欢乐糖果屋

It seems British author Roald Dahl cannot suffer bratty, pettish kids gladly, in his beloved children story, CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY, he has no qualms about dispensing with those gluttonous, insolent, spoilt and/or TV-obsessed whippersnappers and their equally obnoxious parents at short notice, save for Charlie Bucket, the veritably virtuous poor kid who will receive a windfall.

In this film adaptation, directed by the journeyman Mel Stuart, an obligingly spirited Gene Wilder headlines it as Willy Wonka, the wacky, evasive entrepreneur of the chocolate factory, who creates a global brouhaha after announcing that there are five golden tickets hidden in the mass produced Wonka chocolate bars, and whoever discovers it will be granted with a factory tour and a lifetime supply of chocolate. Of course, if you don’t have a sweet tooth, that doesn’t really pique your interest, yet zillions of people are motived and many a comical skit is skewered together, before Charlie (Ostrum) finds his own ticket.

But before that, the film pulls out all the stops to make Charlie’s expected discovery as surprising as possible, not that he is the last one of the five beneficiaries, he must also come in for several letdowns before blissing out when he least expects, and the impression is that the golden ticket can make or break Charlie’s entire household, which includes his widow mother (Sowle, a ringer of Suzanne York), works as a laundress and four bedridden grandparents, among which grandpa Joe (Academy winner Albertson, avuncular and surprisingly fleet-footed) is his favorite, and becomes his chaperone to the much hyped factory tour.

Once Wonka materializes in the entrance of the factory to welcome the lucky ticket-holders, with a handspring gimmick notwithstanding, the movie’s momentum kicks off sizably, what awaits us is a rabbit hole composed of a candy garden, a chocolate river, and a handful of unwieldy contraptions (a psychedelic tunnel, among other things) that are inscribed with its 70s filmmaking hallmarks, including a striking instance of proto-blue screen FX, all enclosed within a vibrant vivarium-scale fantasyland that is the fruition of intensive work of the art production team.

As a musical fantasy set in a Podunk, Stuart’s film also boosts a colorful soundtrack including its dulcet Oscar-nominated score and the introduction of the song The Candy Man, but the sheer exploitation of those nameless dwarf actors as Oompa-Loompas doesn’t sit well with anyone with a sensitive disposition (Tim Burton’s remake has a less grating effect by employing Deep Roy alone and reproducing him through computer wizardry).

If it is galling to see those otherworldly homunculi are deployed only as labor force (I wish at least the actors' paycheck is gracious), for what it is worth, Wonka’s experiment to give decaying human morality another try turns out propitious in the end, and before the film becomes self-consciously cloying, we are quite content to vicariously drift aloft and not give a toss about what has happened to the other four hapless brats, presumably bogged down in a pool of sugary confections.

referential entries: Tim Burton’s CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY (2005, 7.6/10); Victor Fleming’s THE WIZARD OF OZ (1939, 8.2/10).