival is worth anything, it's that this truly titillating, disaster-deviating prequel sits comfortably above less chancy modern adaptations (that should've sucked), particularly Robert Zemeckis’ inoffensive, CG-slathered Witches and the better-than-expected Matilda the Musical, a fine Broadway companion piece to the ‘95 gold standard. Then, after all that unspoiled goodwill, I wouldn’t mind SEQUELS to fucking WONKA? See, the imagination isn’t exactly 100% pure but it sure it scrumdiddly-oh scratch that.