Just rewatched Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (1971) and am firmer than ever in my conviction—seeded by an old friend—that it is one of the greatest modern myths. It’s a soteriological story—it’s about God’s search for Man. Shall we have a thread?

First, a bit of context—at the Temple of Apollo at Delphi one was instructed:

Know thyself.
Nothing to excess.

These can be summed up as "Observe the measure." The theme of moderation vs. intemperate indulgence will come up again and again in this film.

We should also note that initiation into the Mysteries, such as those at Eleusis, was not a just a catechumenate in the sense of doctrines being discursively imparted and agreed to. Things were "shown," "said," and "acted"—and you came away with whatever you came away with.

Now let's begin. In the film's first song, Bill the candy store owner tells us about the Candy Man. This is our first intimation that the title character is divine: "...and the world tastes good because the Candy Man thinks it should." Bill is sort of an "outside man" for God.

Throughout the first half of the film, we get to know Charlie and his family. They are poor: Charlie works a paper route after school; his mother washes clothes; and his grandparents, including his favorite, Grandpa Joe, are bedridden. His father is absent.

Charlie walks past the Wonka Factory gates on his way home one day, and the Tinker with his cart of meat cleavers balances our wonder at Wonka with fear in what is certainly the most ominous scene of the film.

"Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushing glen,
We dare not go a-hunting,
For fear of little men.

You see, nobody ever goes in, and nobody ever comes out."

The Tinker, too, is an emissary, like Bill. He does not give a clear-cut doctrine, but speaks to whose ears will listen.

We learn that after an attempted theft by competitor Slugworth, Wonka shut the factory gates and hasn't opened them since. The Mysteries are inaccessible—

—until now! We get news of five golden tickets now circulating among the world's Wonka bars. The lucky recipients of these tickets will be admitted entry to the Mysteries. Well of course everyone wants to find one, eager for the exoteric experience & unaware of the deeper meaning

At this point we get some of the funniest scenes in the movie, illustrating the absurd degree of fanaticism with which even adults are seeking out a golden ticket. And of course kids, the intended recipients, start actually finding them—but we'll talk about them later.

What's important at this stage in the story is that Charlie has the least means of finding a golden ticket of anyone he knows, yet he is the most deserving of it—as even he himself states, he wants it more than anybody.

How can we tell he is the most deserving of the Mysteries? Well, for one thing, Charlie never becomes arrogant or entitled. He doesn't resort to theft, which he would have to, in order to buy up a ton of Wonka bars and go mad unwrapping like so many others are seen doing.

Charlie, like many would-be initiates across the world's traditions, will thrice enter and be twice turned away. Even after the second time, he accepts his loss.

"You know, I'll bet those golden tickets make the chocolate taste terrible."

When he seems on the brink of despair, it is his hard-working mother who sings his consolation. When he asks her when things will change, when they'll get better for them, she tells him, "Probably when you least expect it." Still Charlie remains good, doesn't get hardened.

Now we get news that the last golden ticket has been found in Paraguay. The search is over. In class, Charlie's humility is illustrated once again as he reveals that he only had two Wonka bars during the worldwide quest for the tickets, to the stupefaction of even his teacher.

After class, Charlie finds a bit of money in a storm drain—and what does he do with it? Why, he goes and buys another Wonka bar! This will not be the last time Charlie humbly makes an offering to God regardless of reward, accepting his seeming fate not to win.

Worth noting here is that at first he buys a Scrumdidilyumptious Bar, but in a moment of reflection decides to get another, "for my Grandpa Joe." Bill suggests a regular Wonka Bar this time and gives him the one that happens to face out.

Then Charlie leaves and gets the news.

So the first two bars were gifts from Grandpa Joe, and the third is intended as a gift back. Well, now Charlie's learnt there's still a chance at the last golden ticket, and he has nothing to lose. When he could have despaired, he was selfless—and behold the wages of virtue!

After he is jostled through the crowd at the newsstand, Charlie's kindly employer, Mr. Jopeck, urges him home, and off he runs, gleaming with joy. Almost home, he encounters the same strange man who had been seen talking to each of the other four golden ticket winners.

Introducing himself as Wonka's infamous rival, Slugworth, he offers Charlie a handsome reward for betrayal of the Mysteries. All he has to do is give Slugworth an Everlasting Gobstopper, and he and his family will be set for life. Charlie says nothing and flees from temptation.

Once he's home & his family process the news, Grandpa Joe, now tasked with accompanying Charlie to the factory, is revived from his twenty-year torpor. The positive masculine, thus far uncertain compared to the positive feminine in his mother, is reawakened in Charlie's life.

Charlie is still disturbed by the spectre of Slugworth and the temptation he represents, and confides this in Grandpa Joe. Even on the big day, Charlie notices him and points him out to Joe. But soon all eyes are on Wonka, who is now emerging to greet the new initiands.

At this point we are halfway through the movie, and it's here that I'm going to stop for the night. We'll pick things up right here tomorrow. I'll leave you for now with Gene Wilder's condition for taking the role, which reveals that he understood what it meant to be Willy Wonka.

Alright, so we're at the factory gates and here is Wonka to greet the five children and their accompanying family. From the beginning Wonka establishes his method: from this point on, he will continue to play tricks, and only the corrupt will find any harm in them.

As he greets each of his new guests, each gives an indication of his or her character. Yet Wonka is totally unfazed, and says only good things to each—it will be up to them to disprove them. He gives all the benefit of the doubt, and holds all equally to the contract.

Do you see? God comes to the soul as a beggar—it is our disposition, not that of the gods, that decides our relationship with them. Here's Simone Weil—keep in mind the little seed, the pomegranate seed given to Persephone by Hades:

After the signing of the contract & a few more tricks, Wonka opens the next door with a musical lock. Note how Mrs. Teevee tries to look smart by saying "Rachmaninoff" after Wonka plays a line from Mozart's Marriage of Figaro. Some are teachable; others are too quick to speak.

Wonka now leads the initiands into the Chocolate Room, and invites them to enjoy it. He announces himself in song as νοῦς, as Divine Mind: his world is that of "pure imagination."

For all the fruits of the divine imagination which make up the world, there is a measure. Each is to be enjoyed in its place and not to excess. Wonka himself observes this, sipping from his flower-cup before knocking it back and taking a moderate bite from it.

Well, Augustus Gloop won't observe the measure. Rather than wait for a taste of the waters of Mnemosyne, of Memory, he loses himself in his gluttony and falls into the river of Lethe, of Forgetfulness. He will be reincarnated—that is, he'll have to try again next time.

Wonka seems to mock at Mrs. Gloop's alarm—really he's acting as a mirror for her folly & that of her son. She is led away & we get our first Oompa Loompas' song. They are a chorus of angels, instructing us that if we observe the measure, we too can be happy in the service of God.

Now Wonka switches to French—let him hear who has ears to hear—and invites his remaining guests aboard the Wonkatania. On the ride through the tunnel they will be afraid of what they see as Wonka sings another mystical song. Note his retort to Violet after she disses spitting.

While everyone is seeing things in the darkness that disturb them, what does Charlie see? While the others are grossed out by bugs and the like, Charlie is only shown noticing one thing that makes him cry out to Grandpa Joe.

It is the image of Slugworth. Do you see now how pure of heart Charlie is? The thing that truly disturbs him is not some carrion, some physical sickness—it is his temptation to be dishonest. What frightens Charlie most is the prospect of going against his virtue.

Now Wonka and his guests have arrived at the Inventing Room—that is, they have taken the psychopomp's barque to the Underworld. Here we will stop again for the night, to resume our journey tomorrow. Thank you for joining us so far.

At the doors of the Inventing Room, Wonka switches now to German—and it is only because the group no longer contains any German speakers that this makes any sense. Wonka is a master of arcana—he conceals (to the whole) so that he may reveal (to the part that will listen).

If the Chocolate Room was the "nerve center"—the head and the heart—then the Inventing Room is the stomach of the mystical body. It is here that things are being evaluated according to taste, according to "gut feeling"—tested and refined in the workshop of the soul.

Wonka once again demonstrates moderation and soundness of judgment—tasting here, adding things there—in order to bring each recipe to its telos. The guests would be happy to try any of these once packaged and shipped—it is the strangeness of God's ways that takes them aback.

One machine in this room is most important—the one that makes the Everlasting Gobstopper. This is the seed we discussed earlier with Simone Weil—it is the seed of divine grace which takes root in us if only we will receive it. It's the true central object of the entire tour.

Wonka offers one to each of the initiands. Please note each of their reactions when you watch the movie again—and note that Charlie is the last to receive one, seemingly almost passed over.

He asks them to swear loyalty, not to share the secret of the Mysteries with anyone.

Now the guests are taken over to a machine which processes an entire three-course dinner into a piece of chewing gum. Note that Wonka appears to have forgotten where the switch is—and it is Charlie who points it out to him. Charlie craves the Good.

Well, if Augustus' sin was gluttony, Violet's is pride. Pride of place. Naturally she, a record-breaking chewing-gum afficionada, has every right to try the gum despite being cautioned that it has not been perfected. Once again the rule of three—it's the third course does her in.

Now the chorus of Oompa Loompas break into song again, extolling the virtues of moderate gum-chewing but warning against excess. Intemperance distorts the human image: Augustus was compared to an elephant, Violet to a cow.

"Where is fancy bred? In the heart, or in the head? Shall we roll on?"

Wonka now invites his guests to try the lickable wallpaper. To do so is to be childlike—Snozzberries!—to strip away false consciousness & make oneself receptive to Grace.

"We are the music-makers..."

Next we arrive at the Fizzy Lifting Room, where Wonka warns the guests that Fizzy Lifting Drinks, like the dinner-gum, haven't been perfected. Here it is Charlie and Grandpa Joe who succumb to temptation. But let's note a few things that make their case distinct from the others.

First, Charlie doesn't disobey of his own accord like the others did—he only does so at the suggestion of Grandpa Joe. Charlie is so good that only his trust in his grandfather could make him consider such a thing. It doesn't seem to occur to him that GJ could steer him wrong.

What does it mean to be gassed up, flying high? Why, Charlie is getting a taste of hubris. One way to be bad is to think you're too good. This takes place in Wonka's absence, because it is a lesson for Charlie to learn on his own (GJ can be thought of here as a part of Charlie).

And how do Charlie and Grandpa Joe get out of this situation? They return to the gut, and to childishness—they must burp their way down from the dangerous heights. They learn their lesson—they restore themselves, not having to be taken off to another room and leave the journey.

Now they catch up with the others, where Wonka shows them the Geese That Lay the Golden Eggs. Here are the bowels of the mystical body, where good and bad are properly sorted. Good eggs get shipped out and sent all over the world; bad eggs are disposed of.

Well, Veruca is a bad egg, and so is her father. She is possessed by wrath, throughout the film threatening to scream if she doesn't get her way. Her father fails to observe the measure as a parent. GJ remarks that "Mr. Salt finally got what he wanted ... Veruca went first."

The Oompa Loompas once again remind us of the Delphic maxims, cautioning us that "blaming the kids is a lie and a shame"; "the mother and the father" are to blame for not disciplining their children. Veruca too is compared to an animal: "pampered and spoiled like a Siamese cat."

Now the remaining guests are taken aboard the Wonkamobile. "A thing of beauty is a joy forever."

Note that Mike Teevee asks his mother if Slugworth would pay extra for information about this machine. Total contrast with Charlie's flight from the temptation to disloyalty.

Suds now begin to come out from every seam, nook, cranny, and spout of the Wonkamobile—a ritual purification. This is made even clearer when all are dried clean. Note that Charlie and GJ find the whole thing quite fun—a soul oriented toward the Good is happy to be made pure.

We disembark from the Wonkamobile to be introduced to Wonkavision—that is, to the theatre. Wonka demonstrates how a Wonka bar can be broken up into a million little pieces for broadcast—torn apart, as was Dionysus, as are we when we immerse ourselves in a theatrical performance.

Well, Mike can't help but be torn apart too, like Orpheus when he shunned the worship of his patron Dionysus. Mike's sin is sloth: he is intellectually and spiritually lazy, allowing his mind to be dominated by media. His body is made small to match his atrophied soul.

Now the Oompa Loompas return to song, instructing us to prefer the meditative experience of reading over numbing our minds with TV: "You'll get no commercials." Mike isn't compared to an animal, because his condition is uniquely human and ultimately (post)modern.

Now it's just Charlie & Grandpa Joe left, at the door to Wonka's office. Charlie is of such character as to ask what will happen to the other children—Wonka reassures him that they will be restored, & then seems to dismiss the two as he has much work to do. The true test is nigh.

Grandpa Joe insists on going in after Wonka to find out what's going on. We now see that in Wonka's office everything is cut in half—the world is bifurcated to us, and when we sit down to do our usual work we tend to do so under the illusion of duality.

Upon questioning, Wonka informs GJ that Charlie doesn't get the lifetime supply of chocolate, because he broke the rules. He quotes the contract to them, cites the Fizzy Lifting Drinks. By the letter of the law, Charlie is disqualified.

Note that Wonka's anger is directed at Grandpa Joe, not at Charlie. Grandpa Joe is sort of the "fall guy" for Charlie, his adult advocate. Grandpa Joe is of course incensed, and as he leaves says "If Slugworth wants a Gobstopper, he'll get one." Here Charlie shines most of all.

Charlie walks up—"Mr. Wonka"—and places the EG on Wonka's desk. Once again, when he could have been bitter, he instead accepts his fate and makes an offering. Remember that Slugworth's offer was specifically to help Charlie's family—but even that isn't worth turning against God.

Wonka once again quotes The Merchant of Venice (with a slight alteration) as he places his hand over the EG: "So shines a good deed in a weary world."

This was the true test, and Charlie passed. "Charlie ... my boy ... You won!"

The Letter killeth, but the Spirit giveth life.

Wonka introduces Mr. Wilkinson—the Devil, "Slugworth," is really an agent of God! Even as Seth accompanies Ra against the serpent Apep, so Wonka is protected against betrayal.

Charlie has won—won what, exactly, GJ asks? "The jackpot, my dear sir, the grand and glorious jackpot."

Wonka takes Charlie and Grandpa Joe aboard the Wonkavator, to ascend with him and take part in the glory of God, to be granted a place among the spirits of the blessed.

"I am a child of Earth and Starry Sky; but my race is of Heaven alone."

Note that Charlie is the one who presses the button to take them up. They look down on Charlie's town, and Charlie doesn't feel haughty but happy to look upon it from a height. The whole of his life as a poor boy is redeemed in his salvation.

Wonka explains to Charlie that he had to find "a very honest, loving child" to inherit his factory, because only one of childlike faith and devotion can be a good steward of divine wealth. And his whole family are welcome; they are all redeemed by Charlie's unfailing love.

Charlie is the soul of the triumphant initiate, united with God in loving embrace.

"But Charlie ... don't forget what happened to the man who suddenly got everything he always wanted."

"What happened?"

"He lived happily ever after."

Thank you very much for reading. I urge you all to go and rewatch this movie with these things in mind. I think you will find, as I have, that it is truly a perfect story.