Wonka

Director: Paul King
Starring: Timothée Chalamet, Calah Lane, Keegan-Michael Key, Paterson Joseph, Matt Lucas, Matthew Baynton, Sally Hawkins, Rowan Atkinson, Jim Carter, Natasha Rothwell, Olivia Colman, Hugh Grant, Rich Fulcher, Rakhee Thakrar, Tom Davis
Running Time: 116 min.
Rating: PG

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

As the latest cinematic take on Roald Dahl's legendary children's book, Wonka surprisingly represents a best case scenario for another go-around with the material. Now far more associated with Gene Wilder's performance in 1971's Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory than the novel itself, the actor's iconic turn would always be impossible to top. Johnny Depp took a stab at it, attempting something completely different in Tim Burton's 2005 reimagining, but still found himself in the shadow of an instantly recognizable, universally beloved work that's already ingrained into pop culture. 

The unexpected selection of Timothée Chalamet to play this role did little to quell fears of a bloated, miscast cash grab, causing even more groans and skepticism than you'd anticipate ahead of Paul King's musical fantasy prequel. But the involvement of Paddington's imaginative director at least signaled the chance this could amount to more. And as it turns out, King and co-writer Simon Farnaby deliver, concocting an origin story that does justice to its predecessor's spirit, while still straying from the source in inspired ways.

Upon arriving in Europe, eccentric inventor and magician Willy Wonka (Chalamet) dreams of honoring his late mother (Sally Hawkins) by opening a chocolate shop at The Galéries Gourmet, home to the world's best confectioneries. But after quickly burning through his savings, a homeless Wonka is persuaded by oafish henchman Bleacher (Tom Davis) to stay at Mrs. Scrubitt's (Olivia Colman) boarding house, unwittingly signing a contract full of expensive hidden fees. Trapped in her basement laundry working off his debt, he meets five other "employees," including young orphan Noodle (Calah Lane) with whom he shares his chocolate making secrets. 

Planning his escape, Wonka must contend with rival shop owners Slugworth (Paterson Joseph), Prodnose (Matt Lucas) and Fickelgruber (Matthew Baynton) who bribe the corrupt, chocolate addicted Police Chief (Keegan-Michael Key) into running him out of town. As Wonka and Noodle attempt to expose this conspiracy, he also faces off with a determined Oompa Loompa named Lofty (Hugh Grant) who's been stealing his sweets to settle a past score. With Wonka's chances of achieving his lifelong dream slipping away, he'll need to get creative, enlisting the help of some new friends.

This opens with a show stopping musical number that establishes Wonka's situation in only a few minutes, successfully grabbing those who may know nothing of the character at all. But it doesn't rely on previous films or even the book, instead using both as a jumping off point to explore what the early incarnation of this wacky inventor could have been. This helps set the tone, with King striking a strong balance between story and song, knowing exactly how to present these sequences so they don't feel forced or shoehorned in. 

Infusing young Wonka with a wry, off-putting sense of humor, Chalamet gives us a sense of how unlucky beginnings inform the aspiring entrepreneur's instincts. Determined, but not completely sure of himself, he's in need of some aid and motivation while stumbling into enemy territory, sabotaged at every turn by the hilariously crooked chocolate cartel. 

In a story driven as much by over-the-top villains as its protagonist's heroics, Olivia Colman hams it up as the nefarious Mrs. Scrubitt, whose long suffering laundry workers are at least afforded the luxury of a catchy theme song. As her nasty hotel owner gives off vibes of Annie's Miss Hannigan, Paterson Joseph's conniving ringleader Slugworth makes for the most memorable of the three chocolatiers, with Keegan-Michael Key also stealing scenes as the bumbling, overeating lawman. 

Much of what works can be attributed to the pairing of Chalamet with Calah Lane as the orphan Noodle. Lane's just a total natural in the role and the writers are clever enough to give the character a purpose beyond merely serving as Wonka's junior sidekick. You get the impression he needs her more, with their joint efforts culminating in an elaborate, cleverly choreographed last act heist that's heartfelt and funny. It also feels right on brand, as does the casting of Hugh Grant as an Oompa Loompa, which isn't something anyone knew they needed until seeing it. He definitely doesn't disappoint, playing little orange Lofty as condescendingly as you'd hope.

It's really hard to nail a musical, much less one with an established lineage, but this has a distinctive visual flair and solid pacing that lends well to the format, harkening back to the genre's glory days. Better still, Nathan Crowley's production design is top notch and the plot makes sense, making it easy to care for the humorous heroes and dastardly scoundrels populating King's fantastical world.  

While Wonka lacks the darker, creepier undertones of the previous two films, it adds just the right dose of mischievous cynicism, abiding by the franchise's unwritten rule that things should be a little weird, keeping with the story's spirit. But the biggest shock might be Chalamet, who's delightful in a part most wouldn't think he'd have any business in, emanating just the right mix of innocence and lunacy. Knowing it's a fool's errand attempting to channel Wilder, he instead lays a believable foundation for what we know comes next, bolstering an already enjoyable companion piece to the classic film.                   

The Father

Director: Florian Zeller
Starring: Anthony Hopkins, Olivia Colman, Rufus Sewell, Imogen Poots, Olivia Williams, Mark Gatiss
Running Time: 97 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Florian Zeller's The Father employs a brilliant narrative device in conveying the anguish and confusion that accompanies dementia, its entire stucture functioning as a full reflection of its themes and suffering protagonist's state of mind. Placing us inside the shoes of a man who's mentally and physically fading  by the minute is a big risk, but it proves to be brutally eye-opening in showing the impact of a disease that still very much carries stigmas and preconceived notions. That's it's almost unbearably difficult to watch is exactly the point, especially considering our disorientation from seeing this pales in comparison to the pain of those who have actually suffered from it.

Adapted from Zeller's own 2012 play, Le Père, it creates a self-contained world where time ceases to exist, events bleed into each other, and faces and names change. You wouldn't be blamed for assuming that's a description for a sci-fi story story rather than tragic reality, as most commericals and trailers haven't done it justice, selling the project as a Merchant Ivory-type production focusing on elder care. But in downplaying its chief conceit from ususpecting moviegoers, it's only all the more impactful when the pieces start coming together. And that's a courtesy never entirely extended to the main character, whose saddest, most devastating scenes arrive in fleeting moments of recognition, where he "knows" something's wrong, if not necessarily what. 

In a career of full of legendary performances, a good case can be made that this is Anthony Hopkins' best, finding inventive avenues to practically normalize the most abnormal behavior, actions and observations. While extremely uncomfortable to watch, this only seems to make its viewing that much more essential. Given all the attention paid over the past few year to films tackling important social issues, it would be a crime if this somehow managed to fall through the cracks.  

Anthony (Hopkins) is sufferering from memory loss and dementia, constantly misplacing items, failing to recall key names and events, or even recognize the most familiar faces in his life. When daughter Anne (Olivia Colman) visits him in his London flat and announces she's planning to move to Paris with her new boyfriend, Anthony's rattled. Confused as to who this person is and worried how Anne's impending absence could affect his routine, he becomes increasingly belligerent, digging his heels in and proclaiming he's not going anywhere, most especially a care facility. Having already gone through numerous nurses, the latest whom he accused of stealing his watch, a new caretaker named Laura (Imogen Poots) arrives, baring an uncanny resemblance to his late daughter, Lucy. 

Radiating wide-eyed optimism and a strong desire to help, Lucy's won over by Anthony's humor and charm, blissfully unaware that it won't be long before she's on the receiving end of his verbal abuse, however unintentional. While adamently denying he's suffering a cognitive decline, inexplicable occurances and the presence of an unknown man (Mark Gatniss) and woman (Olivia Williams) only further disorient Anthony. 

With Anthony rapidly losing his grasp on reality, Anne is pressured by her increasingly intolerant boyfriend, Paul (Rufus Sewell) to institutionalize him. Seemingly surrounded by so many, her father couldn't be more alone, with the disease's progression continuing to take its toll, completely isolating him in ways that seem almost unimaginable given the care and attention he receives. Through no fault of his own, none of it will be enough.

Every event that happens from the opening credits right through the final scene should be taken with a grain of salt. Under normal circumstances, this could be seen as a creative fault or labeled as manipulative by some. But it isn't long before you gradually catch on to what first-time feature director Zeller and co-writer Christopher Hampton are up to and how accurately this non-linear, zig-zag style structure reflects Anthony's plight, allowing us to see this fragmented world through his eyes. 

Regardless of how true it is, Anthony views his daughter's flat as his property, initially coming off as a cranky codger who would scream at kids to get off his lawn if he had one. Of course, that's the disease talking, making it impossible to form any concrete determination about his actual personality. With dementia fully taking hold, he can be an intolerable grump one moment, before coming off as a completely kind and engaging old soul the next, almost as if nothing's wrong. But it is, and Hopkins expertly flips that switch, giving us fletting glimpses of who he was before his faculties left him. 

As one of our great living actors, it's hard to call any Hopkins performance underappreciated but what he does here is remarkable, appearing to almost play entirely different characters throughout, gradually appearing more dissheveled and tweaking his speech patterns and movements according to how far along the illness has progressed. Ironically, the most apt comparision just might be his work in 1995's Nixon, where with the sheer force of his presence he seemed to physically will himsel into becoming the disgraced 37th President despite baring very little resemblance to the actual man.   

At various points, viewers will ask themselves why Anthony hasn't been put in a home already, wondering how much longer this man or those caring for him can possibly continue like this. That is until realizing we have no idea of measuring how much time has passed over the course of the film's running length. It could be a month, a year or even possibly longer. For all we know it could only be hours, but the screenplay doesn't ignore how it feels like decades for Anne or any of the aids who look after him. The strain on them isn't lost, and in one especially powerful dream sequence, she envisions a particularly cruel solution to the "problem," as if it isn't harsh enough describing him with that word. And yet Colman's performance is still so empathetic it's hard to judge the character or imagine anyone wouldn't also hate themselves for feeling the same way.

Anne's approach differs greatly from that of her boyfriend Paul's, which is viciously intolerant, highlighting the issue of elder abuse in its worst possible manifestation. But even here it's important to tread carefully when detailing events since we can't be sure they're happening exactly how they appear on screen. Like Anthony, the viewer is overcome with feelings of mistrust, disbelieving everyone and everything that's seen, until that frustration begins to turn to self-doubt. And despite being based on an acclaimed play and largely taking place within a single setting, most of what surrounds Anthony is constantly changing, sometimes in barely noticeable ways that challenge the audience to pay attention to even the smallest details within the apartment flat. This makes an emotionally triggering experience surprisingly ripe for repeated viewings in order to pick up on what was likely missed during an initial watch.  

Even when we're not completely sure what's happening, Hopkins ensures all the physical and mental signposts of Anthony's deterioration are present. Sometimes it's subtle, while at others it isn't, gradually worsening until it culminates in an ending that might be the most uncomfortable we've seen in years, with his entire state of mind regressing into childlike infancy. In personalizing the trauma by throwing viewers in headfirst, we're forced to confront the harsh truth of a rapidly vanishing mind. It would be flippant to call The Father an unforgettable experience since this material so painfully demonstrates that there's no such thing. Instead, it shows us that any memories, including those taking place over the course of this film, shouldn't be so easily taken for granted.

Burning Questions from the 2019 Oscars

Is it strange that after watching Bohemian Rhapsody, a "real" Queen performance felt somewhat disappointing?

Can it be a "real" Queen performance with a certain member missing?

Doesn't Adam Lambert have some big shoes to fill?

Was it intentional that the stage look like Donald Trump's hair?

After the first montage, were you worried that that's how they'd fill time without a host?

Were you relieved when Tina Fey, Amy Poehler and Maya Rudolph came out?

Did everyone breath a sigh of Oscar pool relief when Regina King won?

Does it make you (me) feel old that Regina King is now playing a grandmother?

Now that she has an Oscar, do you think she even cares?

Already keeping the censors busy on the second award?

Tom Morello introducing Vice?

Were you thinking Black Panther upsetting in Costume Design an omen for things to come?

Did that feeling double when it won production design?

Surprisingly, are you starting to feel the absence of a host?

But isn't the show moving along for a change?

Isn't that RBG song kind of awful?

Aren't all of Diane Warren's nominated songs?

Serena Williams?

Can we to assume the Academy didn't see last year's U.S. Open Final before inviting her?

Aren't you glad we weren't lectured again on the differences between Sound Editing and Sound Mixing?

8 awards given within the first hour?

This has to be some kind of record, right?

Aren't you just waiting for the show to suddenly come to a screeching halt and drag so it can end after midnight?

Should we start considering now whether Roma winning for Best Foreign Language Film helps or hurt its Best Picture chances?

Does Michael Keaton presenting remind me how he should have won for both Birdman and at least been nominated for The Founder?

Why did I let anyone talk me into to picking Vice for Editing?

How awesome was it that Laura Dern came out to the Jurassic Park theme?

Other than Bohemian Rhapsody, is Spider-Verse the 2018 film that most exceeded expectations?

Isn't that Buster Scruggs song, um, different?

Is it some kind of cruel joke that my power went out before Brie Larson presented?

Is it another cruel joke that Sam Jackson had to present the Original Screenplay Oscar to Green Book?

Didn't he look thrilled when it won?

Is Spike Lee ever going to win an Oscar?

Did they turn that f****ing clock on?

So, was that Gaga/Cooper performance any good?

Was it yet another cruel joke that my power came back in time for the In Memoriam montage?

I didn't miss Mike Myers and Dana Carvey...did I?

Was that the most subdued In Memoriam segment they've ever had?

Isn't that how it should be?

Did you see everyone fly out of their seats when Rami Malek name was read?

Do they like that guy or what?

Doesn't this feel like as much a win for Freddie Mercury as it does for Malek?

Isn't that proof that the right person won?

Think USA is kicking themselves for not ordering more seasons of Mr. Robot right about now?

Shouldn't Rami be glad they didn't?

Olivia Colman???!!!

Would anyone begrudge Glenn Close for being completely devastated?

Was she half out of her seat, paper in hand?

Do I look like a fool now for saying Close had her Career Achievement Oscar all locked up?

Doesn't everyone?

Did this just single-handedly ruin everyone's chances for a sweep in the Oscar Pool?

Honestly, wasn't it ruined way before that?

Best Director, already?

ABC has to be pleased with this abbreviated show, right?

Are you thinking "We'll see when the ratings come in?"

Didn't it just feel like there would be a Best Picture upset before the winner was even read?

Green Book??!!!

Why does it suddenly seem like we've taken a time machine back to 1989?

Do you think Spike Lee threw a tantrum?

If anyone's throwing a fit, shouldn't it be Glenn Close?

Have I ever done this poorly on my predictions?

Does this mean we're in for our annual conversation about overhauling the Academy...again?

Was the show really that short or did it just seem that way because I lost power halfway through?

Does this mean we'll actually get some sleep?

Can this host come back next year?