Willy Wonka (Timothée Chalamet) finally arrives at the Galeries Gourmet, a beautiful European mall, home to the premier shops and chocolatiers.  His dreams of opening his own shop are quickly dashed when the police remove him for selling from the side of the street, taking business away from the established store owners.  The city is hooked on his delicious chocolate, though, and with the help of some friends, they muster up the funds to get Wonka an official storefront to sell his candy by the law.  Even though the paperwork has been filed, Wonka and his crew discover a secret chocolate cartel that has the government under their influence and will stop at nothing to block out any new competition from the market, especially since their product is inferior to Wonka’s exotic creations. 

Paul King directs Wonka, a loose prequel to Mel Stuart’s Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory (1971).  Writing the script with Simon Farnaby, King helps deliver a lively musical for Warner Brothers based on the beloved character from Roald Dahl.  The 116-minute film forwent a festival run instead opting to premiere in London before embarking on its global run. 

Against the iconic legacy of Gene Wilder’s portrayal of the character, Chalamet had big shoes to fill with the added challenge of the sheer unnecessary nature of the prequel.  Add to that the singing and dancing required, Wonka may be one of the most challenging and daring roles to date for the young, eclectic performer.  While he is not necessarily bad in the role, it will not be one that he is favorably remembered for because he never quite shakes this feeling of discomfort in front of Chung-hoon Chung’s lens; a real surprise given his start in theatre.  Some of this is certainly due to the heavy use of ADR that disembodies many of the performances, but even when everything is synced up on screen, he is often mumbling his way through the lyrics and there is a look of hesitation during the dancing as if he is trying to recall the next steps.  Thankfully, though, in the drama of it all, Chalamet brings his usual pliability to the role which helps keep us invested and curious to see how he will navigate this comedy of manners and work his way out of the impossible situations he continually finds himself in by always seeing the good in people. 

The real charm of the film comes in the star-studded ensemble cast that were vying for the opportunity to work with King.  Mrs. Scrubbit (Olivia Colman) and Bleacher (Tom Davis), the two crotchety owners of the local launderette make for an affable pair of antagonists, and the two revel in the chance to play in this absurd world.  Then there are the three heads of the chocolate cartel, Slugworth (Paterson Joseph), Prodnose (Matt Lucas), and Fickelgruber (Mathew Baynton).  The three are perfectly synced and operate like a dopey Cerberus finishing each other’s sentences while stumbling over each other.  Keegan-Michael Key as the chief of police enjoys a running gag that finds the actor growing comically larger through the film as he accepts more and more chocolate in order to keep Wonka at bay and Rowan Atkinson as Father Julius has an equally fun time indulging in his delectable little sins. 

Wonka is not up against this large cast of detractors by himself.  He always has Noodle (Calah Lane), an orphan in the indentured employ of Scrubbit.  He also meets other poor people who fell victim to Scrubbit’s predatory practices – Abacus Crunch (Jim Carter), Lottie Bell (Rakhee Thakrar), Piper Benz (Natasha Rothwell), and Larry Chucklesworth (Rich Fulcher) – and they deliver one of the more popping and fun songs in the film as they introduce Wonka to the monotony he now faces as he works to pay off his debt in the launderette. Noodle is the ostensible second lead in the film, and Lane does very well holding her own against Chalamet in her first major feature role, but the film largely ignores the rest of his friends, possibly to keep the film more youth-focused, but it is to the story’s ultimate detriment to keep the supporting cast so far removed from the action especially given the major role they play in the final act.  King and Farnaby do better, and therefore the film does better, when working as an ensemble. Another example being the lively and memorable nature of the villain’s big song as they coax the chief of police to give into the cravings of his sweet tooth and help them squash out Wonka’s budding popularity as proof that it is the more personal scenes where the film falters.  Towards the middle of the film when Wonka and Noodle are in the zoo together, they share a poignant moment and really forge their friendship for the remainder of the film, but their song is ironically lacking some of the magic found in the larger and more complicated numbers. 

The other major stumbling block in the almost two-hour film is the final half hour.  The plot becomes so convoluted and the energy really stalls making it a thick slog to work through after a rather lighthearted and supringingly enjoyable first ninety.  While the lyric work leaves much to be desired, there is a charm that courses through the better half of the film as Wonka and Noodle face off against the litany of opposing forces in their quest to merely exist and they deal their chocolate away from the prying eyes of the police.  This final act, after Wonka rescues Noodle from the chicken coop in a sequence that is heavily modeled from the stylings of Wes Anderson, another Dahl devotee, is where King begins to really lose his grip on the story.  It is not that any element comes from left field, the workings are all supported by the narrative and what came before it, but the antagonist cast is so long that there are too many items to balance, and it all just feels like work. 

It is quick to write the concept of Wonka off as a soulless cash grab, another example of a studio returning to the well instead of funding new ideas, but it does stand well on its own and is rather far removed from the Stuart-helmed classic.  Elements of “Pure Imagination” are present in Joby Talbot’s score, and though Chalamet does end the film with a full rendition of the song, it is constructed in a way that does feel like it holds its predecessor in a place of reverence.  The other major connecting point of reference is in the character design of the Oompa-Loompa (Hugh Grant), with green hair and orange skin.  Grant is sleepwalking through the brief and poorly written role that was included out of necessity but really becomes more baggage for the film to contend with than anything else.  His presence allows for the film to include the “Oompa-Loompa Song” with a winking reference to its earworm quality, but even more so than Chalamet, Grant seems incredibly unsure of himself when the film asks him to sing and dance. 

Wonka will not be replacing the classic, and given how it is constructed and how the story was broken, that never seemed to be King’s goal here.  As a prequel, it is an odd story because it does not seem to really be leading towards Stuart’s rendering, either.  We see the factory in some of the final moments, but there is very little being laid in service to where we know this character will end up.  This brings us to the major question that all prequels and sequels run into, and while King should be commended for creating a largely original story, the studio should be shamed for not funding new properties.  As it stands, the film is enjoyable on its own and in its own right, but King feels like he is working with an executive looming over his shoulder, riddling the script and final cut of the film with 11th hour edits creating a confusing creative environment that unfortunately worms its way into the performances and handicaps what, against all odds, had the potential to be a really magical film.