We booked tickets to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory at the Imax last night. I’d not been there since I was sitting through a presentation and the guy two down the row from me had a fit. Very scary. Particularly for Melvyn - between me and the convulsing man - who was on his first day back at work after his mum had died.

So, Paul came to meet me at work, and we went for Dim Sum and Edamame, then walked down to Waterloo by way of the Apple Store, which Paul hadn’t seen before. We wandered up and down the million-pound staircase, then continued our fast stride across the city. It took a lot longer than I’d anticipated. 40 minutes, all told, which is far longer than it takes me to walk from the office to Westminster, which is almost all the way there.

The film, though, was fantastic. Loud. Colourful. Loads of funny bits.

It opens with a thumping swoop through the factory, twirling you in and out of the chocolate making machines as they wrap up the bars, five of them with their magical golden tickets. It really helped watching it on such a big screen, although the picture was far more square than in a regular cinema, so I’d guess the version we saw was closer to the ratio of the film you’d see on TV than in most cinemas.

The sound was excellent, and the soundtrack itself sounded like it was recorded by the same guy who did Mars Attacks, which would make sense.

It was a shame they’d Americanised it. So many of the accents were British (actually, English rather than British) yet the currency they used was American, and they talked about Candy rather than Chocolate (although, strangely enough, the credits were distinctly for a Chocolate Factory). I’m guessing it was an American print, though; there was no BBFC certificate, and some of the trailers had American ratings on them, rather than British.

There were some clever bits, like the way that the scene where they send the chocolate bar by TV has it ending up inside the film 2001, in place of the monolith, and the way the TV reporters who came to interview the winners each has subtle but highly recognisable national stereotypes to their characters. But at the same time there were some equally poor choices, like picking Helena Bonham Carter to play Charlie’s mother. She was totally unsuited to the role, and as unconvincing as ever.

Overall, though, a massive thumbs-up. I’d go and see it again, especially at the Imax.

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