Timothée Chalamet

Wonka

A Complete Unknown

Quiet up and listen down, my dear readers, because this week is a big one for this film geek. As I gear up to watch a bunch of Best Picture nominees (that I’m honestly, already so over) in these weeks leading up to the Oscars, I wanted to explore the works of one of the best Best Actor nominees the Academy has ever failed to properly reward, someone referenced often in my blog and my social media and my sex dreams: Timothée Chalamet. If you’re like me, you’ve been on the Timothée train since that magical Winter from 2017 into 2018, when Lady Bird and Call Me By Your Name came out. I was in college, wallowing in my socially-maladapted misery, my ego bruised by a lack of friends that depleted me of my confidence and creativity. But just as my appreciation and study of film was deepening, my first-term Tr*mp-induced disillusionment with the world increasing, there was a light at the end of my depressive tunnel. As I gazed at this newcomer on the big screen—a chiseled, curly-haired, green-eyed wonder named Timothée—I thought, maybe life is gonna be okay after all. I know how dramatic that sounds, and as someone with curly hair and green eyes I know how narcissistic that sounds, but I hadn’t been this struck by an actor’s beauty since I saw Zac Efron in High School Musical 3. And beyond Timothée’s stunning, perfectly-structured face, I knew there was an overwhelming amount of talent there, too. I watched him stare into the fireplace, tears slowly forming in his eyes at the end of CMBYN, and I knew right then and there that we had a generation-defining talent on our hands. But he is, of course, so much more than a talented actor. He is a staunch, sometimes headass-ed appreciator of culture, much like myself, but his tastes and abilities vary more than the average millennial / gen z cusp Capricorn. He’s a polyglot, a comedian, a geek, a jock, a rapper, and a musician, all in one. He’s a fan of sports, of Kid Cudi, of theater and hip-hop and fashion and culture. He can be self-aware and goofy enough to embody the art-douche archetype in Greta Gerwig’s masterpiece Lady Bird and Adam McKay’s horribly-misguided satire Don’t Look Up, but bring you to tears with his earnestly heartbreaking portrayals of the wounded in Beautiful Boy and CMBYN—and somehow combine both of these personalities effortlessly in Little Women. He can be terrifying and tantalizing and completely unknowable, as he proved in The King and Bones and All, and somehow pull-off the lead role in one of the most beloved but dense sci-fi stories ever told—Dune. Timothée has the kind of star power that can make even the most mediocre or cringe media watchable—as with the hopelessly-try-hard Hot Summer Nights or the less-than-hilarious skits SNL used to give him. I’ve now seen nearly everything he’s ever been in, despite my lack of interest in some of these projects, and I would argue that his presence improves even the worst of his movies. Both of tonight’s films are evidence of this, actually, in that I had zero interest in seeing either one, but still found myself impossibly-charmed by them nonetheless. Timothée Hal Chalamet was born on December 27th, 1995 in New York City, raised in a family of fellow artists and half-Jews on the colorful streets of Hell’s Kitchen. His sister, Pauline, is also a talented actress, his mother is a former Broadway dancer, and his father is… French. He was inspired to become an actor after watching Heath Ledger’s performance in The Dark Knight, and though he attempted to attend college—two separate times—it was clear that acting would become his priority. He got his start with small roles in tv shows like Law & Order, Royal Pains, and Homeland—eventually landing a coveted spot in Christopher Nolan’s film Interstellar (a part that was cut down to practically nothing.) He starred in several films and stage plays throughout his early career, but his breakout was CMBYN, where he played the lovable lead role of Elio Perlman. Timothée already spoke English and French, but he learned Italian for this role. He also learned how to play the piano and the guitar, and he fucked a peach. Just for this one role. He is one of those rare, rare breeds of actors who is devoted but natural, studied but unpretentious, full of zestful energy but unafraid of his tenderness and sensitivity. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this kid play two roles that were alike, and each time I watch him on screen, I find something new to admire. How one man can be so tall and poised yet so lanky and awkward, command so much power on screen yet seem completely approachable and charismatic in real life—it feels like magic. I can only imagine that this is how audience-goers felt when seeing Gene Kelly or Tony Curtis or Paul Newman perform for the first time. It’s clear that I am down catastrophically bad for Mr. Chalamet (though his Twitter historian / stalker still has me beat), no matter what bizarre choices he makes in fashion or romance, so I had to officially express my love for this supreme and seismic talent—who’s just getting started. To prove my boldly-stated theory that Timothée improves every single project he signs on to, I had to bite the bullet and watch a film that I’ve been actively avoiding since it came out in 2023, this is Paul King’s film Wonka.

This prequel to Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory that absolutely no one asked for went through several iterations during its six-year-long development, with incredibly random actors like Tom Holland, Donald Glover, and Ryan Gosling initially being considered for the titular character. But Timothée ultimately won this random role, after director Paul King saw his transcendent and instantly-iconic performance in “Lil Timmy Tim: Statistics (Ms. Lawton)”, which only the true Chalamet-heads know about. The fact that this ridiculous school assignment is what got him the role is proof that Paul King gets it, and could see the star power emanating from this lil rap god. As I have stated, I did not want to see this movie. I shuddered at the thought of seeing my favorite cinematic dreamboy making puns and frolicking and doing the Charleston, or whatever nonsense he’d be forced to participate in, in this already unnecessary movie. But as I have also stated, I would do anything for this man, and I believe in his ability to make movie magic. So I dove in, headfirst and THC-heavy, to Wonka, bracing myself for every cringey facial expression and vocal progression. Wonka introduces us to a young, hot, bedroom-eyed Willy Wonka, who arrives in an ambiguously-European place after having spent the last seven years at sea, traveling the world in the name of chocolate research. Apart from Chalamet’s awe-inspiring appearance, I was immediately struck by how muted and dreary and AI-esque this cartoonish world looked. For a franchise so historically associated with vibrant colors and kooky sets, the drab production design and weak CGI felt like the first of many misses in Wonka. Young, yassified Willy has arrived, already in his trademarked costume, ready to be a successful chocolatier, completely unaware of how unattainable this goal is within the confines of capitalism and corruption. He is immediately down on his luck, and is now at the mercy of the mean Mrs. Scrubbit (Olivia Colman), who owns an oppressive boarding house that is essentially a prison. This seemed like a clear homage to original writer Roald Dahl’s distinct flavor of cruelty, which is a part of all of his children’s books. Despite the despicable Mrs. Scrubbit and the stuffy chocolatier overlords of this town known as the Chocolate Cartel, Wonka is determined to sell his magical, mythical chocolate. Apart from a young girl Wonka befriends named Noodle (Calah Lane), every single character in this film embodies the cartoonish absurdity that I expected from this classically-absurd tale. I still feel like the color grading and production design was drained of its whimsy, but its supporting cast—which includes Keegan-Michael Key, Paterson Joseph, Matt Lucas, Mathew Baynton, Jim Carter, Natasha Rothwell, Rakhee Thakrar, Rich Fulcher, Rowan Atkinson, Simon Farnaby, and Sally Hawkins—really brought the fun in a way that this movie desperately needed. Hugh Grant also plays the one, singular Oompa Loompa in this film, which really isn’t worth going into. All I will say is that everyone, including Grant himself, seemed confused by his casting, and he is the first actor who does not have dwarfism to have played this role. So that’s…interesting. So Wonka scrappily-schemes and does a little magic to make his dreams come true, dodging the dirty cops and chocolate gestapo who know that Willy’s scrumptious chocolate could take them out of business and therefore, power. It’s silly, it’s stupid, it’s sometimes sweet, but Wonka is ultimately all over the place. As I watched this film, I had several questions: where is this set? Who wrote this music? Why are none of the songs catchy beyond the one repurposed from the Gene Wilder film? How much of this is based on Roald Dahl’s book? Who put this gay little hat on my boy? Who is meeting this version of Wonka and not falling obnoxiously in love with him? And, most crucially, who, exactly, is the audience for this film? Some of these questions were answered: it's set in an unnamed European place, Neil Hannon and Joby Talbot wrote and composed the new music, most of it is not at all based on the Roald Dahl book but does make references to the Gene Wilder version—which includes this gay little hat. But what I couldn’t parse out was who this film was made for. In some senses, it follows the model of the first two films, in that it’s a kid-friendly story that happens to include dark explorations and critiques of capitalism, greed, and selfishness. But the strange edginess that marked the Wonkas of the past is nowhere to be found here. This Wonka is bright-eyed and hopeful, and lacking all mystery and contempt for bad kids. I suppose this is due to it being an origin story, but there’s also a bizarre sex appeal to this Wonka, just by virtue of who played him. And you may be thinking, “Well, duh Lili, you’re in love with this twink so of course his sexiness was your main takeaway.” But it’s more than that. There are a myriad of adult innuendos and dirty jokes sprinkled into this script—jokes about drugs and sex and uber-religious people, and Olivia Colman even says “blow me”—that come across as cheeky and comical when being delivered by any other actor involved, but when it’s Timothée? Smirking as he whispers these particularly horny innuendos while looking the way that he does? Skin shimmering, hair coiffed perfectly, eyes staring down the barrel of the camera like daggers? He could’ve said the dumbest things in this movie—and believe me, he did—and I’d still swoon. Half of the notes that I took during my viewing were of the plot and production details, and the other half of them just said “god he’s pretty”, “his hair looks incredible” and, “oh my god he’s so hot.” I’m sorry, but it was distracting! I didn’t love this movie, I’m still trying to decide if I even liked it, but it was shockingly not as bad as I’d expected. There’s some outdated, fatphobic humor, of course, some groan-inducing writing, and some appallingly-forgettable songs, but Timothée kept me watching. As miscast as Timothée seemed, director Paul King was astute enough to keep him in the frame as much as possible, and to exploit him for every ounce of innate talent, hotness, erratic energy that he could muster. They knew what they were doing when they cast him; the boy can sing and dance just as well as he can cry in front of a fire as he contemplates his whole life (which they also make him do in this movie.) I didn’t care about this movie the whole time I was watching it, and yet by the end it made me cry. That’s the power of cinema, and specifically, the power of Timothée.

It made me realize: either Timothée’s just never made a bad movie, or I can justify any bad movie if it has a hot person in it. Either way, I was pleasantly surprised by Wonka, though I doubt I’ll be watching it again. The announcement of Wonka came just two days after the death of Gene Wilder in 2016, which obviously upset many people, but when it was announced in 2020 that Timothée would be portraying Bob Dylan in James Mangold’s Dylan biopic, people were shockingly accepting for how precious people historically are about this subject. There is no such thing as a casual fan of Bob Dylan: you are either obsessed or displeased, it seems. Traditionally speaking, Bob Dylan is a mysterious, aloof, often unlikable figure within pop culture, who is also responsible for creating a good deal of said culture. He’s lived a complex and wild life, one that scholars and historians and my best music nerd friends could elaborate on more thoroughly, but my knowledge is limited. Being raised in choir my whole life, I never quite acquired a taste for Bob Dylan’s mumbling style of singing, but I always knew he was an incredible, distinct, and sometimes otherworldly writer. And while I echoed the trepidation and skepticism of my Bob Dylan-obsessed friends, I always secretly knew deep down that Timothée could pull it off. And I am happy to report that I was right! James Mangold’s A Complete Unknown transports us to New York City in 1961, and introduces us to a young, mooching, kinda odd kid named Bob Dylan. This film follows a very specific and pivotal part of Dylan’s career, when he rose to prominence then controversially “went electric”, despite the advice and wishes of his fans and folk star peers. Part of why Dylan is so hard to portray is due to his mystifying persona, crafted over the years by Dylan himself as well as those around him. I really appreciated the fact that Mangold didn’t try to bite off too much of Dylan’s multi-generation-spanning history, and instead focused on a very significant and polarizing moment in this legend’s career. It allowed for a certain level of intimacy and specificity that other biopics don’t make time for or glaze right past, in their attempts to tell a comprehensive story. Though this covers just a small chapter in Bob Dylan’s life, A Complete Unknown still provides us with an education in this mythic man’s talents, influence, and, refreshingly, his weirdness. Dylan purists tend to speak about this man as if he’s already dead and lionized and therefore, he can’t possibly be touched or scrutinized. But part of Bob Dylan’s intrigue, to this half-hearted fan, is how strange and off-putting he is. A Complete Unknown doesn’t sanitize the bizarre ways in which this man operated, the way he dominated conversations, the way he was at times self-obsessed, the way he used and abused women. It’s important to be able to critique even those whom we love and respect, because, godlike as they may be to some, people are just people and should be depicted honestly. The supporting cast of this film was impeccable here, with Edward Norton and Monica Barbaro both deservedly earning Oscar noms for their portrayals of Pete Seeger and Joan Baez, respectively. And to say nothing of Elle Fanning, Scoot McNairy, and Boyd Holbrook, who also embodied their roles with ease. This is the thing: I, like many others, am over music biopics, and biopics in general. I very seldom think about Bob Dylan, except when listening to a song that I eventually learn was written by him, or when the clip of him disassociating during the recording of “We Are the World” circulates around the internet. Only Timothée could make me give a shit about Bob Dylan, and I didn’t just give a shit, I was pretty captivated. Only an earnestly goofy, unserious yet very serious person like Timothée could pull off the daunting challenge of embodying Dylan; he seemed possessed by this man in the best way. I’m not just looking through Timmy-colored glasses, either. His presence in long, dusty films like Dune helps pique my interest, but not enough for me to necessarily care about the story. However, the hype seems earned on this one, which is a relief after worrying about how goofy Timothée would sound doing a Bob voice. And he does sound goofy because Bob sounds goofy!! Timothée’s already a younger, yassified, less-slouchy version of this legend, if he didn’t pull off that nutty little voice and deliver that wacky wisdom with gusto, none of this would’ve worked. But this worked for me! The Bob Dylan stans in my life approved of it, which was all that I cared about, but I actually ended up liking it too! As much as I can like a reliably-corny music biopic about a mumbly madman I have little connection to. But Timothée made me a believer, per usual. K*rd*shi*n curse be damned—this boy is a star! A Complete Unknown has received eight Oscar nominations this year, including Best Picture, and Timothée is nominated for Best Actor for the first time since CMBYN. [He’s also the twelfth person to receive an Oscar nom for playing a real-life Oscar nominee/winner, and only the second actor to play the lead in multiple Best Picture nominees within the same year.] There’s no telling who will win what, especially as tensions rise among some of the other nominees, but dare I say, we are so back? After some random footnotes in Timothée’s career (including his attempt at Wonka) Timothée is being praised and recognized for his hard work, and in an awards year where many of the movies do not excite me, I’m positively giddy for Timmy. Thank you for reading along, my fellow Chalamet-heads, and thank you, Lil Timmy Tim, for your bold and bewitching contributions to the arts. Tune in next week for the actual start of my 2025 Oscars Best Picture nominee coverage, where I’ll be doing the bravest thing possible: watching movies I really don’t want to see. Ttyl! :)