This is not your father's Willy Wonka. Nowhere near.

Rating: 9/10 (23 August 2006)

When I heard about this, I thought Depp and Burton had lost their collective mind. After all, the original is a classic. It's a defining moment in Gene Wilder's career. To remake it would be sacrilege.
Burton has passed miracles before, and Depp is a good enough actor that he could do the role justice. ButÂ… no. Can't work, won't work. No way. Dahl's book is a little dark, it might not translate well. And Elfman always does music for Burton, there's no telling what sort of operatic craziness he'll come up with.
Finally I broke down and watched it. Several times. And it's a hoot! Depp's Wonka is sorta clueless. The reason for this is explained early on; after ten years in the candy business, Wonka got tired of being ripped off by his competitors, closed his plant, and fired everybody. A few years later, Wonka reopened, but no one knew who was running it. Supplies came in, product came out, but no workers were ever seen. It went on that way for ten years. And then came the Golden Ticket business, and that's where we come in.
What this version does is cover the backstory, including Wonka's start in the business, his father, the burst of rebellion that made him become a candy maker, Charlie's father and the rest of the Bucket family, and the origin of the Oompa Loompas. They're not the same as the ones in the other film Not midgets in white suits with poufs on their toes and orange skin. There's really only one of them. And through CGI and animatronic trickery that you have to see to believe, they're all played by little man actor Deep Roy, who works harder than any dozen regular-size actors in this. He does intricate choreographed dance numbers, synchronized swimming, acrobatics and gymnastics, and plays all the instruments in two rock bands, one patterned after the Dave Clark Five, the other a cross between Queen and any number of other Eighties hair bands. And he's funny! Deepie doesn't actually talk, and he certainly doesn't sing, but without saying a word he's funny. When he does say something, it's in someone else's voice, usually Danny Elfman's. Danny does all the singing, usually in some massive multi-track overdub harmony.
Willy's dad, Dr. Wilbur Wonka, is a protective, domineering figure essayed by the only man who could do it, Sir Christopher Lee. Chris is a forceful presence under normal conditions, but as Wilbur Wonka, DDS, he's flat unnerving. He loves his son, but won't say so, just tries very hard to show him so, and like most men of that ilk, scares the hell out of his kid. And like most kids, Willy finally takes all he can and leaves.
There are changes in the minor characters. The Beauregardes are now from Atlanta, and instead of Smilin' Sam the used car salesman, we have Sissy or whatever her name is, played by Missi Pyle, possibly the most delectable woman to come out of Memphis in the last twenty years. Violet is now a karate-kicking little girl who's obsessed with winning. Mike Teavee is in the company of his dad, a bland geography teacher. Mike is like the character in the book, only more so; when he first appears, he's sitting on the living room floor, playing some sort of first-person shooter on his Xbox, mowing down bad guys and screaming "DIE!" The gaggle of reporters look suitably wigged out. In the book, he likes gangster shows and wears a huge number of toy guns. Here, he doesn't need them; he's scary enough without them.
Veruca is a skinny, fox-faced little Brit whose father looks like the wealthy estate owner he's supposed to be, as opposed to the pudgy, henpecked fellow played by Roy Kinnear in the original. Only Augustus and his mother are almost the same as they were before.
Charlie Bucket and his grandfather Joe are the most changed here. David Kelly's frail Grandpa Joe is far more believable than Jack Albertson was; in places he reminds me of a British Martin Landau, something I think Burton had in mind. Freddie Highmore is a lot more believable than Peter Ostrum; he always struck me as being a little too robust, where this Charlie is frail and underfed. He's also a lot smarter; when he comes home with the Golden Ticket, he tells his family that he's gonna sell it, because they need the money a lot more than they need the chocolate. They won't hear of it. Grandfather George tells him that money is not that big a deal, but this ticket is, there're only five and he might never have this chance again.
Depp as Wonka is a marvel to behold. He's got almost no social skills, having spent the last ten years of his life with nobody but Oompa Loompas to talk to. He wears purple rubber gloves, a pageboy haircut, and reads his responses off cue cards. His skin's an odd bluish-white, he dresses like an Edwardian dandy, and is as odd a duck as you'll see in your lifetime. He's like Michael Jackson without any social skills. Yet for all this, there's something sweet and endearing about him. A lesser actor could not have done this role justice. But Johnny Depp's dysfunctional take on Willy Wonka, man-child chocolatier, is superb.
This movie's worth seeing just on the strength of the set design and Deep Roy. The rest of the performances are really delicious gravy, and make an already cool movie seem even cooler. Burton knocked this one out of the park, and between it and Corpse Bride he has renewed his credentials as one of the greatest filmmakers of his generation. Don't just rent this movie, buy it. You'll want to watch it repeatedly.