Tuesday, June 15, 2010

You'll be in a world of pure imagination...or not

With remakes attacking Hollywood like ants attack a picnic, debates are popping up in every circle over whose version is "better."

"The original Karate Kid is so much better than the remake; how could it not be, it's a classic!" vs. "Hell no, the remake is so much better, the stunts are cooler and Jackie Chan OWNS!"

Yeah. No thank you. When it comes to remakes, my policy is, "Well...they're two different films, really."

But what if the film in question is an adaptation to begin with? For instance, this summer's The Last Airbender, which is a remake of a film (2005's Avatar: The Last Airbender) that was based on a TV series--that's one movie that you can bet is under pressure. A fan of a TV show--or, heaven forbid, a book--isn't going to give a rat's fart if the director is acclaimed or if the lead role is played by an Oscar-winning actor or actress. No, they only care that the film portrays their beloved characters as realistically as possible.

I've just engaged in a massive argument with a fellow art student over a matter of remakes. Or one remake in particular, I should say: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Loaded topic much? Move over, Twilight--the fans of the original Roald Dahl book would steamroller you guys (although Harry Potter fans might give them a run for their money). And the fans of the 70s film adaptation, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, might just eat those book fans for lunch if said book fans don't agree that the film is the PERFECT representation of Dahl's work.

And then there's the final group, whom I like to call the Purists. I'm sure you've all met them--those people who insist that the book is dark and a representation of the nastiness vs. the innocence of childhood, and that it is in no way to be taken lightly. These are the people who consider the words "Gene Wilder" to be profanity, the people who think that musicals are fluffy brain candy and swear up and down that if the book MUST be made into film, the only man for the job was Tim Burton. And his "dark glamour" representation of the Wonka universe was the ONLY halfway decent representation of that world. Period. Creepy Johnny Depp portrayal, inserts of non-book scenes, Oompa Loompa rock-and-roll and all.

As my friend bluntly said when I told her all of this...wow.

Now, our argument was obviously Old Wonka Film vs. New Wonka Film. And, being a film student, most would think I'd side with the New Wonka Film. After all, Tim Burton is as we all know a BADASS director, and as anyone who knows me is well aware, I absolutely adore him. As well as Johnny Depp, a.k.a. the Remake Wonka. Johnny Depp is a damn good actor--that's putting it mildly. The effects in the newer Wonka film are spectacular, the lighting is great, and the cinematography is so good it nails Twilight to the proverbial wall. It is, without a doubt, a fantastic film.

And I don't like it.

I first saw Tim Burton's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory in summer 2005, when it was first in theatres. It was the first time I'd seen a Tim Burton film in a theatre and, naive, Burton-loving, easily-impressed twelve-year-old as I was, I was blown away. This was when I was just making the transition from "I wanna be an actress and be in cool movies," to "I wanna be a director and MAKE cool movies." A few months later, I received the DVD for my thirteenth birthday and fell in love with Wonka all over again--both the book and the movie--for about two or three weeks. Until recently, December 2005 was the last time I saw the Tim Burton version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

For those of you who have never seen or read Chocolate Factory, let me explain that it is a child's fantasy come to life, on page or onscreen. It's wish fulfillment at its best. Willy Wonka is the primo wacky grown-up, Charlie Bucket is the crackerjack lovable hero, and the other kids (Veruca, Mike, Violet, and Augustus) are perfect brats. You've gotta love it--it is the kid kingdom of total insanity. I won't pretend that it isn't violent in places--what kid's book isn't?--but the way I was introduced to this book, and later the movie, it is mostly a fantastic adventure where good, once again, triumphs over evil.

So, after a long time of not seeing either Wonka movie, and simply reading the book (as the Oompa-Loompas suggest--sorry, couldn't resist a Wonka joke there), I recently watched the re-do. And afterwards, I looked at the copy of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory that had sat next to me through the entire film, and promptly started to cry.

(Don't worry--I'm not crazy, I swear. I'm just veeeery emotional, especially when it comes to art, and yes, I do count writing as art. And I'm a huge Wonka geek. So yes, I cried, and no, it does not mean that I'm losing it. Anyway. Back to the post.)

To me, Willy Wonka is a lovable dork. He loves candy--and he loves kids. He pokes fun at life. He is enthusiastic and crazy in every possible way. He wears bright purple and acts, in general, like a big kid.

He does NOT dress like Michael Jackson (no offense, MJ), wear rubber gloves, burn up dolls for a grand entrance, scare people with his sunglasses, or gag on the word "Parents."

When you step into Wonka's factory, you should feel like you're about to get on a rollercoaster: Kind of nervous, but mostly excited and ready for some fun. You should not feel a sense of foreboding, like you're about to take the ACT without having studied. You should expect surprises--not torture. As Grandpa Joe says in the 70s Wonka film, "It's strange, but it's fun!"

The chocolate room, with the waterfall, should be a place of sheer color and total beauty. Not, I repeat, NOT a creepy thing that could be a megalomaniac's golf course. (Tim Burton's words, not mine.)

The inventing room should look FUN, not like a torture chamber.

The Oompa Loompas should be a SPECIES, not a pack of CLONES. (No offense to Deep Roy, I love him, but...he should've had Oompa Loompa buddies, not just played all of them.)

And why does everyone who makes a movie of Chocolate Factory feel it necessary to change the ending? What's wrong with the original ending? Why do you have to add on? It was iffy enough when the 70s film did it...but the 2005 ending was HORRIFIC, in my opinion.

What disappoints me the most about the movie is that it's GOOD. It really is. I love Tim Burton and I love his style. I loved Edward Scissorhands, I loved Beetle Juice, I loved Sleepy Hollow. To some degree I even loved Batman and Batman Returns, although Michael Keaton's Batman left quite a bit to be desired.

But see, in those cases, darkness WORKED. It was totally okay to drop the black-clad dark angel Edward into pastel suburbia - that was the POINT; he doesn't BELONG THERE. It was perfect to have that dull, monochromatic-but-with-blood-here-and-there thing in Sleepy Hollow; it completely fit the tone of the movie. It worked to have dark mixed with bright color in Beetle Juice, in fact, that was one of the best representations of the afterlife that I've ever seen.

And to be honest, if Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was a stand-alone movie, without a book behind it, I would absolutely love it.

And you know what? While it's true that Willy Wonka changed up things from the book (i.e., the Nut Room is now the Golden Goose room; the addition of the soda-powered train), at least they tried to keep true to the spirit of the book. And think of it this way, they didn't have the means to pull off a hundred superintelligent squirrels in 70s movies...or at least, not in a way that would look semi-realistic. Besides, the golden geese and the locomotive WERE funny, and it's not like they took away from the film in general.

The fact that it was a musical DID fit, in my opinion anyway (keep in mind that anyone who reads this is free to shake their heads at me and go, "Wow, that chick is NUTS!" at any time), and the music was good. Not GREAT, mind you, but GOOD.

So while I'm sure my fellow film majors will give me those "what-are-you-crazy?" looks, and my parents will wonder why the heck I'm taking up an entire blog post to talk about this, and my friends will be bored with the analytical film babbling, I'm going to announce, once and for all, that no matter how good Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is as a cinematic work of art, I love Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory because it so accurately captures the book that I fell in love with as a kid.

There...I said it. :P

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