102 Drunk Thoughts While Watching 'Charlie And The Chocolate Factory'

102 Drunk Thoughts While Watching 'Charlie And The Chocolate Factory'

Spoiler: I hate Charlie Bucket
354
views

I saw "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" five times in theaters when it first came out. I was a macabre child. But I still believe that the original can't hold a candle to the 2005 remake, mostly due to the hilariously sociopathic attitude Johnny Depp brings to his role as Willy Wonka. When I saw that it had finally been added to Netflix, I knew what I had to do: break out the Franzia and record my thoughts on one of my childhood favorites, partly as an experiment to test my observational capabilities once the last drop had left the box, and partly because I want to be taken seriously as a writer and I'm positive that this will be my magnum opus.

So here they are, my 102 semi-censored thoughts on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, relatively free of inhibitions:

1. Chocolate-making shouldn't be this weird and sterile.

2. Wow this seems like a really inconvenient and costly way to make candy. How does Willy Wonka stay in business?

3. Why does this candy factory look like a maximum security Russian prison?

4. What kind of last name is Bucket?

5. No wonder you’re so ordinary and poor, Charlie. Your last name is Bucket.

6. WATCH OUT CHARLIE IT’S BELLATRIX LESTRA oh it’s just your mother.


7. This kid collects toothpaste caps. To build a scale model of a factory. Isn't that a sign of a serial killer?

8. Making chocolate birds is so unsanitary. Again, how does Willy Wonka stay in business?


9. Why does Willy Wonka dress like a pimp?

10. Chocolatepalacechocolatepalacechocolatepalace.

11. RIP Chocolate Palace.

12. FICKLEGRUBER?

13. PRODNOSE?

14. SLUGWORTH?

15. I WOULD NEVER BUY CANDY FROM ANY OF THEM. Those are such obvious villain names. That’s like buying candy from a guy named Lucifer von Stalin.

16. Wait the Buckets use the old­ people ­bed as a dinner table. That’s so subtly tragic.

17. Then why can't I stop laughing? Oh, wine.

18. I know they’re poor but why is Charlie's bed right under the snowy hole in the roof? Common sense doesn’t cost money, Charlie.

19. Wow this Golden Ticket thing is a genius marketing strategy. Those people are trampling each other to get to that candy.

20. Yay you found the first ticket, congrats Little Aryan Gloop.

21. Wait I think I’m Augustus Gloop. My ticket would definitely have a bite mark in it.

22. His mom said “he eats so many candy bars a day” like she was proud. Sit down, ma’am.

23. VERUCA? HA.

24. There has to be some kind of a union rule against making your employees unwrap candy every day.

25. *Mrs. Salt silently drinks a martini in the background*

26. Mrs. Salt is my spirit animal.

27. “Whipple-­Scrumptious Fudgemallow Delight” will be my stripper name if this writing thing doesn't work out.

28. “Whatever happens, you’ll still have the candy” is my new motto. Put that on my tombstone.

29. Oh my God he’s sharing his once-a-year candy bar with his family. What a goon.

30. And his grandma is just sniffing the chocolate. Somebody get her medication.

31. Why do Violet and her mother dress exactly alike?

32. And why do they both have bowl cuts?

33. And why does her mom have a bowl cut with bangs?

34. 400 trophies in the living room but no TV?! Violet deserved to lose the contest.

35. What is wrong with this family?

36. Teavee? Oh, I get it.

37. What year does this movie take place in? It looks like Tim Burton took all the worst parts of the 40s-80s, threw them together, and spray painted the whole thing grey. Classic Burton.

38. Sweet combover, Mr. Teavee. You can hardly tell you're 80% bald.

39. “In the end I only had to buy one candy bar.” So you think you're something special?

40. HAHAHAHAHA the Golden Ticket contest put Mr. Bucket out of a job.

41. Yeah Charlie, don't give that money you just found to your destitute family. Buy more candy instead. I guess that's what happens when you're raised by Bellatrix LeStrange.

42. WHY IS THERE A GOLDEN TICKET TWO BLOCKS FROM THE FACTORY?

43. “All the chocolate you could ever eat.” Somehow I don’t think he expected you, Augustus Gloop.

44. These kids are staring each other down and I'm a little intimidated.

45. Violet and her mother really need to stop dressing alike.

46. Somebody remix this puppet song.

47. Oh Lord, the puppets are melting.

48. I seriously can't deal with the flaming robots, the mother/daughter twins, and the Gloop Globs all at the same time. Somebody help me.

49. Johnny Depp, give me your sunglasses. Now.

50. And those purple leather gloves, too.

51. Hello, I'm Willy Wonka, welcome to my factory, let me insult you.

52. "I'm Augustus Gloop, I luff your sho-co-latt." "I can see that." Dzamn, ice cold.

53. His shudder when Violet hugs him is my life in a nutshell.

54. “I always thought a veruca was a type of wart you got on the bottom of your foot.” *silence* (I just Googled it. He's right. Also, don't Google "veruca".)

55. Willy Wonka just spent a solid five minutes insulting children.

56. “Let’s be friends.” “Best friends.” -­ freshmen on the first day of college.

57. Wow, candy room. You can tell Augustus just glooped himself.

58. And of course Teavee just starts smashing candy. Put this kid on Vivance.

59. I learned to save my gum behind my ear from Violet Beauegarde and I'm still doing it a decade later. I really need to break that habit.

60. Augustus seriously couldn’t wait for Willy to finish his story before he started eating again?

61. I wouldn't either.

62. Those kids are not even phased by the almost-certain death of another kid on the tour. What is wrong with these little children of the candy corn?

63. I want Oompa Loompas at my funeral to sing about how I died.

64. Willy Wonka: The Man Who Feared No Lawsuit.

65. Violet’s mom is hitting on Willy Wonka. She really wants her daughter to win this thing.

66. Why does Willy Wonka keep having PTSD-style flashbacks?

67. Oh, right, because his dad threw his candy in the fireplace as a child. If my dad tried to pull that crap I would have put myself up for adoption.

68. Willy Wonka whips cows to get whipped cream, for the love of God, somebody call PETA.

69. If Wonka makes Everlasting Gobstopper for kids with just a little allowance money, what does he make for people up to their armpits in student loan debt?

70. Okay, Wonka, if you didn’t want the kids to eat the gum why would you let Violet have it? She never shuts up about how much gum she chews.

71. OH wait you DID want her to chew it. I get it now. Wink wink, nudge nudge.

72. “VIOLET, you’re turning … VIOLET!” You think you’re clever, Tracksuit?

73. “I can’t have a blueberry as a daughter. How is she supposed to compete?!” “You could put her in a country fair!”


74. I hope the Oompa-Loompas write their own music.

75. “Let’s boogie!” - Willy Wonka after another child falls victim to his obviously-hazardous factory.

76. Hey, look another weird, traumatic flashback.

77. The number of times the word “daddy” is said in this film bothers me.

78. "When Squirrels Attack": this Sunday on Lifetime.

79. The squirrels have no problem throwing the brat into an incinerator. I like their style.

80. Much like me in my senior year of high school, Willy Wonka doesn’t even try to hide his hatred for these people. I respect that.

81. This song about a child falling into a heap of garbage is catchy. Is it on iTunes?

82. It is.

83. Take me to fudge mountain.

84. Why are so many animals involved in the making of Wonka's candy? Sheep, squirrels, cows, it's like a giant sugar-themed nativity scene.

85. OH MY GOD MIKE TEAVEE GO HOME.

86. Thank God they can’t really send chocolate over the TV. I would be so fat.

87. Ter.

88. OPRAH CAMEO

89. I want to root for Charlie so badly but he’s just so annoying. And so painfully dumb.

90. Roald Dahl’s message to kids: it doesn’t matter if you’re dumb as long as you’re nice.

91. Willy Wonka better have good teeth with all that headgear he had to wear as a child.

92. Mike Teavee listens to Nickleback.

93. Mike Teavee shops at Pac Sun.

94. Wait so this is basically "The Hunger Games" but with candy at stake. I would actually compete in that.

95. Willy Wonka just crushed a peasant family’s shack with his glass elevator.

96. “Look at me. I had no family and I’m a giant success.” - Willy Wonka. Yeah, you also intentionally harm children so don't brag.

97. Charlie would give up owning Wonka Inc. to be with his family. See? The kid's an idiot. He doesn’t deserve it. Give it to Augustus.

98. THE BUCKETS ARE HAVING A REAL DINNER FOR ONCE!

99. Wonka has gold Ws on the bottom of his shoes. God this man has style.

100. Wonka's dad saved every newspaper article about him and his success. Brb while I sob into my hoodie.

101. “Boys, no business at the dinner table.” LADYBUCKET, DO YOU WANT TO GO BACK TO EATING CABBAGE SOUP EVERY NIGHT? NO, SO CHARLIE HAS TO DO BUSINESS AT THE DINNER TABLE. JUST BE HAPPY YOUR DUMB, AVERAGE SON WON A CONTEST THAT SAVED YOU FROM CRUSHING POVERTY.

102. “And life was never sweeter.” Yeah, end on a pun Tim Burton.

Cover Image Credit: http://images2.static-bluray.com/reviews/11414_1.jpg

Popular Right Now

An Open Letter To The Meadville Medical Center And Its ER Staff

When did kindness become a deserved thing in the healthcare field; and only if you're not on drugs?
11372
views

Yes, that cover picture is me, coming off a ventilator...at Magee Women's Hospital in Pittsburgh, a two-hour drive from my house, not at Meadville Medical Center.

This is very difficult to write. We live in a small town, and you are the only hospital for over twenty miles. In fact, I live so close to you, that I can see your rooftop from my back garden. I can walk to you in about ten minutes if it’s not overly humid out. The Life Flights pass over my house as they arrive at and leave your facility, and my young daughter and I pray for every one of them.

My daughter had to call an ambulance on May 30th, as I had a sharp and horrible pain overtake me so suddenly, that I thought my neighbor (who I threatened to report for dealing drugs) had shot me through the dining room window at first. There was no blood to be seen, but the pain was so severe, that combined with the cold sweats and dizziness, I was genuinely afraid I was about to die.

I can’t express in words how proud I was of my girl as she explained to the 911 operator what was the matter and where we lived. She was brave and helpful as they took a blood sample, handled what I later learned was a seizure, and kindly got me into the ambulance from my difficult entryway. She called her Auntie and calmly told her to meet me at the ER. And while memories of the horrible experience I had in your ER twenty years ago still haunted me, the care and attention the ambulance drivers showed me encouraged me that I would be okay.

If only.

There were so many people, and I was half delirious with pain and inexplicable symptoms. Thank God my sister in law, Sheri, was there to help me fight for my life. For the sake of our small town and six degrees of separation, I will call them Nurse A, B, C, and D, and Doctor H. Your staff literally, unapologetically bullied me within an inch of my life.

When I arrived, it was apparently Nurse A who triumphantly announced to everyone involved in my care that I was on drugs, case closed. Despite Sheri and I repeatedly telling them that I hadn’t taken any narcotics, and I won’t take anything stronger than Motrin 800, they persisted in asking what I took. At one point I heard Sheri saying, “She does everything naturally, you're wasting time.” No one cared.

When Nurse A informed me that they needed a urine test, I told her to straight cath me, as I couldn’t stand up. It was Nurse A who told Doctor H that I faked two seizures on the way from my house (I am still amazed by her mystical powers that she could surmise this), and insisted again that I was faking everything. With utter disgust Doctor H said, “She can stand, get her up.” At Sheri’s protest, Nurse A reiterated, “If she can move her legs she can stand.” My legs, which were almost involuntarily moving to find relief from the pain in my abdomen, gave out on me when she insisted I put myself on the bedside commode. I passed out again and urinated on her.

When I woke up to Sheri frantically calling my name, I was greeted by an absolutely disgusted Nurse A, who complained that she needed to go change her clothes, and rolled her eyes at my faking another seizure. She informed everyone who came in next that I was faking these symptoms, and four attempts to straight cath me failed. In that moment, I was sure I was going to die.

Everything after that came in blurry and fragmented vignettes, like an awful out of body experience. There were Nurses B through D or more, all repeatedly asking me what drugs I took. Everyone scowled and frowned, passing on the information that I was faking everything. There were four of these nurses when I woke up on the way to a scan, and all but one asking me what drugs I took, and telling me to stop faking as I hysterically screamed that I could not breathe when I lay flat. I was terrified, confused, out of my mind, and unable to breathe when I lay flat, and they reported that “she hyperventilated herself” in the scan lab.

All the while, Sheri valiantly insisted they would find no drugs in the blood work, and that I probably hadn’t been to a family doctor in years. I lay in your ER cubicle and reconciled myself to God, convinced that I was going to die and be labeled a drug addict.

At some point, something shifted, and suddenly I received the blanket I had asked for hours before. Apparently, my temperature had dropped so low, their fancy thermometers couldn’t read anything. I remember a young man trying to find a vein and saying, “Oh my God, I’ve never seen anything like this. I’m not trying again.” My head was elevated, and the panic of not being able to breathe alleviated somewhat.

Suddenly Doctor H was almost kind, and I heard him telling Sheri something about “a mass” and “blood in her abdomen” and how some other hospital was better equipped to help me. She told me she okay-ed it, and I recall telling her, “I trust you. Just get me out of here.”

In fact, knowing someone else would care for me gave me such peace, that I literally lay completely still as an older man inserted an IV line into my neck with no anesthesia.

We assume the blood work came back and the scan verified what we desperately tried to tell everyone from the beginning; I wasn’t on or seeking drugs. But there was no apology from Nurse A, her fellow nurses, or Doctor H. I may be corrected, but I spent five or six hours in your ER defending myself to the same people who should have been fighting for my life.

As I lay there, talking to Yeshuale, three people in what looked like tactical suits came alongside my bed. The first was a woman who looked like she was speaking into a walkie talkie. Behind her two men. I thought to myself “Oh, state cops. I guess I’m just going to die in prison.” I was so out of it, confused and weary of being asked what drugs I took, I believed your ER staff had called the police and they had come to take me away. All I could think of was what would become of my young daughter.

Thank God, I was mistaken. The blonde woman wasn’t a police officer, but part of the helicopter team, on the phone with Magee in Pittsburgh so she could begin administering blood to me. Blood. Something your staff considered less important than accusing me of using and seeking some weird drugs. Behind her, a tall, blonde man smiled at me and explained that he was taking me in a helicopter and I would be fine. It was like hearing from an angel, and I remember saying, “Todah, Yeshuale!” repeatedly in my head and in a whisper. “Thank You, Jesus!”

Four blocks away, my daughter and the friend she was staying with waved as we flew over my house.

To my surprise, I woke up two days later, attached to a ventilator, one of my sister friends sitting beside my bed. I learned that I’d had two masses in my uterus, which tore itself open and bled into my abdomen. I’d lost four liters of blood and had a transfusion in the Life Flight. When they took the vent out, (my friend took the picture above) I made a joke about being a tough Jersey girl as I signed to the ICU nurse, but inside I was an emotional wreck. Still, as the days went on, I determined to treat everyone with kindness, and was treated the same way at every turn.

Kindness. The one thing I never received from your staff.

What was so special about me that your staff felt interrogating me about my apparent drug use was more important than helping me? My address? Because for some reason all the drug dealers in town seem to want to take over my block? So, we’re all on drugs, then? Do you realize that half my neighbors brag about going to your ER to get pain pills, and how easy it is? I never asked for anything but a Tylenol, and that was on the Life Flight. So, again I ask, what made me so unique?

And, I must say, it’s not even that your staff didn’t believe me. They were mean, hateful even. Rolling their eyes, talking about me like I wasn’t there, saying everything I did was a ruse to get drugs. When did it become okay to treat anyone like that? How was it alright for your nurse to walk in and determine that I was on drugs? How was it alright for her to set the tone of disbelief, unkindness, and abuse? How was it alright for the doctor to allow this and roll with it?

Yes, I said abuse. When someone is screaming that they can’t breathe and you tell them to stop faking, that is abuse. When you berate someone, and accuse them of something to the point where they believe they’re being taken to jail to die, that’s abuse. When you refuse to give someone a blanket, hold them down to the point where they’re bruised, that’s abuse. When you waste time to the point where an ambulance won’t get to the next hospital fast enough… that’s abuse. Your staff verbally, emotionally, and physically abused me.

Not only were they abusive, but they were comfortable with it. Your staff was comfortable with it, and didn’t care what it would cost me or my family. All but one nurse, who Sheri now tells me insisted that there was something wrong with me and took me for the scan. That nurse saved my life. People are comfortable with abuse because they get away with it. Abusers get smug, arrogant and even careless, because those they abuse say nothing. Your staff was smug, rude and uncaring to the point that they displayed a sick sort of disgust for me that was completely obvious. My sister in law later confirmed to me that it wasn’t all in my head.

At what point did this behavior become acceptable? Is it because you’re the only hospital for a 30-minute drive?

And, so what if I had been seeking drugs or high on some unknown concoction? Would that have made it okay for your staff to treat me thusly? Would Nurse A have been justified in declaring my altered state and treating me like garbage? Would Doctor H have been justified in how he treated me? When did nursing and healing give anyone that sort of power? When did people cease to be worthy of kindness, quality health care and gentleness based upon their drug use, or the address they live at?

When did you decide who deserves to be treated with dignity and respect and who does not? When did your medical staff earn that right to decide also?

If we’re completely honest, most of the people I know who abuse pills go to your ER at least once bimonthly to get refills. Your ER physicians pass out opioid scripts like candy and then mistreat the people they’re supplying? Thanks to you, I must hide the pain medication I loathe to take now, because someone will surely break in to my home and steal them if they know I have them. You, and other hospitals like you, are feeding addicts and creating innocent bystander victims like me, but that’s another conversation.

This is difficult to write, because you have your hooks in all over this town. This is difficult to write, because the trauma of that night is still fresh in my mind, and I often cry when I think about it. This is difficult to write, because the reality that I have had to now teach my child to ask any ambulance we ever need to call again to take us to Erie shouldn’t be necessary. This is difficult to write, but it needs to be said, especially since I’ve been finding out that I’m not the only person this has happened to.

You need to address these issues. You need to stop handing out scripts like promotional coupons, and perhaps you won’t have nurses and doctors assuming everyone’s on drugs or seeking them. You need to discourage the abusive and toxic behavior of your staff, and hold them accountable when patients complain. Let me put this into perspective for you: I’m pretty sure Nurse A is the same age as my oldest daughter, and my child would eat mud before she treated anyone like that. Why? Because my kids were never allowed to behave that way in the first place, but to stay on topic, she grew up with consequences, and as an adult still recognizes their severity.

As the events of that night become clearer to me, and I continue my peaceful, miraculous recovery at home, I am determined not to hold on to bitterness about what happened to me at your ER. I am determined to make the most of the second chance at life I’ve been given, and leave your abusive staff in the past. I’ll probably pass some of them in the super market, or sit behind them in church, our town is so small. And while you and your toxic staff will cease to haunt my future, I will surely haunt yours. Nurse A, Doctor H, and Nurses B through whatever… will never forget the night the woman with the blue hair nearly died because they were too busy wrongly judging to actually care.

I am determined to walk out the rest of my life in kindness, the very discussion I had in a blackout with God while your nurse accused me of faking a seizure. I will pray, hoping with all hope that kindness will once again be requisite for employment in your ER and every area of your corporation. Believe me, it’s possible and good for profits. The entire time I spent in Pittsburgh at Magee I never encountered a single unkind staff member from the surgeons to the housekeepers.

I know you can do it.

Cover Image Credit: Heidi Owens

Related Content

Connect with a generation
of new voices.

We are students, thinkers, influencers, and communities sharing our ideas with the world. Join our platform to create and discover content that actually matters to you.

Learn more Start Creating

5 Songs to Add to Your Playlist This Month

Spring into finals week (and the summer) by "cleaning up" your playlist

1006
views

Here are some fun, fresh new tracks to check out as you finish out the rest of the school year and help you get out of your "music comfort zone!"

“Patience” by Tame Impala 

Genre: Electronic/Alternative

Tame Impala FINALLY released new music (!!), and this track is absolutely stunning. With frontrunner Kevin Parker staying on brand with the band's psychedelic, seemingly ethereal style, it sounds like a combination of 70s soft rock and waves of modern-day electronica, with Parker's voice drifting in and out in a kind of otherworldly, mellowed-out manner.

“Harmony Hall” by Vampire Weekend 

Genre: Alternative/Indie Pop

Vampire Weekend is also releasing an album, entitled "Father of the Bride", on May 3rd. From the looks of it, this track relates to the theme of marriage/weddings present in the album's title, and it is a fun, upbeat song that I have been listening to a lot in the morning as I'm getting ready for class! Ezra Koenig's voice is so unique and can cover a broad range, and I highly recommend listening to some of the band's other work as well ("Step" from their 2013 release "Modern Vampires of the City" is one of my all-time favorite songs!).

“Ready to Let Go” by Cage the Elephant 

Genre: Alternative/Alternative Rock

So many great artists are (finally) releasing new albums this year, and Cage the Elephant falls into this category. This track is an absolute banger and doesn't stray much from the band's style in that it includes a lot of loud guitar and dynamic vocals. Like Vampire Weekend, Cage the Elephant has been around since the early 2000s, and I highly recommend checking out some of their earlier work as well (big fan of their most recent album, actually!)

“Apple Orchard” by Beach House 

Genre: Indie/Electronic

Beach House is one of my favorite bands of all time, as I find a kind of an ethereal, beautiful sadness in the dreamy style of instrumentalist Alex Scally and lucid vocals of singer Victoria Legrand. This track is from their 2006 self-titled debut and is probably one of my favorite songs they've ever released. The lyrics are poetic and perfect for the post-finals enjoyment of spring weather, in that they preach relaxation and restfulness, and the song's electronic rhythms echo the essence of spring as well. If you like this song, then I highly recommend checking out the band's other albums as well (Depression Cherry is one of my favorite albums of all time).

“April Come She Will” by Simon & Garfunkel 

Genre: 60s Pop

No spring playlist is complete without a little Simon & Garfunkel! This song is a classic, its timeless, poetic lyrics capturing the epitome of the coming of spring and all its glory. In fact, I consider the entire album (entitled Sound of Silence) to be perfect for the pleasantness and feelings of renewal/natural revitalization associated with the coming months, so be sure to give it a listen if you haven't heard it before!

Related Content

Facebook Comments