Let’s set the scene. It’s late at night, well past midnight as far as I can recall, and I’m curled up in my friend Tom’s blanket with my other friend Kendal at my side, watching Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. What led me to this decision isn’t entirely clear- we as a trio started off the night blowing off a party, weeping to The Office’s finale despite my having seen it already, and then here we were, three sleep-deprived teenagers, crammed into a twin bed warbling along to Pure Imagination, and realizing that this movie is fucking terrifying. The stuff of nightmares, really. My childhood self must have repressed the horror of it all in favor of edible toadstools and chocolate rivers. 

Upon googling “Willy Wonka is. . .” the first three results that come up are “a child murderer,” “terrifying,” and “a wizard.” There are even entire academic papers written about him, titled things like “The Schizotypy of Willy Wonka.” Hoards of listicles count the most horrifying moments of the film. Fans speculate that Wonka lured children to his factory with the intent of killing them in some strange Saw-like scenario. This is obviously a hotly debated topic with no clear answer, one that will keep me up night after night until I can reach the answer. I feel like Charlie from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, smoking cigarette after cigarette, connecting red strings to papers on his crime board, hoping to answer the questions: “Is Willy Wonka a Psychopath?” 

In this analysis, I attempt to discover who Wonka is, and his true motives for bringing an assortment of children to his factory – and it’s not just for a contest to win a lifetime of free chocolate. 

Wonka is smart. He doesn’t reveal his dastardly ways right away. He positions himself as a normal member of society, if not a bit odd. His entrance is the first glimpse into his madness: he walks slowly and deliberately, limping like an old man on his last legs, and ever-so-slowly, tips forward. The crowd is shocked. Terrified. Someone help Wonka! they must be screaming internally. And then, this smug man ducks into a roll as if he’d been planning this for years. He probably had been. Just look at him. 

Then, once the children and their chaperones are “safely” inside Wonka’s factory, Wonka’s madness is set loose. They’re in his territory now. This doesn’t even need to be said, but he exhibits a morbid disregard for the children’s lives. Augustus is the first victim, who is sucked up into the Fudge Room to an uncertain fate for trying to drink from the chocolate river. After Augustus’s demise, Wonka ushers his other victims into an elaborately designed boat – which has, I may add, just enough seats for the children and their chaperones minus Augustus. Augustus’s demise was in Wonka’s plan all along. 

The Boat Scene. That horrible, dastardly scene I watched far too late at night. His victims scream as they’re brought into a dark tunnel by the boat, while Wonka rhythmically yells “faster, faster!” Bright, strobing colors and images flash up on the screen, visible to the characters in the tunnel. A bug crawling along a man’s face. Someone’s eye. A chicken getting its head cut off. Slugworth, the supposed villain of the movie. And Wonka’s eerie song, his screams getting louder and louder as disgusting scenes show behind him. A few lyrics stick out in particular: 

“Are the fires of Hell a-glowing

Is the grisly reaper mowing

Yes, the danger must be growing

For the rowers keep on rowing”

In this song, Wonka is alluding to his factory being Hell, of which he is the gatekeeper. Using this metaphor, the boat ride is representative of crossing the River Styx into the underworld.

The Oompa Loompas act as Wonka’s reapers, bringing these young sinners to justice. 

This is who Wonka truly believes he is: Harbinger of Justice. Purger of Sin. 

Augustus obviously represents Gluttony, being whisked away by the source of his sin. Violet is tempted by gum, fueled by the pride of her achievements as a professional gum-chewer, and subsequently turns into a blueberry. Veruca represents Greed with her need for more, which is established through a song before she’s eliminated. 

Another scene of note is the elimination of Mike Teevee, representation of Sloth with his addictive television watching. Wonka does absolutely nothing to deter the boy from making himself small, only half-heartedly murmuring “Stop. Don’t. Come back.” Why would he stop these kids from being brought to justice? This has been set up from the beginning, with the intention of Charlie winning the factory. Wonka said so himself!

Charlie initially didn’t win the factory with his slip-up by sneaking off with Grandpa Joe to try Wonka’s soda. He did, however, become redeemed by offering Wonka the Gobstopper that the man gave him earlier on in the film instead of turning it over to Wonka’s “enemy”, who turned out to be a part of the candy man’s plan all along. While Charlie initially wronged Wonka, he wasn’t a representation of sin, which is purely why Wonka chose him. Charlie is not just entrusted to the factory, but seen as a beacon of virtue in a world of sin.

But Wonka is no harbinger of justice. He’s just a man with a skewed ideology who wanted to take matters into his own hands, and now, Charlie is destined for the role. 

Author

  • danitamapes

    Aspiring investigative journalist and activist for sexual assault and disabled rights. Lover of birds and all things witchy.

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