We're Supposed to Like Him but Why? Grandpa Joe (Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory)

So today being a Monday, I decided to start the week with a not-so-serious article and talk about one of my favorite movies growing up. There are few films that convey “pure imagination” like Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (I know… I had to use it). The songs, the sets, the characters, the candy: I love this movie. In my opinion there are few cinematic portrayals that rival Gene Wilder’s enchanting yet haunting Willy Wonka. It’s a performance that is right up there with Anthony Hopkins’ Hannibal Lecter, Johnny Depp’s Jack Sparrow and Heath Ledger’s Joker. But I’m not writing here today to talk about Wilder or the Oompa Loompas or anything so magical. Let’s instead talk about Grandpa Joe.

For any who haven’t seen this movie in a while, Grandpa Joe is one of four elderly invalids living with protagonist Charlie and his mother. It is established right away that this is not a financially secure household. The place is very tiny with all four grandparents having to share one bed. Their poverty is further established by the fact that Charlie, despite his young age, works a job while the other kids play and sing songs with candy vendors. In addition, when Charlie gets his pay raise and spends it on a loaf of bread, his mother refers to the food as “a banquet”. Yeah, he get the idea that the belts are tightened with his family.

This is good character development for Charlie as it establishes him as both responsible and selfless, despite his young age. He didn’t spend any of his hard earned money on candy, no matter how catchy the opening song. No instead he goes home and buys food for his family. In addition, he nobly volunteers to support his Grandpa Joe’s tobacco cost. Nice kid… let’s talk about Grandpa Joe.

Grandpa Joe lives a boring existence. Every day he lies in a bed, chatting with its three other occupants and watching television. He will also talk to Charlie and his mother if they are available (you know, not working to feed him and let him smoke). Let’s talk about some of the conversation he has with Charlie’s mother, in particular his commentary here: “One of these days I’m going to get out of this bed and help him.” Grandpa Joe is of course referring to Charlie, sympathizing with the protagonist. That’s all well and good but as Charlie’s mother responds: “Dad, in all the years you’ve talked about getting out of that bed, I have yet to see you set foot on the ground.” Guess what the response here is: “Well maybe if the floor wasn’t so cold.”

Yep, it’s that damn floor. Ruins so many plans doesn’t it? Here is tiny Charlie, a kid matured passed his age into supporting his family and why? Because that accursed floor holds Grandpa Joe prisoner, preventing him from, you know, being a responsible adult and supporting his family… or at least supporting his own tobacco habits. I never liked the character of Grandpa Joe and I didn’t get why the movie wanted to present him as a good guy. Certainly Charlie loves him but Charlie is a young and naive kid. We’re taught to think all the other kids that go with Charlie to the chocolate factory are horrible, wicked people that get what they deserve but what about Grandpa Joe? Seriously? Those kids may have been jerks but they were like eight. What’s his excuse?

Other reasons why Grandpa Joe cannot leave the bed: the liberal media, violent video games, Barack Obama's socialist policies.
Other reasons why Grandpa Joe cannot leave the bed: the liberal media, violent video games, Barack Obama’s socialist policies.

So Grandpa Joe, despite loving Charlie and sympathizing deeply with his plight, cannot be moved to help. He’s old damn it! Now maybe I’m being harsh. The film appears to establish Grandpa Joe as unable to leave the bed. Sure he has a fighting spirit, but that cannot overcome old age and a potentially debilitating condition. Maybe Grandpa Joe really would like nothing more than to spring out of that bed and help Charlie to support his family, he simply no longer possesses the strength. Yeah, I might be being too harsh.

NOPE.
NOPE.

As soon as Charlie wins the last coveted golden ticket, Grandpa Joe is suddenly more limber than Usain Bolt. Where was this energy when his family needed it? Where was that drive when his grandson was delivering papers or his daughter was up late at night washing laundry?

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Grandpa Joe doesn’t get better either. Any who have read the book know that the film differs in more than just its name. There is a whole added sequence involving fizzy lifting drinks which is not present in Roald Dahl’s novel. The scene occurs shortly after Violet Beauregarde as transformed into a giant blueberry and wheeled off to whatever fate awaits her. Point is: this scene occurs after children have failed and been kicked out (or worse killed). So Charlie and Grandpa Joe have reason to be on their toes. Now Charlie is a young kid, young kids are eager, impetuous – stupid. Point is, I don’t fault Charlie for wanting to try the fizzy lifting drinks. It shows that he’s human. Without this error, he would look like a young Christ figure (just watch Tim Burton’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory to see what I’m talking about).

Now Grandpa Joe is the adult in this situation and the bulk of the responsibility falls to him. AND IT’S HIS IDEA! “Let’s take a drink, Charlie. No one’s watching.” Really? Really Grandpa Joe? This is the man who, not ten minutes prior, called Violet Beauregarde “a nitwit” for not listening to Mr. Wonka. So what does that make him? Did Mr. Wonka say the drinks were okay? No, no he did not. In fact he said the opposite.

I just nearly got my grandson and I killed for fizzy lifting drinks.
I just nearly got my grandson and I killed for fizzy lifting drinks.

And yet, despite this, when Willy Wonka informs Charlie and Grandpa Joe of their failure to keep to the contract (one that Charlie signed without reading at request of Grandpa Joe), it isn’t Charlie who flips his shit. I know that Charlie is supposed to be the protagonist and he’s an awesome one but this movie can be read with a very cynical undertone. Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory: a story about how an old man uses his grandson to promote his living status. Think about it.

At the beginning of the film, Grandpa Joe is lying in bed and a small rundown home. At the end of the movie, he is essentially co-owner of Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory. Did he do anything to deserve this rise in fortunes: nope. Well he cultivated a good relationship with his grandson… although why Charlie listens to him is beyond me. Why he’s not portrayed far more negatively in the movie is beyond me as well; really looking at everything, he is an antagonistic figure.

I feel Grandpa Joe is one of the people that republicans must imagine when they fear unemployment benefits and welfare. Obviously his guy is taking advantage of not just his grandson but the system too. I can only imagine what happened after Charlie took over the chocolate factory and gave Grandpa Joe a job. What if he put him in charge of something important like keeping track of company income? I can only imagine the ordeal ending with: “Sorry Charlie, I know the factory closed but – the floor, it was just too cold to keep a cost efficient budget.”

Well played Grandpa Joe, well played.

Getting real tired of your shit, Grandpa Joe.
Getting real tired of your shit, Grandpa Joe.

Thoughts? Comments? Am I full of shit or onto something? Let me know now in the feedback section of this article.

Clever Girl: Why the Stupidity of Jurassic Park Doesn't Stop it being a Classic

Growing up there are few films I remember more fondly than Jurassic Park. I was only 4 when it came out in 1993 (just old enough to know how cool dinosaurs were) so my parents wouldn’t let me see it in theaters. But with two older brothers, rest assured we had that VHS copy as soon as it came out! Even then, there were two scenes in particular that I wasn’t allowed to watch as a child: Gennaro being eaten by the T-Rex and the scene with Samuel L. Jackson’s arm. My parents wanted to protect me. Did it work? No, of course I saw those scenes (I think I saw Evil Dead only a couple years later, I was not a sheltered child). Anyway, what’s the point of my telling you all this? So that you know how much I love Jurassic Park. I think I could quote you most of the movie. I think this is one of the most recent films that can be called a true cinematic classic and, watching it last night on the big screen in IMAX 3D, it occurred to me just how stupid Jurassic Park is.

Stupid is a generic word, what do I mean by it? What I mean is that there are a lot of scenes/sequences in Jurassic Park that make absolutely no sense. You, as the reader, may respond to this claim with: “it’s a movie about genetically created dinosaurs, it’s not supposed to be realistic”. Yes, Jurassic Park is science-fiction fantasy, but any author/director worth his/her salt would tell you: just because your characters exist in an unrealistic world does not entitle them to unrealistic action. I have no problem with the dinosaurs (horrible scientific inaccuracies included). What I take issue with is the sloppiness in several of the action sequences in the movie.

Let’s start with the Tyrannosaurus first, the largest problem in the movie (in more ways than one… sorry for that pun). The T-Rex is incredibly awesome and belongs to several of Jurassic Park‘s more iconic scenes. My issue is not with the film’s use of the actual dinosaur but rather, with this pictured below.

Such a sense of foreboding in this shot

The impact tremor: Jurassic Park‘s iconic method to inform the audience that shit was about to go down. This occurs multiple times in the film, directly before the T-Rex’s first two appearances.

“Anybody hear that? It’s a, um… It’s an impact tremor, that’s what it is… I’m fairly alarmed here.”

Point is, director Steven Spielberg and scriptwriters Michael Crichton and David Koepp created the Tyrannosaurus to be a creature of dread. For the first half of the movie, the T-Rex is not the surprise scare, it is the creature whose coming is foretold – and there’s nothing the hapless visitors of Jurassic Park can do to stop it. The focus on the impact tremor builds the atmosphere of the scene, allowing the audience to feel the fear and enjoy a full wealth of goosebumps before the animal appears. This effect greatly enhances the first two scenes. Now here’s this:

I could watch this ending all day and never get tired of it.

This ending sequence might be my favorite of any movie… but it doesn’t make any sense. As before stated, by both the film and myself, the T-Rex is a creature with presence. The audience knows where it is throughout the film as evidenced by either the iconic roar or the (even more iconic) impact tremors. Yet in this sequence the T-Rex ninjas (yes ninja is now a verb) its way inside a building without anyone, human or raptor, being aware of its presence. Does it make sense: no. Does it detract from my enjoyment of the film: nope. I’ll get back to why that matters at the end. For now, let’s keep the list going with our next item of stupidity:

The falling car sequence.
The falling car sequence.

Of all the failures of common sense in Jurassic Park, I think this one may grind on me the most. Here’s the skinny: the T-Rex knocks the car (with Tim inside) into a tree. Dr. Grant, being the protagonist he is, goes up into the tree to rescue Tim. This he does but not without moving the steering wheel, thus making it so the car is no longer stable. The two must then climb down the tree with the car in hot pursuit. This creates an action sequence with two characters outrunning the destruction in a race for their very lives.

The problem: there is more than one way down a tree, especially a tree as big as the one in the movie. Why, why on God’s good Earth, would anyone choose the path directly below the car? Especially since they didn’t start out there! Dr. Grant pulls Tim out of the side of the car, that puts them beside it. Meaning Dr. Grant took himself and a child into the direct path of a falling vehicle (too many days digging up dinosaurs in the hot sun I guess).

Look at all the branches you're NOT using.
Look at all the branches you’re NOT using.

Obviously this was, again, the movie sacrificing sense for a cool action sequence. Maybe the reason it effects me more is because I don’t think this sequence is nearly as cool as the finale. For one: no dinosaurs. Two: the car falls in a completely unnatural way, which is yet another suspension of disbelief that Jurassic Park is asking me to make. So two lapses in logic for one dinosaur-free action sequence. Again I’m going to get back to why this doesn’t ruin or even really detract from the movie. Moving on.

Let’s skip ahead in the film to near the end. The “UNIX system” scene (anyone who knows computers has another reason to groan here). Lex is trying to lock the doors while a raptor is trying to force its way into the room. Dr. Grant and Dr. Sattler are trying to hold the door closed. In the meantime Dr. Sattler is also trying to reach the gun, that Dr. Grant dropped, with her foot but in her words: “I can’t get it unless I move!” So they’re in a pickle. If only there was one other person in the room, someone who is literally doing nothing with himself in a time of crisis. Wait… what’s Tim doing?

Yep.
Yep.

That’s right, Tim just stands there. This irks me too. It means that, during filming of this sequence, Steven Spielberg had to instruct Joseph Mazzello (actor who plays Tim) to stand there and look like that. How did Spielberg not realize the problem? He probably did; again it is done to enhance the tension of the scene. The problem is that all tension vanishes when you realize that, yeah Tim is a dumb-ass. Also there are a lot of big windows into that room that the raptor could jump through…

Okay, so I’ve had my fun poking holes in Jurassic Park. There’s more I could do but I think you get the point: it’s not a perfect film. I can’t stress enough how well the movie holds up though. All of these problems detracted nothing from my enjoyment. Yet Jurassic Park has two sequels and… they’re not so well remembered. For all intents and purposes, The Lost World: Jurassic Park (actual full title) and Jurassic Park III are just like the first. They’re all three stupid and contain plot holes. So why is one good and the others not?

I think the answer is not found in the script, or the scene construction (although there may be a bit in the latter) but in the players. Jurassic Park has a phenomenal cast that is just insanely fun to watch. Who can’t get behind Sam Neill as Dr. Grant (the man is like Indiana Jones with dinosaurs). Jeff Goldblum owes the entirety of his fame to his quirky portrayal of Ian Malcolm (Independence Day also deserves some credit). Laura Dern, Joseph Mazzello and Ariana Richards provide Jurassic Park‘s emotional core while actors Martin Ferroro and Wayne Knight give us characters we love to see get eaten. Add Samuel L. Jackson (no further explanation needed) doing his trademark performance and Richard Attenborough selling the film’s majestic wonder and there is a combination that can’t be beat. The sequels just don’t have that same killer chemistry.

This is what is needed for Jurassic Park IV (yes it is happening). Recreate that same wonder and fun that existed in the first film. Dinosaurs are awesome even when they’re not chasing or eating people. And it’s great to see a cast that look like they’re having fun rather than simply doing their jobs. I hope director Colin Trevorrow is up to the challenge of Jurassic Park IV. Seeing the original in theaters again made me wish for more Jurassic Park, with all the fun and stupidity included.

Thoughts? Comments? Am I full of shit or onto something? Let me know now in the feedback section of this article.

Also Bob Peck as Robert Muldoon. Never have I seen a man be so serious while looking so ridiculous. Just... his shorts, they deserve their own film.
Also Bob Peck as Robert Muldoon. Never have I seen a man be so serious while looking so ridiculous. Just… his shorts, they deserve their own film.