Michael Therriault and the ensemble of “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”, Photo by Dahlia Katz
For the record, Roald Dahl’s story has never appealed to me, not even as a child. The characters, and the narrative attitude towards them, rub me the wrong way (yes, even Charlie) and I don’t feel enriched or enlightened for having spent time with them. I have some appreciation for the 1971 film (Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory), though it’s Gene Wilder specifically that does it for me. To its credit, this Young People’s Theatre production of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory ticks a lot of my boxes in terms of theatricality.
For starters: there’s Breton Lalama. Having seen him in a number of supporting roles, I’m drawn to his distinctive bright-eyed and quirky intensity. So glad to finally catch him in in a featured role, I can really root for his Charlie Bucket, not so much because of the character’s kindness and modesty—traits which the story glorifies—but because Lalama radiates a joyful, tenacious enthusiasm that makes me giddy.
Michael Therriault’s wily Willy Wonka is undeniably charismatic, though less unhinged than Wilder (or even, heaven help us, Johnny Depp)—and I do miss that sinister edge. Though he cheerfully accepts the many ghastly punishments doled out to the awful children touring his chocolate factory, it’s too bright and airy to be particularly ghoulish. My favourite moments with him are some cute early scenes with Charlie when he’s disguised as a local candy shop owner.
The rest of the cast are vivid and compelling in multiple roles. David Lopez (Augustus Gloop), Ruthe Acheampong (as Violet Beauregarde), Caitlyn MacInnis (as Veruca Salt) and Nick Boegel (as Mike Teavee) have developed sharp and evocative body for each of these entitled children. Of all the flamboyant brats, Boegel’s portrayal was the one that most intrigued me. His slumped and guarded body language carries a hint of violence, an echo of the dark threat behind Wilder’s eyes.
Each gets an introductory musical number that establishes their individual deals. Framed as television news spots, these songs (music by Marc Shaiman, lyrics by Shaiman and Scott Wittman) come in a variety of musical genres, from Bavarian yodelling to hip hop. Each little ditty isn’t particularly memorable, but they suitably establish each child’s unique vibe. Ming Wong’s colourful, distinguishing costumes solidify them.
The musical is significantly truncated for this production, which does away with a lot of the lead up the factory visit so that we can hit all the major story beats in a single, 75-minute act. It’s rushed, but the momentum is engaging even if we lack much of the world building and bonding time with the characters. Most baffling is the loss of the psychedelic—and iconic!—boat ride into the factory.
A lot of the magic is achieved through Laura Warren’s projections, which are a constant fixture on the upstage screen. Though relied upon for visual interest, they seem rather flat. The CN Tower figures prominently, setting the story in Toronto. This seems an unnecessary contrivance, but perhaps it genuinely helps with children’s immersion. Many of the skewed alleyway views are quite striking.
Brandon Kleiman’s modular set elements help ground us in some tangible reality. I especially liked the shared bed for all four of Charlie’s grandparents. They drift on from the side, bundled up together under corrugated tin, a cozy portrait of a poor family making the best of their shabby digs. The panels of gears and piping that flank the stage do a lot of ambient heavy lifting, hinting at a vast network of expansive machinery.
The spectacle of each child’s horrific comeuppance is hit or miss. Augustus Gloop’s fall into the chocolate river is awkward and unconvincing. Violet Beauregarde’s transformation into a giant blueberry starts off with some moderately impressive costume inflation, though she eventually gets swapped out for a big prop balloon. Veruca Salt getting unceremoniously dumped into a bin and wheeled away is the least menacing, but her preceding dance with the giant squirrels (thumbs up for both Lopez and Boegel!) is a satisfying campy spectacle. The best is Mike Teavee getting zapped into an actual TV and the miniature version of him being scooped up and plopped into his relieved mother’s purse.
The Oompa Loompas—in all their pink, polka-dotted glory—facilitate these mishaps with musical accompaniment. As they are portrayed by actors filling other key roles, the overall fullness of some scenes is undermined by the sudden disappearance of characters, but director Thom Allison masks this issue with some clever staging and a consistently buoyant atmosphere.
Again, I’m not fond of the story and it doesn’t take me anywhere special, but this production has sufficient whimsy and pizzaz to at least get me on-board. The persuasive performances are the show’s most winning feature. I imagine Charlie and the Chocolate Factory will delight most of its target demographic.
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
running November 12 to December 30, 2024
Young People’s Theatre (165 Front St. E.)
running time: 75 minutes
Michael Therriault and Breton Lalama in “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”, Photo by Dahlia Katz