WONKA (2023)

Naturally, any sound-minded cinephile out there will look upon Wonka, a new fable about how Willy Wonka, that eccentric chocolate mogul created by Roald Dahl, came to be, and ask why this exists (though, I suspect, we all secretly know the answer – hint: it rhymes with “honey”). What warmly abated one’s cynicism, however, was the contribution of Paul King as director. King, as some may recall, was the same man behind the two lovely little Paddington films, the first released in 2014 and the superior sequel in 2017. Indeed, the influence of the Paddington pictures can be seen and felt in every frame of Wonka, but whereas the frothy innocence of the Paddington movies seemed genuine, here in Wonka it feels manufactured.

In the role of Wonka, the pale waif that is Timothée Chalamet admirably attempts to evoke the same impish quality that the puckish Gene Wilder – and, to a lesser degree, Johnny Depp – had while also lending the role a springy, youthful energy. Lamentably, despite his game effort, Chalamet is ultimately miscast in the role of Willy Wonka. Added to this it also doesn’t help that his singing (and this is putting it in tactful terms) is comparable to a stuttering cat. The sweetest element of the film lies not in its starry cast, complete with plenty of British talent such as Olivia Colman, Rowan Atkinson and Matt Lucas, Paterson Joseph and Matthew Baynton as a sort of Boggis-Bunce-and-Bean-type trio of panto villains, but rather in the luscious production design which is suitably endearing and enchanting in all the right ways. Such a statement should hardly be surprising given that it’s by the same folk that marvellously brought the wizarding world of J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter to life all those years ago.

Though there is much fun to be had in this visually delightful and delectable picture, the one element that fans of Mr. Dahl’s book will notice is sorely lacking is that streak of malevolence, that sense of something sinister and sour lurking beneath the sugary surface that was there in both the original source and even the flawed but fascinating 1971 adaptation. For better or worse, any germ of the macabre here is promptly eradicated and consumed by saccharine whimsy. Still, for all its hollow creaks and superficial quirks, Wonka is full of heart and charm and harmless silliness.