In his rapid rise to stardom, Timothée Chalamet has displayed little evidence of comic timing or singing ability. But now he has his chance and, well, playing a young Willy Wonka in the days before he was luring young gluttons with lolly scrambles, Chalamet is strictly okay when it comes to the song and dance and gag stuff.
But he looks the part. As he has proved in his side-gig as a fashion plate, he’s very good at wearing clothes. In Wonka, he’s a dreamboat in a dreamcoat, rocking the trademark purple velvet jacket and top hat in what’s essentially an origin story to the Gene Wilder Wonka of the 1971 film Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, the first feature to spring from Roald Dahl’s books.
Curiously for British director Paul King, who has given us two delightful Paddington movies, this marks a third film where his lead is a beloved book character identified by his hat and coat.
Chalamet looks better in his, but that CGI bear with the voice of Ben Whishaw is a better actor. Chalamet is slightly underwhelming in the lead, especially when it comes to his lightly reedy renditions of some less-than-memorable songs. But it’s not a bad movie and is mostly enjoyable, though this young Wonka is much less of a weirdo than the character he eventually becomes in that first film. Here, he’s more of a male trainee Mary Poppins armed with rather more than a spoonful of sugar.
There are traces of Dahl’s old acid – a character whose chocolate consumption makes him fat; an ugly, nasty, treacherous couple (played by Olivia Colman and Tom Davis), who resemble The Twits. It also has a single oompa loompa – a shrunken and amusing Hugh Grant, who you imagine will get his own spin-off should he survive the embarrassment of this.
This one winds the clock back to a story-book olden-day Europe, where a young Wonka, inspired by his mother (Sally Hawkins in flashback), has arrived in a city renowned for its chocolatiers wanting to be a disruptor. But a chocolate-stockpiling confectionery cartel, with the support of the local constabulary and the church (led by Rowan Atkinson notching up his 78th bumbling priest) won’t have any of it.
Soon, a destitute Wonka finds himself in indentured servitude in a laundry run by Colman and Davis. There, he meets plucky kid sidekick Noodle (Calah Lane), and others also in debt, who’d rather be joining the big song-and-dance numbers in the plazas outside than doing the ironing.
There’s an escape plan, early signs of the ingeniousness that will power the Chocolate Factory and a story that makes Wonka the wide-eyed innocent rather than Charlie. His character is given the handicap of illiteracy, which is an interesting choice for a character who owes his existence to a kids’ book. And one whose recipes – some ingredients include giraffe’s milk and the salty tears of a Russian clown – might need writing down.
But the reading lessons will have to wait for another film. If Chalamet wants to be Wilder’s Wonka when he grows up, he’s off to a decent start. Just a pity that for all the exotic flavours he expounds on throughout, the film around him is decidedly vanilla.
Rating out of 5: ★★★
Wonka directed by Paul King is in cinemas now.
