To be clear, I don’t mean “What’s wrong with the movie Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?”
No, I mean I’m going to tell you the multitude of things that are wrong with hands down the creepiest movie ever made.
And for the record I’m talking about the original 1971 Gene Wilder version, not that seizure-inducing 2005 Johnny Depp catastrophe. Depp, I’ll deal with you later.
Remember that time that Violet girl ate that gum, blew up like a balloon and turned violet herself? I mean what a bitch. Then the Oompa Loompas had to come roll her away into the “Juicing Room”. What the fuck did that entail?
Then that other Veruca Salt chick was all “I want an Oompa Loompa NOW DADDY!”
Seriously. Rein that shit in you cunty little brat. If you don’t shut the fuck up you’re going to get sucked down some sort of egg filtering apparatus that looks disturbingly like a washing machine. (Not that I was ever frightened of my washing machine after seeing the movie.)
And then that little television obsessed douche got himself shrunk down to a teeny tiny version so he had to leave in his mom’s purse. I mean what kid willingly changes from his ever-present cowboy outfit into a tight white suit that makes him look like a dick, we’re talking an actual cock here, and ultimately gets himself trapped inside a television set?
What a bunch of greedy fuckers.
I mean the only one whose actions really made any sense was the fat kid who fell into the chocolate and got swept up into that fucking tube. His only real fault was being a candy-fueled chub chub who couldn’t follow instructions very well. Still, fat Augustus Gloop sent claustrophobes everywhere running crying from the theatre.
Nevermind the fact that we never saw any of them ever again. Some girl gets whisked away down a golden egg shoot and, well, that’s just it? I mean I know they’re shitty kids but wouldn’t a little bit of follow up be in order? And if not then I’d like to get in on this — I know some shitty kids who might just benefit from an indefinite trip to the Juicing Room.
There are countless other incredibly creepy scenarios that take place throughout as well:
- Apparently burping excessively saves fucking lives in the instance of being ripped into bloody pieces by an industrial ceiling fan. And don’t forget the bubbles. Just cause, bubbles.
- It’s completely okay to ignore the screams of frightened passengers on a psychedelic boat ride fueled by a multitude of obedient rowing orange men down a chocolate river to hell while making up a song about their distress in order to enhance it “the danger must be growing, the rowers keep on rowing….”
- Glass elevators that go shattering out the top of glass buildings are completely safe, no one gets cut a bit, and you can learn a lot about yourself as you float through the sky with an old man and a real fucking weird dude in a top hat.
But it doesn’t stop there. Let’s go back to the beginning, to the creepiest scene ever filmed to date:
Remember when Charlie runs home to the dingy hovel that way too many family members live in together where he’s greeted by a bed full of grandparents?
Hang on. Let me repeat that: one single fucking bed filled with two sets of grandparents. How fucking disturbing is that? Four of them all hanging out in bed all day, oozing bed sore puss onto the undoubtedly already dirty sheets while rubbing their foot callouses together. I mean that shit’s way more disturbing than a freaking chocolate factory filled with tiny orange poorly spray tanned men all dressed in matching outfits who wander around chanting a song about themselves. Right?
Then Grandpa Joe gets right on up out of the bed he’s been sharing with three other people for 20 years and starts hopping around in his long nightgown. You know, the nightgown that looks exactly like the one being worn by the THREE OTHER PEOPLE HE SHARES A BED WITH ALL DAY.
GOD.
Chocolate anyone?
