Willy Wonka defying conventional story wisdom
Monday, October 10, 2011 at 6:00AMI have recently rediscovered the joy of a long lost cinematic friend. Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory was a film that stood as an indomitable part of my childhood and right through my teenage years (where watched it as ritual on late Saturday nights as after-party come-down) Unlike so many childhood films it is one for which my appreciation only grew the older I got and the more sophisticated my tastes became.
As a kid it was wide-eyed wonder at a chocolate river combined with uncomfortable fear and apprehension at Oompa Loompas. As I grew up emotional instincts gave way to more complex understandings - most notably the dexterity and genius of Gene Wilders performance. The scope of his dramatic intelligence is evident when he gave an ultimatum to the producers that he would only take the part if he could re-write his entrance so that he comes in limping, trips, does a forward role and jumps up. “No one after that will no if I’m lying or telling the truth” and the genius of its simplicity is in the cementing of doubt.
Children’s films with such emotional sophistication and character complexity are rare - glorious exploits of Pixar aside. Yet even Pixar dare not be so challenging as to craft onto screen such sublimely beautiful yet terrifying moments as the river boat tunnel.
Or Willy Wonker’s outburst of contempt at the greed of the children.
Watching Willy Wonka on high rotation (as one does when you have a young child) I find myself now reflecting on the narrative structure of Willy Wonka and have been surprised by what I have found in it’s unusual and seemingly contradictory story-telling mode.
It would be either a mistake or an artificial imposition to see Willy Wonka adhering to popular conventional wisdom around feature film narrative. There is hardly a definitive Hero’s journey and scant presence of the milestones of a traditional Structure in Willy Wonker and the Chocolate Factory. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m the last to suggest that all films do or should follow such narrative conventions. The famed Hero’s Journey Monomyth is ultimately ‘A’ structure, not ‘THE’ structure. Yet, at the same time only a fool or an ignoramus would dismiss or ignore the power and deep mythological history of the Hero’s journey which is so rooted in western narrative tradition. When so very many films, over such a long time, that have moved and engaged the world, have been predicated on such structure and journey it becomes a very interesting question to see how films that dont fit the paradigm work and succeed none the less.
In this regard Wonka is an interesting case study. If we start with the premise that Willy Wonka is indeed a good film - one that is engaging, satisfying and emotionally moving - then recognizing what is missing or absent from it as a film compared to the established ideas around feature film structures is very telling.
Charlie is clearly our hero protagonist and there is no doubt that he is on a journey - a journey that breaks his ordinary world and casts him into, as Campbell and Vogler refer, the ’ special world’. Yet as a protagonist Charlie would seem to be missing the key elements that we often use to define a hero on a journey - Charlie is Not flawed nor does he undergo a Transformation. His circumstances change tangibly from poverty to wealth but there is virtually no inner journey for Charlie at all. Charlie is a very good kid in a shitty situation of poverty but he has no discernible moral, ethical or personal flaw and we are not watching a film of growth or psychological change - he’s a good, honest self-less kid at the beginning and remains so at the end. In truth we actually don’t watch to see Charlie change - rather we watch for the opposite reason, we watch to see IF he will change, IF he will give into temptation to change. This may seem simple but it is, rather surprisingly, unusual in feature film narrative. The film fits a broad notion of an ‘underdog’ film, yet such films (Rocky springs to mind) also very often hinge on a journey of self-recognition, overcoming doubt, a character finding faith in themself when they otherwise had none. Again, there really is none of this in WWATCF for our central character. Indeed, even calling Charlie a protagonist based on the concept of Wants, Needs and Obstacles is problematic.
In the first half of the film we are introduced to Charlie’s state of poverty and his generous and self-less nature in caring for his family. And then this ‘ordinary world’ is broken by the announcement that the Wonka factory will reopen for the winners of the golden tickets. In a traditional structure this might be seen as the call to adventure - and certainly Charlie is compelled to want to try his luck at winning a ticket to the Wonka factory. Yet the two chocolate bars Charlie gets are both given to him as presents - despite his desire he is entirely passive in pursuing it. It’s only when all hope of winning a ticket is lost and Charlie accidentally finds some money that his fortunes change and his real journey begins - and this is half way through the film…!
In, so called, classical Hollywood style storytelling (a form that is neither classical nor specific to Hollywood but which none the less permeates the dominant discourse) such structures are often described as an inciting incident via Spark and Boom. A initial event triggers an action (Spark) and that subsequently leads to a breaking of the status quo for the character (Boom) - an instance that breaks the ordinary world and casts the protagonist into the special world. On the surface the spark and boom of WWATCF is first, the announent of the golden tickets (spark) and second, Charlie unexpectedly winning the last ticket (boom). Yet instead of this being the first 1/4 of the film it constitutes virtually half the film.
Within this we also have Charlie as an overtly passive protagonist and this too would seem to be an anathema to convectional feature film narrative orthodoxy. If the announcement of the golden tickets is the call to action for the character then it doesn’t really work on Charlie. Charlie takes no steps to achieve that goal of winning a golden ticket. Both chocolate bars he eats are given to him by others, he doesn’t have to peruse, chase or find them at all. However, despite what conventional wisdom would tell us, this is far from uncompelling. The film deftly traps the audience between wanting Charlie to hold onto hope that he will win a ticket when Charlie himself holds little of that hope.
More interesting is the construction of Charlie’s golden ticket find. It comes after perceived hope has been lost. Only when all the golden tickets have been found does Charlie find some money in the street and buys himself a chocolate bar. Crucially, the first bar he buys for himself does not win. Only when he goes back for a second, not for himself but as a gift for his Grandpa Joe, does Charlie find the real last ticket. And this goes to the core conceptual and metaphoric heart of the film and the reason we are compelled to watch even though the film has no transformative journey and no active protagonist. Charlie ultimately gets his wish by being self-less rather than selfish. This is the test Willy Wonker puts the children through - the reason to watch is the dramatic question of ‘will Charlie be able to hold onto his good, self-less nature?’. Thus we have a story not predicated on transformation of character, but rather quite the opposite - we watch in hope that he wont change.
We can also apply this same anti conventional element to Wonka himself, who also does not undertake a transformation. He does reveal his true self in the surprise that the whole Golden Ticket thing was a test to find a worthy child to inherit his factory, buy this is not on any way a character journey, just a revelation.
This is interesting in comparison to the Tim Burton remake. Whilst Burton has certainly proven himself an excellent filmmaker over many years (and Johnny Depp is one of the great actors of all time) his Chocolate Factory remake is a firm disappointment. We could blame the disturbingly distorted portrayal of Wonka, we could blame a lack of subtlety in the design and direction, but I think the real culprit that leaves the earlier film far superior, is poor choices in story structure. In particular the seeming desire to solve problems in the Wonka story that I would argue don’t actually exist.
To be more specific - Tim Burton adds a large dimension to the story that was not in either the book or the original film - he manufactures a character journey for Willy Wonka. The construction generates a dentist father whom Wonka is estranged from and to whom his journey will see him reconcile. On the surface it’s a nice idea - the son of a Dentist who was always denied sweets grows up to be the worlds greates candy maker. And structurally we can see what Burton is trying to do, he’s trying to solve the problem that Wonka doesn’t have a character arch. Trying to give Wonka a journey.
But I would argue Burtons film is trying to solve a problem that actually does not need solving and in doing so has created a distraction and a redundancy. The original film builds it’s engagement by dramatizing temptation - temptation that may turn a good kid bad. And it pits this against Wonka, a strange and melancholy man whose true nature is hidden and is able to be revealed when he at last finds an honest child.
In misguidedly believing the story lacked something and had a hole that needed to be filled, Burton has, to my mind, misunderstood what was so great about the original story. I find myself wondering if it was a strange allegiance to prevailing wisdom rather than an open observance of what actually worked, that lead Burton add these unnecessary distractions? Much like taking a piece of architecture or design that is elegant and simple and believing it will be better by bolting more complex extensions.
Reader Comments (1)
I guess it's subjective but I prefer stories where the main character is overcoming obstacles to reach his ultimate goal. He may or may not have a character arc, although I enjoy it more when there is.
I imagine you're familiar with Dramatica. They talk about the main character having a 'resolve' attribute of being either 'change' or 'steadfast'. A change character will have an arc but a steadfast will not. Here's a link to some info on Dramatica: http://www.dramatica.com/theory/essential_questions/twelve.html
I'd be interested in your take on Dramatica. I've not found it that useful in writing but helpful in making sure my story covers all the bases once written.