The core appeal of Willy Wonka is that he's a nigh-omnipotent maniac who uses his near limitless powers over reality to trick shitty people into killing themselves. You can't make him the protagonist of a whimsical coming of age tale - you have to treat him like Jason Voorhees, or Dracula, or any other horror icon. Give him some new victims and new interesting kills and set him loose, that's all audiences want.
I feel like I watched a somewhat different movie...
Gene lobbied hard for Wonka to be introduced as a feeble limping old man who suddenly falls into a forward somersault and leaps to his feet, because "from that moment on the audience won't know if he can be trusted." On a related note: the director told Gene what would happen during the boat scene, but none of the other actors were prepared; to this day, none of them are sure what he ad libbed and what was scripted.
My favorite detail, though, is his performance of Pure Imagination. On the surface, the song is charming and inviting, but if you look closely at him throughout the scene, you'll notice that Gene never blinks. He looks around, down at his feet, up at the trees; his eyes never fully close. He moves erratically, stuttering up and down the steps of the chocolate room. The lyrics are warm and friendly, but his face is blank. He bows to permit his visitors to run amok, but his posture is stiff. He helps Violet and Mike reach a couple of treats, but there is no joy in the gesture. The final post-chorus feels like a dirge, a threat, and a warning, all at once; Wonka sits in repose under a tree, but his eyes are glassy and dispassionate. "There is no life I know to compare with pure imagination; / living there / you'll be free / if you truly / wish / to be.......... "
Fantasy in excess, like anything else, will destroy you; that's the real message of Gene Wilder's Wonka. He taunts his guests with unrepentant disdain, and doesn't care if they live or die. He toys with their emotions, their safety, and their grip on reality, feeling no regret or remorse, no pity, no compassion. Fantasy is colorful and compelling, but it's false, and ultimately empty. Wonka is a walking maladaptive daydream, and as far as I'm concerned, that's the real reason the 1971 film has endured in the culture for so long.
Wait, I'm expanding my "Mary Poppins vs. Bugs Bunny" trickster spectrum here.
