doompa dee doo

As ghostgecko pointed out, most of Tim Burton's movies are in some way autobiographical. So I can only assume this scenario:
Tim Burton was a brilliant and inventive filmmaker, but he got frustrated because all of his movies were co-opted by Hot Topic and copycat filmmakers, so he stopped making films. One day, he announced that he would be making a new film, and he also announced that he'd send out five purple-and-black tickets in copies of "Nightmare Before Christmas." Five lucky Goth children would get to tour his studio. Naturally, four of the children are decapitated, turned into dolls, eaten by monsters, or trapped in a snowglobe. Danny Elfman pops up and sings at them while they get cartoonishly mutilated.
What, this didn't happen? Well, fuck you, it did in my imagination.
I'm going to go on for a bit about "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" because I feel like it and I don't have any personal life to talk about right now. When I saw "Hitchhiker's," I didn't talk about it because my dad's wedding rather overshadowed it (for those who are curious as to what I thought of it, I enjoyed it as soon as I decided that not only was the plot a different version, but so were the characters. I wasn't very impressed, though).
Anyway, I rather think the book version of Willy Wonka would fall somewhere between Gene Wilder's mischevious, avuncular version and Johnny Depp's childish, neurotic version. Of course, I never saw Willy Wonka as a human character, strictly--my impression of the book version was that he was almost a force of nature, or a sprite or wizard.
The kids were very well done. One thing that puzzles me in the original was that, for the most part, the kids weren't that bad, besides Veruca Salt. Augustus Gloop was fat, true, but who else was he hurting by scarfing down chocolate? (Of course, he could have been one of those nasty fat kids who sits on other kids in the playground and takes their candy...but Dahl never said anything about it.) Still, gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins, and Augustus is still going to have a heart attack before he finishes high school. (And it's not as though it's difficult to make fun of fat kids.)
Violet Beauregard's original sin was merely the chewing of gum in public, which ranks right up there with, oh, tuneless humming and cracking one's knuckles. Annoying, but not terrible, and she was fairly spunky in the original. And Mike Teavee always struck me as just a hyperactive and overimaginative kid (yes, overimaginative, even though he watched a ton of TV. Honestly, it's not that TV in itself rots the brain, it's just that bad entertainment in general rots the brain, and there's very little good TV. One hour of House (which I missed yesterday, dammit!) is far better for the psyche than a Danielle Steele book, and a couple episodes of Futurama are much better than a whole late-era Heinlein book). The way their personalities and nastiness was fleshed out in the new movie were not only excellent reflections of modern childen, but actually fit the characters. (ETA: Read Lew's essay about the kids, it's thought-provoking.)
Tim--howzabout you do "Great Glass Elevator" next? Space hotels! The president's nursemaid! Minusland, I'd love to see what he'd do with Minusland...and the Vermicious Knids. Vermicious Knids! VERMICIOUS KNIDS! Just say that a few times, out loud. You know what, I'm already making this movie in my head. And it's really fucking good.

Actually, I'd love to see someone make a movie out of "The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar." For those of you who aren't acquainted with Roald Dahl's adult stories, this is a short story about a wealthy git who learns how to see through walls through ancient secrets of yoga, and uses this gift to cheat at cards in casinos. I can't remember how it ends, unfortunately, probably because I haven't read it in several years. I must find the book it's in.
And I have no doubt that someone is going to make a movie out of "Danny, Champion of the World" eventually. It's just too good not to be a heartwarming Disney movie, and I'll go see it and bitch about the computer-animated pheasants and the love interest they shoehorned in. Because Disney will so do that unless someone else gets their hands on it first.

New books I got:
"Silent Bob Speaks," by Kevin Smith. This is not of any particular interest to people who aren't already Kevin Smith fans; most of the book is a collection of columns he wrote about the making of Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, but there are a few fairly funny, unrelated essays at the back, including a behind-the-scenes look at comic conventions, the story of Walt Flanagan and why he's so important, and a wankfest over Ben Affleck. It's kind of scary how much Kevin likes Ben. (Must resist urge to write RPS...I don't even think Affleck's that interesting.) The writing style is exactly the same as in his weblog, except without the somewhat frightening information that Jason Mewes is allowed to be around children.
"Coma," by Alex Garland. He got his brother to illustrate it, which I think is nice. This book is minimalist and quietly creepy, and I really like it. Worth the thirteen bucks. I recommend it to everyone.

Books I didn't get:
The new Chuck Klosterman book, the title of which I forgot. "Fargo Rock City" was cool, "Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs" was very entertaining, and this one is mostly about his ex-girlfriends. I don't really want to read about anyone's ex-girlfriends, honestly. Not even my own. Sad thing is that I was looking forward to this.
"Dance of Death," because they still don't have it, despite the electronic catalogue saying "SIX COPIES IN STORE." Maybe someone stuffed them into the romance section?

Books I'm going to get:
"Clowns of Death: A History of Oingo Boingo." I ordered this, and it's coming in a few days. I am most excited.
A ton of William Sleator books. Ordered these also. I need to send some of y'all a copy of "The Green Futures of Tycho." It's out of print, though. If you see "The Green Futures of Tycho" at a bookstore, pick it up immediately and keep it for yourself. This is the first time-travel book I ever read, and it's one of the best time-travel books I've ever read, be it though for Young Adults. Much gushing for William Sleator.
The Blossom Culp series, by Richard Peck, as well as some other Richard Peck books. These are for my mom's classroom, although they're secretly so that I can re-read them all for myself. Excellent satire of adolescent society, more spot-on than any other author I've read. I particularly recommend "Bel-Air Bambi and the Mallrats," which has nothing to do with the Kevin Smith movie.
A biography of Nick Drake. I adore Nick Drake and I wish I was friends with him, but he's dead. His songs are terribly pretty and soft and sad. For some reason, shy, gentle, depressed artists with low self-esteem make my otherwise nonexistent protective instincts kick in. (Which is rather a laugh, because I can barely protect myself.)
"Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince." Dad says it's cheaper at CostCo, although I fear somewhat that I'll have to buy six shrink-wrapped copies. I can wait.

One more thing...
Happy Birthday to ghostgecko!
I wish you happiness, attractive albino male strippers, and sugar-free chocolate cupcakes with purple sprinkles on top.