Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka,
the amazing chocolatier.
Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka,
everybody give a cheer!
He’s modest, clever, and so smart,
he really can’t restrain it.
With so much generosity,
there is no way to contain it.

Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka,
he’s the one that you’re about to meet.
Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka,
he’s the genius who just can’t be beat.
A magician and a chocolate whiz,
he’s the best darn guy who ever lived,
Willy Wonka, here he is!

I enjoy the experience of going to the cinema.  We tend to go late on Wednesday evenings, on two counts.  Firstly, The Blokey is with Orange and so we get two tickets for the price of one.  And secondly, at around 9.30 in the pm there aren’t that many people wanting to see a film.  This usually results in us either having the cinema to ourselves or being surrounded by very few people in a mainly empty cinema.  This suits me tremendously because if I hear even a murmur, see just a glimpse of a mobile phone or have to listen to the people in front/behind crunching their way through crunchy things [whose idea was it to sell crunchy things that crunch at the cinema?] then I get extremely angsty and almost panic.  I did once turn around and tell the people behind me that I had come to watch the film not listen to them nattering away in loud voices.  Cabin Fever I think it was.  It was my proudest moment.


Last night the 9.30 in the pm showing was absolutely packed.  But no kids in sight.  And everybody was silent [apart from when they laughed].  Phew!  I had my reservations about seeing Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.  I love the sixties version.  I adore Gene Wilder as Willy.  He fits the bill perfectly, bless him.  I had nothing to worry about.  The film is so much darker, and subsequently so different, that it’s like watching a different story unfold in front of you. 

And couldn’t you just pick up the Oompa-Loompa and smother him in passion and fun? 

My only problem with the film was being unable to reconcile the English accents of most of the cast with the American terminology they spoke [candy instead of sweets, band-aid instead of plaster, vacation instead of holiday, pants instead of trousers (how do you get mud on your pants?)] but then I’m a sucker for moaning about things like that.  It’s like reading a Xanga entry written by an English person who has never been to America, never even met anyone American, and yet they still write mom.  It’s mum damnhellnation!  Sorcerer’s stone?  Noooo ….

I’m so proud of my English-English language.

*so spank me*

And then I remembered that it was a fantasy, a story, a wholesome couple of hours of good fun … it wasn’t serious.

I’ve always been pinikiny like that.  For years I couldn’t understand musicals because I couldn’t contemplate a life where people suddenly started singing and dancing in time with each other.  And then they’d just stop and go about their daily lives, as though nothing had happened.  I loved watching Summer Holiday [seemingly on every single Christmas Eve] but I loved it because of the romantic storyline.  I loved Mary Poppins because I wanted her to be my nanny and I wanted to live in the time of suffragettes and chimney sweeps.  I adored The Sound of Music because I wanted to be the littlest kid.  Could you get a better nanny than Julie Andrews?  Chitty Chitty Bang Bang?  My all-time favourite.  The one I desperately want to see in the West End.  The Childcatcher.  Oh gosh.  Weak knees.  See the pattern I developed in early childhood?  It’s always the greasy haired evil ones …


I was always blessed with a vivid imagination.  I could make books come alive in my head.  I was able to write stories.  I held tea-parties for my dolls, and later I treated my Sindy to erotic sex scenes with Action Man [not that I knew much about sex at the age of ten and besides, it didn’t help that Action Man didn’t even have a hint of a bulge in his plastic pants].  I believed in fairies.  I had at least two [known] imaginary friends.  I played schools, alone.  I made up stories in the playground at school based on  The Dukes of Hazzard or CHiPs.  I could play alone for hours.  I could enter the world of Enid Blyton’s Brownies and giants and princesses with no problem – but I couldn’t grasp the concept of musicals.  It was years before I was able to enjoy them fully, without worrying about the things that seemed wrong in my little head. 

It’s like having a blocked brain.

I can cope with only five songs in a film.  Especially when one child asks why the Oompa-Loompas can sing so well together, so well that it seems planned … that’s me thinking, that is. 

And if you haven’t seen Charlie and the Chocolate Factory yet?  Go, go now!  Before it’s too late and the magic has worn off …

please God bless childhood films xxx Elsabeth



  1. I so want to see that movie!! (but Kevin doesn’t like to go to “children’s” movies without a child…)  I may have to go alone. (so there!)
    I loved Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang but my favorite was always Bedknobs and Broomsticks!!

  2. Oh!  and I think the producers of a movie do that because the movie is primarily made for release in the US and they think we are all too stupid to know what they mean if they use the proper British terms. (*rolls eyes*)  We aren’t, by the way.  At least most of us aren’t. 

  3. I’m going to see it tonight .  I know it’s different to the 60’s version, which I watched last week as a predecessor to our visit tonight.  I’m quite looking forward to it…
    … but I’m sad that they’ve intermingled the Americanisms.  Tsk, tsk.  Roald would be turning in his grave.

  4. I really do want to see the film!  Johnny Depp has me a tad weirded out in the previews though. lol
    Have you seen the movie “little shop of horrors”?  THAT movie is sooo annoying! blah!  I have to agree with no more than 5 also!
    Mary Poppins!  She was fun wasnt she?
    You call band-aids plaster? LOL

  5. imdb says Willy Wonka is a 70s film. naughty naughty pedantic film student.and Peter Ostrum (Charlie Bucket) is now “a vet to large farm animals (cows and horses) in rural New York state”.and… cinemas make their money from crunchy things. the first weekend they make zilch from the movie tickets (hence why first weekend sales are important to studios, as they get it). the dumb popcorn costs approximately 2p a bag the size of a bin-liner (or so an ex cinema employee called Chilli Palmer once told me), so you can see where their profit must come from.and.. and… and…. do you really like Gene Wilder’s willy?Lewis.

  6. I have mixed feelinds about it, but I didn’t really like the other one. I preferred books to films growing up. Now I’m about half and half. I adored Bedknobs and Broomsticks and Mary Poppins, but didn’t like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang cos it scared me.

  7. RYN: Yes – I, too, noticed the misspellings, but chose to ignore them. I was going to correct the one you mentioned, but thought it sort of worked in the context of the quiz itself. I didn’t like the last question because it didn’t give me the option of saying I don’t believe in the devil and none of the other choices seemed relevant.I’m babbling because I’m bored…. sorry….

  8. RYCs: Yes, I saw CATCF, I loved the Oompa Loompa songs .  It definitely was much darker than the Gene Wilder film, but in a good way.
    The lack of continuity with the accents and the language irritated me too…
    Yay for Badgers, sorry my email didn’t work (grr), but yay for them!  I’m going to create a ringtone as well soon
    So.. what was your suggestion (I have another evening and most of Sunday on my own… )

  9. I hope your nana feels better. And I’m sure someone will find your big brother. Czech Republic isn’t a big place and keep him abreast of the situation. =0)
    I think someone did compile an English-English to English-American dictionary. Fags here means ” a derrogatory term for homosexuals” whereas there, it’s a cigarettes. I’ve never been comfortably with saying “aye let’s go out aye and have a fag aye?”–even when I’m over in the UK– it brings to mind me lighting up and smoking gay men though. Then I start to giggle in a mad frenzy and start choking on my own cigarette. Or wearing knickers instead of panties.
    Well, I was watching A Clockwork Orange, which is one of my favorite all time movies–but to be honest, i don’t understand half the lingo.  It only makes sense because he’s raping, pillaging, and hurting so you connect one with the other.
    Here, when we say “sweets” for tea time, immediately, chocolate bars and m&ms come to mind whereas ever since i’ve started working in the UN environment where 80 percent of the people are European or comes from an English boarding school background with a degree from Cambridge or Oxford that “let’s discuss this over afternoon tea and sweets” really mean tea and cookies or cake—or in French-Middle East fusion cases, those little Turkish delight looking nouggets which I adore which are so bad for the waistline. 

  10. We have no kids, so, in the past, have resorted to taking the neices and nephews to movies to see them ourselves.  However, with the reviews of Willy Wonka, we may need to sneak in without children since we won’t see any for a few months….

  11. oops…nieces…and by the way, we have a wonderful assortment of children’s musicals in our collection…including some Charlie Brown, Sound of Music, and a variety of Christmas specials!

  12. I love your english-english too!   I always think whenever I talk to someone English or Scottish or anyone with one of those delightful accents and wonderful terminology that makes listening such a delight that to listen to me speak in my jarring California way must be quite painful.  I just think there is no music or class in the way we speak here.  So sad that they didn’t speak true English-English.   Oh wells.  I have not seen it yet.  So, I take it you recommend?

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