Hey folks, Harry here with Mikey Marker and his unveiling of some scrumdiddliumptious details from John August's script for the upcoming Tim Burton telling of Roald Dahl's CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY! There are spoilers for those that love them, and this is the warning for those that wish to avoid them. Having said that, this sounds absolutely wonderful. Nothing to worry those that adore Dahl's original book. Without further pomp, here we go...
Dear All,
I’m no inside source, just a lucky kid with a parent in the business. So with half-permission from Dad, a deep love for RoaldDahl, and a reinforced respect for John August, I’m writing my thoughts on his adaptation of Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
First let me say that there will be spoilers: The script is made of them. Too many details are twisted in with the plot and themes like the red in a candy cane—enriching and vital.
And before I go any further, let me assure any Dahl, Depp, Burton, Elfman, or Rouselott fans that you will be satisfied. I predict that this movie will be their ultimate playground.
Now my head is racing with all the twists that caught me up and had me reading back in the text or re-reading screenplay in disbelief. So, as a tribute to my poor writing skills, I’ll make it all into a list. Now to the spoiling:
• As with P.J. Hogan’s adaptation of Peter Pan, August keeps a firm focus on Dahl’s text and subtexts, not only highlighting key pieces of the story and characters, but reiterating Dahl’s vision with a brash inventiveness. August made the choice early on in the re-construction of this story to reset the locale from a Britishy, Oliver Twistian, Sixties game-show world into an amalgam of Hershey, PA and Detroit/Pittsburgh/Chicago/Suburbia. With Walgreen’s-esquestores selling Wonka Bars, and Charlie’s mom working overtime at the tennis shoe factory, August may be in critical danger of arrogantly over-Americanizing for shock value. I’m sure Mr. Dahl would be proud.
• Wonka’s Entrance: The classic cane fall of course. Until an old man in the crowd kills the fun. “Imposter” he screams. Wonka snaps the security guards on the oldster. The man fights off the guards monstrously to reach Wonka’spodium. Wonka raises his cane to strike the man, and the crowd gasps. The man produces a remote and freezesWonka with a click. The man rips off his face and VIOLA! it was Wonka all along. He rolls the putty face into a ball and bites off a piece like jerky. He clicks the remote and robot-Wonka bows. Another click has the security guards tossing tins of “Wonka’s Edible Face Putty” to the crowd.
• A small touch: The doors in the Bucket house and the Chocolate Factory never close entirely. In the house it is a human habit, in the factory it is a mechanical hiss halting all doors at 99% closure.
• August constantly reinforces Wonka as a sleight-of-hand artist: He’s constantly twisting flavor-towels (in honorarium to Douglas Adams, it seems) into all-purpose ropes, or snapping experimental candies between fingers and hands.
• Though modest with most visual descriptions, August has every sentence read like candy: “Show your hands and arms child, I want no secrets in this house”, “A distant dog barks, a different dog, dark, seductive”.
• The latter quote is from the boat ride, which deserves a writeup of its own: August’s sketch rings with elements ofFantasyLand (Mr. Toad’s especially), Luhrman, Burton, Phantom Toll Booth and Stepford Wives. I’ll spoil it no more.
• The Candy is innovative like a punky Steve Jobs: Edible FingerPaint/OmniPlaster (wild mountain frazzleberryflavored), tacto-flavor calligraphy marker-massager, vita-mints, Licorice Roads, Scented Blankets, 2-mile Radius’-worth of bio-flavor-nanomachines that make any tangible surface sanitary for the lick/bite/smell, Ice Cream Creatures, TactotasticInvisipaint (think Roger Rabbit plus Stargate), Chocolate Stationary (for love letters), etc. Of course, the Everlasting Gobstoppers, Chocolate Canals, Gumdrop Trees, and all the other classics play active roles in the story as well.
• August built Wonka as a sketch for Depp’s masterpiece: The dialogue leaves minutes of room for color and improv; meanwhile, the pulse of Wonka is that of a simple renaissance man: hyper-productive, flawed to insanity, loving enough to overpower his demons. Though a rarity, August takes descriptive liberty in drawing up Wonka’s office, “Racks of bottomless suits and T-shirts with hand-drawn slogans such as ‘Socialize’ or ‘Stationary’ line the walls and ceiling. A picture rests on a cherrywood desk. It shows Wonka looking pensive sitting alone on the captain’s seat of the ‘Chocolate Mountain Tootsie Log Ride’. Next to the picture is a half-monocle.”
• The Oompa Loompas: Wonka explains their history in a tone as eerie as Thomas Jefferson’s letter to Tom Hart, a fellow slave owner, in 1806, “The negro has been transplanted from the Deadly Jungle of Tibal Conflict and the demons of Disease and Famine, but has done so against his will. Some would say this is the white man’s benevolence. I say it is the way of things.” (Sorry about the tangent, I’m a Revolutionary nut.) The Oompa Loompa’sthemselves act with a gentleman’s loyalty to servitude ala Anthony Hopkins in The Remains of the Day. Occasionaly, though, August hints at a Gosford Park-ian bitter cynicism fueling their elusive work ethic. And while boldyemphasizing certain realities of the Oompa Loompas, August only describes them physically as “unintimidating”, leaving skin color, body size, and clothing to the visual team. And without those damn cute purple faces, I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t find an Oompa-sized knife in Grampa Joe’s back by page 125.
• Slugworth wears an eyepatch on the left and a diamond-plated glass eye on the right. ‘nuff said.
• The Kids: Veruca Salt echoes of Cruella Deville, Mike Teavee is a sickening charicature of Eastwood/Wayne/Culkin, Augustus Gloop is accidentally hilarious with every mispronounced word, Violete Beauregarde is every girl-next-door-turned-moviestar. Charlie is perfect.
• The Ultimate Spoiler, The Last Moment of the screenplay: August ends with a brilliant little play on words. And although it reads a bit preachy, I think it should leave the audience warm and reassured:
Highlight to read:
The elevator climbs up a hundred stories per second. Charlie’s chin lifts his eyes to
the stained-glass ceiling of the elevator, and the shaft above it. The impact with the roof is seconds away.
CHARLIE
I’ve never seen this tower before…
WONKA
Well you must never look up.
They all fly away.
-A loving work of fiction by Michael Marker-
