Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

The things you learn when you do an Internet search—like that Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, Mel Stuart’s 1971 classic, was financed by Quaker Oats to promote a new chocolate bar. Hey, come to think of it, I remember those Wonka Bars (and Gobstoppers, and probably a few others) from my 1970s childhood, and now I realize it was all part of a brilliant marketing scheme.

Well, I won’t let that diminish my happy memories of this film, which I recently revisited with George, Pearl and our seven-year-old friend Elliott. Forty years old this year, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory still stirs the imagination and is every bit as weird and wonderful as I remembered it. Based on Roald Dahl’s novel Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, the film delves into some of the darker aspects of human nature, but is buoyed by energetic musical numbers and the clever and nuanced comedy of Gene Wilder as Willy Wonka.

A refresher on the plot: A good-natured boy named Charlie Bucket works to support his family, which includes four bedridden grandparents. When mysterious candy-maker Willy Wonka offers to admit five lucky people inside his factory, Charlie, like every child on the planet, becomes preoccupied with finding one of the “golden tickets” tucked inside a Wonka Bar. With hardly a penny to spare on chocolates, however, his odds seem slim.

Night after night, the TV news reports as the tickets are found, introducing a fantastic cast of despicable child characters: the gluttonous Augustus Gloop, the gum-smacking Violet Beauregarde, the screen-obsessed Mike Teavee, and the icon of rich, spoiled brattiness: Veruca Salt.

After a few suspenseful twists, Charlie finds the last golden ticket and runs home to show his family. On the way, an evil-looking man named Slugworth stops Charlie and promises to make him rich if he will bring him one of Wonka’s Everlasting Gobstoppers. At home, Grandpa Joe miraculously gets out of bed and agrees to join Charlie for the factory tour.

In addition to a prized look behind the scenes, Wonka offers the children a lifetime supply of chocolate, IF they abide by his rules during the tour. As the film progresses, each child meets his or her demise, as their true and terrible natures betray them. Even the lovable Charlie gives in to temptation at one point—but if rule-breaking and deception are inherent to the human existence, the film suggests that better intentions can sometimes rise above, and honesty can lead to redemption.

So, how did the kids like Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory? On the whole, they loved it. They were appropriately aghast at the behaviors of the “bad” children, which generated lots of comments, and they easily identified with Charlie, who has to be one of the most sympathetic characters in the history of film. Their favorite part of the movie was clearly the magical moment when the tour arrives at the factory’s interior, with its chocolate stream and everything edible and made of candy. A child’s dream come true!

However, there were a couple of scenes which made me realize this film is not ideal for very young viewers. One of these is the boat ride into the depths of the factory. As Wonka’s boat catapults through a tunnel, disturbing images pop up on the walls: a chicken getting its head cut off, a huge centipede crawling over a man’s face, and the like, as Gene Wilder sings a creepy song. Looking at this scene in light of current moviemaking, the effects seem endearingly clunky, and yet it still packs a punch for young viewers. All three had wide eyes, and three-year-old George ran from the room, thankfully missing most of this scene. I remember doing the same thing! So, if young kids are watching, a fast-forward is advised.

Also, watching each of the misbehaving kids get their comeuppance may be troubling, most notably Augustus Gloop disappearing into the chocolate river and being suctioned up into a tube. The film makes it clear that each kid is unharmed in the end, but still. The kids talked about the tube scene for a few days after.

My overall take: This was a fun film for me in terms of nostalgia and the kids enjoyed it, but I think it is probably more geared to slightly older kids. The site Common Sense Media recommends it for kids age eight and above, and that sounds about right to me too. We will definitely watch it again, but will probably wait a couple of years.

The Red Balloon

Undeniably, The Red Balloon (Le Ballon Rouge) belongs to the canon of classic children’s cinema. Released in 1956 by director Albert Lamorisse, this half-hour film tells the story of a young boy (Lamorisse’s own son Pascal) and his unusual friendship with a red balloon that follows him through the streets of Paris. The only short film ever to win an Oscar for best original screenplay, The Red Balloon has been enjoyed by generations. I saw it as a child and was excited to share what I remember as a magical story with my own kids.

True to my memory, the film is magical. George and Pearl were quickly enchanted by the puppy-like antics of the balloon as it traipsed after young Pascal, following him home and later to school. There is virtually no dialogue, making it a very accessible international film.

Told through images, the storyline is both sweet and emotionally wrenching. Much as in Lamorisse’s White Mane, the child protagonist in The Red Balloon is portrayed as lonely and persecuted. The only image of his home life is of an angry mother casting his balloon out the window. Fortunately for Pascal, his balloon obediently waits outside for him. The scenes of his school show a cruel principal who locks Pascal up in a closet all day for bringing his balloon (it causes a distraction for the other children).

But by far the worst he must endure is a marauding pack of feral schoolboys who chase Pascal through the city’s mazelike streets and passageways, trying to destroy his balloon with rocks. In the end, they succeed in separating Pascal from the balloon and one boy hits the target with a slingshot. Slowly the balloon deflates and dies. These scenes were disturbing to all of us, but especially to three-year-old George—something parents of young kids may want to consider.

As sad as the balloon’s passing may seem, the film deals with issues that all kids face. Balloons pop, and throughout life, loss happens—both big and small. Sometimes we feel lonely and like no one is on our side. But I contend that the greatest works of children’s film and literature deal with these themes, as difficult as they are. The final scenes of the film are ultimately redeeming: Balloons from all over the city take flight and come to Pascal’s aid. The film’s last shot is truly uplifting, and I’ll leave it at that.

While dealing with some of life’s big themes, The Red Balloon’s premise is relatively simple, as are the special effects—a surprisingly believable simulation in which the balloon really does seem to move of its own accord. We had some discussion of how the filmmaker might have pulled this off (unseen wires?)—which made me realize that in more modern films where special effects are much more technical, we don’t often talk about how the film was made. Perhaps because I don’t even know! I liked this aspect of The Red Balloon, and it made me think about how we might someday try to make our own film with homemade special effects.

Visually, the film is stunning. The contrast of the bright red balloon and the gritty urban backdrop reflects Lamorisse’s cinematic prowess.  The film also provides a fascinating documentation of mid-Century Parisian street life and an impoverished neighborhood of Ménilmontant that was mostly demolished in the decades following.

Want to watch it? The Red Balloon is available for purchase as part of the Criterion Collection. We checked it out from our local library.