Knock on Wood

When I first heard about Wonka, I assumed it would be a soulless cash grab…and can you blame me? An origin story for one of Roald Dahl’s most famously quirky characters seemed like an unnecessarily tall order, and as far as I know, a story that no one was clamoring for. Do we need to know why Willy Wonka is the chocolate-obsessed weirdo we all know and love? Do we need an explanation for why he is the way that he is?

But then, all of the right pieces started slowly falling into place. The cast was rounded out with an array of affable character actors, Irish singer/songwriter Neil Hannon was announced to contribute several musical numbers, and most importantly, Paddington director Paul King came in as co-writer and director. Everything seemed perfectly poised to make what could be a legitimately great film.

The weakest link, surprisingly, is the headliner. Timothée Chalamet was cast as the titular chocolate maker in May 2021, and even after seeing the finished product, I’m still skeptical about his place in the film overall. He seems to be lifting some performance choices from both Gene Wilder and Johnny Depp, the only other actors who have portrayed Wonka on-screen, as well as infusing some of his own crazy-eyed oddity into the role. Despite being a hallmark of the character, that’s the part that he couldn’t quite sell – it almost feels like he’s trying too hard. It doesn’t help that he has a face that screams modernity and practically broadcasts that he knows what an iPhone is, causing him to stick out in the period setting. If that was intentional, I can’t fault Chalamet for that. But it did take me out of the movie more than once.

Chalamet’s Willy Wonka arrives in an unnamed European metropolis in the 1920s with aspirations to establish a chocolate shop in the famed Galeries Gourmet, only to discover a cartel of chocolate-makers (Slugworth, Prodnose, and Fickelgruber, whom fans of the original story may remember as being Wonka’s chief rivals) are intent on wiping out any and all competition. Wonka finds himself indentured to a cruel innkeeper (played with a kick of wry humor by Oscar winner Olivia Colman), and begins to scheme alternative ways of bringing his dream to life.

Luckily, Wonka is not your standard origin story. It doesn’t take the Solo route of over-contextualizing the eponymous character’s place in the fictional world and giving an explanation for every single aspect of their personality – in fact, Wonka allows us to intuit most of those things, and never even gives a name to the city we spend the majority of the film in. Instead, we soak up the magical realism and bask in the fantastical; there don’t need to be defined rules because it’s a very unique setting. The rules are whatever the film says they are…and if there aren’t any, that’s just another opportunity for the magic to sweep you away.

We could argue all day about whether a movie’s existence is “necessary” or “worthwhile,” and I will admit to being dubious about whether Wonka could actually work as a piece of art unto itself. But through the combined efforts of a vivacious cast and crew and the effervescent charm that Paul King is able to imbue into every single one of his films, it somehow works. It doesn’t matter that Chalamet’s performance didn’t work for me all the time, or that it wasn’t a story I was very attached to in the first place; despite everything acting against it, I was delighted.

I will admit to rolling my eyes more than once at the songs, of which there are more than a few. But they’re earworms, and I found myself humming and thinking about them long after the credits rolled. Regardless of how I feel about a film when I’m watching it, a big part of the experience for me is what lingers afterward. For as much contrived cheesiness as Wonka throws in our faces, it left me with a warm feeling and a jaunty tune echoing in my brain. That’s where the real magic is – an immersive allowance to indulge in the pleasure of happiness and joy at the very core of human emotion.

Wonka is playing in theaters.