Producers: Steve Pegram and Leyla Hobart   Director: Sam Fell and Jeffrey Newitt   Screenplay: Karey Kirkpatrick, John O’Farrell and Rachel Tunnard   Cast: Thandiwe Newton, Bella Ramsey, Zachary Levi, Imelda Staunton, Lynn Ferguson, Jane Horrocks, David Bradley, Romesh Ranganathan, Daniel Mays, Josie Sedgwick-Davies, Peter Serafinowicz, Nick Mohammed and Miranda Richardson   Distributor: Netflix

Grade: B

Back in 2000, Britain’s Aardman Studios, the masters of Claymation who gave the world Wallace & Gromit and Shaun the Sheep, made their first feature “Chicken Run,” a takeoff on “The Great Escape” featuring hens, a rooster and an evil chicken farmer that became an enormous international success.  Now after twenty-three years they return with a follow-up featuring many of the same characters, though only a few of the original voice cast. 

This time the inspiration is “Mission: Impossible”—Harry Gregson-Williams’ score briefly cites its theme to emphasize the point.  A prologue shows a sweet but rambunctious little chick bursting out of her eggshell, the daughter of Rocky (voiced by Zachary Levi, replacing Mel Gibson) and Ginger (Thandiwe Newton, replacing Julia Sawalha).  Molly (Bella Ramsey), as they call her, grows up happy and loved on the secluded island where the chicken community lives in contentment after escaping the farm of cruel Mrs. Tweedy (returnee Miranda Richardson); their only visitors are Nick (Romesh Ranganathan) and Fetcher (Daniel Mays) a pair of rats who occasionally deliver supplies from the mainland. 

Her parents, and everyone else, are extremely protective of Molly, but she grows up to be an adventurous, independent-minded adolescent, with a streak of curiosity that encourages a yearning to learn about the outside world.  Ginger and Rocky try to squelch it, but she’s fascinated when trucks are spied on the mainland advertising a place called Fun-Land Farms, bearing the image of a happy chicken popping its head out of a bucket, and she goes off to investigate.  She meets Frizzle (Josie Sedgwick-Davies), a scatterbrained young chicken determined to find the farm—“What chicken doesn’t want a bucket?” she says—and joins her on the quest. 

Meanwhile Ginger, who had advised the community to hunker down and hide, now enlists a crew to go to the mainland and find Molly.  So off go she, Rocky, waspish Bunty (Imelda Staunton), nerdy Mac (Lynn Ferguson) and dopey Babs (Jane Horrocks), along with Molly’s “uncles” Nick and Fetcher; old Fowler (David Bradley), a former RAF mascot who never tires of talking at length about his military credentials, is tasked with preparing an escape route.

Of course the farm turns out to be a factory where chickens are brought, brainwashed into believing the place is a paradise, and fattened up in preparation for being processed into nuggets.  The fearsome operation is run by none other than the murderous Mrs. Tweedy and her nerdy scientist husband Dr. Fry (Nick Mohammed), with their product intended for the Sir Eat-a-Lot restaurants owned by snooty Reginald Smith (Peter Serafinowicz).

The interlopers led by Ginger succeed in rescuing Molly, but then resolve to go back and save the rest of the chickens, including Frizzle.  Naturally the trio of screenwriters–Karey Kirkpatrick, John O’Farrell and Rachel Tunnard—contrive a host of obstacles for them to overcome, including plenty of missteps by overconfident Rocky and the capture of Ginger by the evil Tweedy.  But rest assured they emerge triumphant.  More important than the plot, though, are the witty characterizations and the stream of jokes, most invested with a deliciously British sense of humor that enlivens the dialogue. (Loquacious Fowler’s encounter with a snail is a good example.)

The fine voice work is complemented by visuals that, with the delightfully unfinished look characteristic of Aardman’s stop-motion work, is always a joy, particularly when one considers the Aar-duous, time-consuming, labor-intensive patience required to achieve it.  Every production from the studio, whether a short or a feature, is clearly a labor of love, and one would be remiss not to mention the efforts of production designer Darren Dubicki, animation supervisors Ian Whitlock and Loyd Price, effects supervisor Jon Biggins, and cinematographer Charles Copping.  Director Sam Fell and editor Stephen Perkins bring in the picture at a typically unrushed ninety-eight minutes, giving one time to appreciate every cheeky verbal and visual gag.                              

Though like most follow-ups it doesn’t quite match the fun of the original, “Nugget” is an amusingly droll sequel that fans will enthusiastically welcome, especially after nearly a quarter-century wait.  

Producers: David Heyman, Alexandra Derbyshire and Luke Kelly   Director: Paul King   Screenplay: Simon Farnaby and Paul King   Cast: Timothée Chalamet, Calah Lane, Keegan-Michael Key, Paterson Joseph, Matt Lucas, Mathew Baynton, Sally Hawkins, Rowan Atkinson, Jim Carter, Olivia Colman, Hugh Grant, Natasha Rothwell, Rich Fulcher, Rakhee Thakrar, Tom Davis and Kobna Holdbrook-Smith   Distributor: Warner Bros.

Grade: B

Roald might not have written it, but Paul King and Simon Farnaby have tried to approximate the Dahl tone in “Wonka,” their prequel to “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.”  Doubtless the result is sweeter than Dahl would have preferred, but that’s to be expected from the makers of the “Paddington” pictures, and if it endows the movie with more charm than spikiness, that’s not entirely a bad thing;  Tim Burton’s version of “Charlie” went too far in the other direction.

Charm, in fact, is the essence of the take on the young Willy Wonka by Timothée Chalamet, who captures the naiveté of the character King and Farnaby have created quite perfectly.  This isn’t the jaded, manipulative Wonka of Dahl’s book, or of the film adaptations of it by Mel Stuart and Burton, but a more ebullient (and likable) fellow.  Purists may object to the reimagining, wondering how Chalamet’s tender-hearted Wonka could possibly mature into the oddball one played by Gene Wilder and Johnny Depp (though with Wilder, there was a suggestion that his abstraction and shortness of temper were at least partially poses; Depp, on the other hand, was genuinely creepy, complete with a Burton-born backstory about how he’d been mistreated by his father, a dentist played by Christopher Lee.). 

But if you’re willing to accept this view of an eternally hopeful, utterly honest twenty-something Willy, no one could inhabit him better.  With his infectious smile, Chalamet projects inexhaustible energy; he also exhibits an agreeable if limited singing voice and considerable dance skill, both required in what is, after all, a musical with new numbers by Neil Hannon that are amiable if not memorable.  (Recycling “Pure Imagination” and “Oompa Loompa” from the 1971 score by Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley helps, though one might regret room was not also found for “The Candy Man.”)

As noted, the Willy Wonka introduced here is a gentle, simple soul who arrives in the big city, capital of the candy world, with the dream of setting up a shop where he’ll sell the unique, scrumptious delicacies he’s perfected in seven years of global travel.  Brought up to love chocolate by his late, loving mother (Sally Hawkins), he comes bearing her recipe secrets and his own, with only one lingering problem, as we will eventually learn—a strange little man called Lofty (Hugh Grant, miniaturized as an Oompa Loompa), who periodically raids Wonka’s room to carry off his confections, for what he argues are good and defensible reasons.

But Willy soon has more serious difficulties.  Denuded of his modest bankroll by a series of grifts and gifts, he’s fooled into signing himself into indentured servitude by his Dickensian landlady Mrs. Scrubbit (Olivia Colman) and her burly henchman Bleacher (Tom Davis) and made to toil in her underground laundry alongside her other duped victims—accountant Abacus Crunch (Jim Carter), plumber Piper Benz (Natasha Rothwell), telephone operator Lottie Bell (Rakhee Thakrar) and woebegone comic Larry Chucklesworth (Rich Fulcher).  They, and Scrubbit’s sweet, clever “adopted” servant Noodle (Calah Lane), prove instrumental in helping Willy outwit the “Chocolate Cabal”—Slugworth (Paterson Joseph), Prodnose (Matt Lucas) and Fickelgruber (Mathew Bayntron)—who, with the connivance of the crooked police chief (Keegan-Michael Key) and the equally corrupt cleric (Rowan Atkinson) presiding over the cathedral, its company of chocoholic monks, and a storehouse of chocolate beneath the building, scheme to prevent Wonka from plying his trade, sabotage his amazing store when it does open, and finally try to do away with him entirely.  In doing so the heroic band use laundry baskets, sewer tunnels, and even a giraffe absconded from the zoo.

There are elements of the plot that one might wish had been jettisoned, or at least attenuated.  Tricking Scrubbit into believing that Bleacher is a member of the Bavarian nobility, for example, is an amusing idea but overextended, and the “death by chocolate” finale is one of those cases in which bigger is not necessarily better.  And the running gag about the police chief growing more and more bulbous as he scarfs down the chocolates the Cartel gives him as bribes runs out of gas—though part of the problem is simply that Key isn’t terribly funny.  One might also protest that Atkinson, one of Britain’s crown jewels of slapstick, isn’t given enough to do, and that Joseph’s villainy is rather one-note.    

On the other hand, there’s much to enjoy here—Chalamet to start with, but also the sympathetic, engaging Lane and Wonka’s other confederates, led by the always estimable Carter.  Add to them the small (in every sense) turn by Grant, who puts his special talent for frowns and superciliousness—the very things that made his turn in “Paddington 2” so delightful—to excellent effect as the diminutive Lofty.  (The only complaint about him is that in long shots the character isn’t very well realized.) 

But that’s a rare defect in the effects supervised by Graham Page, which otherwise, together with Nathan Crowley’s splendidly over-the-top production design and Lindy Hemming’s colorful costumes, create a cornucopia of visual delights captured brightly in Chung-hoon Chung’s vibrant cinematography.  Recognition is also due Christopher Gattelli’s sprightly choreography, especially in the exuberant ensembles that Matthew Hannam’s editing allows us to appreciate in full image by not overcutting them into bits and pieces, and Joby Talbert’s background score, which meshes well with the songs.

“Wonka” may lack that ultimate dose of magic that makes for an enduring screen classic, but in its old-fashioned way it still provides an ample supply of good cheer.  And it proves that Timothée Chalamet, in addition to his proven talent for drama and comedy, is also a pretty fair song-and-dance man.