Let me get the obvious out of the way. Yes, I saw Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory at a young age and found it extremely entertaining. Yet looking back on it is a perfect way to prove my much-written about theory that nostalgia clouds our better judgment (Star Wars prequels vs original trilogy, anyone?). The 1971 film was a full-on musical, and despite the tremendous, role-defining performance from Gene Wilder as the title character, the film was just too corny for its own good. Having learned since then that the original source material is a book written by Ronald Dahl, all the pieces have fallen into place. It's no wonder Dahl hated that movie; it lacked any of the edginess that made his stories so enjoyable. Now, Gene Wilder is up in arms over this version because it destroys what he created. Sorry buddy, but ultimately it's up to John Q. Public to decide which version will be remembered more fondly. I'm taking Tim Burton's version, which returns to the book's nature and is wonderfully weird, beautiful, and even more in-depth.

From the beginning, we learn that Willy Wonka (Johnny Depp), the famous and eccentric candy-maker recluse, has hidden golden tickets inside the wrappers of five of the millions of Wonka candy bars sold around the world. Those lucky enough to find them will be treated to a tour of the Wonka candy facility-- the largest chocolate factory in the world. Charlie Bucket (Freddie Highmore), a poor London boy whose family barely gets by (the house is deformed and Charlie's two sets of grandparents apparently live in the same bed), has an incredible stroke of luck as his last money is able to buy him one of the candy bars containing a golden ticket. Joining him on the tour of Wonka's factory are his grandfather, Joe (David Kelly), and the four other winners; Augustus Gloop (Philip Wiegratz), a pig of a boy who devours chocolate like a vacuum, Veruca Salt (Julia Winter), the most spoiled girl in England, Violet Beauregarde (Annasophia Robb), an ultra-competitive overachiever who makes contests out of virtually everything, and Mike Teavee (Jordon Fry), a super-intelligent video-game addict who dislikes candy yet comes along simply to point out all the scientific flaws in Wonka's machinery.

Tone-wise, this version of the tale of the magical chocolate factory couldn't possibly differ more from its '70s sibling. The inside of Wonka's factory, partcularly the room with the flowing chocolate river and fields made of candy, is like Oz on a drug trip. The infamous Oompa Loompas (played by Deep Roy, who is replicated via CGI) do all the maintainence, and their songs that punctuate the downfall of a greedy child are way more entertaining and creative than the nursery-ryhme antics of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Bombastically presented with a variety of different beats (I especially like the rock-opera one), they come close to making the film worthy all by themselves. This is a fantasy, not a musical; scenes that featured singing in the original version are handled far more effectively here. Take Grandpa Joe rising out of the bed, for example. A corny song supported this feat in Willy Wonka; here he simply jumps up and starts tap-dancing, and it's hilarious.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is a simple morality play with a simple lesson emphasizing the price paid for greediness and overindulgence. One by one, Charlie's companions fall prey to something inside the factory, getting their just-desserts for their behavior. The leaps forward in CGI and set-design make many of these incidents all the more real-looking and creepy (like Violet Beauregarde swelling into a gigantic blueberry). Fear not, this is still a family film, but with Tim Burton at the helm, things are guaranteed to be a little off the beaten path.

Ever since Pirates of the Caribbean, Johnny Depp has been, bar none, the hottest commodity in Hollywood. His willingness to try something new every time on screen makes him the ideal candidate to re-invent Willy Wonka, and re-invent him he does. This Willy Wonka is a creepy character with odd mannerisms. One gets the sense that Wonka offers five children a chance to tour his factory simply because it seems like the right thing to do; it doesn't necessarily mean he likes kids. "Take him to the taffy puller!" he says half-gleefully upon learning the fate of Mike Teavee. If you were born and raised with the 1971 film as the definitive tale, you'll probably be more than a little freaked out at seeing Willy Wonka so eccentric as opposed to genial, Michael Jackson comparisons notwithstanding.

Freddie Highmore, appearing in his second consecutive movie with Depp (the actor reccommended him to Burton on the basis of Finding Neverland), is a revelation. This kid is as natural an actor as they come, handling all the emotional transitions of his character effortlessly. This film is correctly titled Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and indeed Charlie is the central character. He's the one we find ourselves identifying with and rooting for throughout the film.

Burton decides to plumb into the soul of Willy Wonka, offering up several flashback sequences about the character's rough childhood, where he wears a nightmarish contraption of an orthodonic brace and is forbidden candy by his dentist father (played by Christopher Lee). In both films, Willy Wonka is left at least a little bit of mystique, but the backstory here is much appreciated. And it makes for a satisfying conclusion reminiscent of the father/son relationship in Burton's Big Fish.

There's simply no doubt about it. Tim Burton's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is the superior version, meeting or besting the original in virtually every way that counts, from acting to visuals to music to emotional power. Tim Burton was the perfect choice for a project like this; his vision is unique and his fingerprints are all over the film (though I wish he would pull the reigns in on composer Danny Elfman once in a while; he runs buck wild with the bombastic score). Again, if you loved the original film like a child, your reaction to this may range from mixed to appalled. Lovers of Dahl's book and Tim Burton fans, however, should be pleased by this marvelous adventure.