Mel Stuart’s Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory approached the problem by focusing in on Charlie and telling a tale of integrity. Faced with the prospect of an opportunity to provide Slugsworth with information about the factory, Charlie proves his worth by returning the everlasting gobstopper to Wonka.

It’s a great approach. And virtually necessary to make a complete story out of Dahl’s book. In anticipation of Burton’s film, I could not fathom how Burton would address the issue without relying on Stuart’s film. As it turns out, Burton (and writer John August) solve the problem by shifting gears altogether. The main character is no longer Charlie, it’s Willy. By adding a back-story of Willy’s childhood and an afterward of his reconciliation with it, Burton manages to tell a rounded story in the midst of Dahl’s.

Wonka’s story of the relationship with his father is a good one, particularly insofar as its evolution is fueled, in part, by Charlie. But it’s hard not to see it simply as an attempt to make something out of Dahl’s story – which it is. Simply put, I think Mel Stuart’s story is the stronger one, though it could have been improved upon. Neither film focused on Dahl’s primary theme – the spoiling of children by their parents – which likely would have been the best route to take.

But Burton’s story is still a good one. In part, perhaps, because it allows for a more developed Wonka. Played with a perfect peculiarity by Johnny Depp, this Willy Wonka is socially inept with something of an aversion towards children. In ways strongly reminiscent of Edward Scissorhands, his encounter with children begins to trigger memories of his own difficult childhood, growing up with a strict father (Christopher Lee). After all is said and done, it is Charlie (Freddy Highmore) who has taught him the importance of family.

But while Burton’s take on the story is about family, it’s really about something else – the chocolate factory. Burton is at home creating the magical world of a candy maker. It’s strange, it’s fascinating, it’s fun to look at, and if we could reach through the screen, I’d bet it tastes good too.

And everything tastes like Tim Burton. His hand is perpetually evident as we go from Elfman’s score to Charlie’s Big Fish-like crooked house to a stark Batman-esque London. We never forget that Burton’s behind the scenes, but I think that’s a good thing. Particularly because Dahl’s book is a dark one, and no one conveys the simultaneous feeling an ominous threat and pure joyful innocence like Burton does. Burton’s strong faithfulness to the text is appropriate. In the end, I think Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is a weaker product than Stuart’s 1971 film, but it’s a better adaptation of Dahl’s book – which, I think, is exactly what Burton was aiming for.

By the way, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is the first time I've ever seen an MPAA warning that includes the phrase "quirky situations". That's a terribly fun phrase to have in your MPAA warning, and telling of the film, I think.

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