Matilda the Musical

Year of release: 2022.                     Directed by Matthew Warchus.                 Starring Alisha Weir, Emma Thompson, Lashana Lynch, Stephen Graham, and Andrea Riseborough.

The two most important songs in Matilda the Musical are “When I Grow Up” and “My House.” Thankfully, in Matthew Warchus’ adaptation of the stage show he directed, those songs are beautifully filmed and performed, packing the emotional wallop they should.

Unfortunately, other than those two tearjerker moments, the emotional stakes are shockingly low, as this watered down version of Roald Dahl’s book and its musical adaptation receives a functional film adaptation. To be clear, nailing the two aforementioned songs places Matilda the Musical a league ahead of Rob Marshall’s disastrous dismantling of Nine, but several leagues behind Spielberg’s brilliant cinematic re-envisioning of West Side Story.

As to other recent Broadway adaptations, I preferred The Prom and Into the Woods, but Matilda over Les Misérables and obviously Dear Evan Hansen (though in the case of the latter, much of the fault lies with the equally offensive stage show).

I think most readers know that I love musicals and am deeply familiar with many of them. However, I know Matilda the Musical better than most shows, not only having seen it, but also having accompanied and directed the pit for a 2020 community theater production. (FWIW, I also read Dahl’s novel as a child but never saw the 1996 film.)

It’s an overused truism that what works on stage doesn’t work on film, and vice versa, but Warchus’ directing, which brilliantly created Dahl’s world of wonder and terror through a child’s eye on stage, feels sadly unimaginative on film. (It’s much better than Phyllida Lloyd’s attempt at recreating her stage direction of Mamma Mia! in the 2008 film adaptation, but that’s not a high bar.)

For instance, take the opening song, “Miracle.” The vibrant colors of the hospital as parents croon over their newborn infants feels like something out of a Dr. Seuss story, but the Wormwood’s home, Ms. Phelps’ traveling library are not much different. Even the supposedly intimidating school run by the sadistic Miss Trunchbull looks like a drabber version of the same thing. Given Tim Burton’s streak of misfires over the past decade, I won’t say Matilda the Musical would have been better had he directed it, but even at his worst, it would certainly have looked better.

Speaking of Burton and musicals, say what you want about the singing and cutting down of the score, but his Sweeney Todd captured a gothic Victorian world much better than Warchus’ very cheerful, brightly colored palette captures any of Dahl’s world, which is equal parts menace and wonder.

As to the staging of the numbers, there’s no consistency at all. “Miracle” welcomes us to a show about admiring parents as contrasted with the neglect and abuse of Matilda Wormwood at the hands of her parents. Eventually, it breaks into a fantasy performance complete with sequined costumes and microphones, not that different than Roxie’s fantasies in Marshall’s adaptation of Chicago. Then, Matilda’s “I want” song, “Naughty,” takes place as a dance across her home as if it’s happening in her world and not some imaginary fantasy. There is nothing wrong with either approach, but nearly every song shifts from one to the other. It’s sloppy and undermines the poignancy of Tim Minchin’s score (which is very good).

Perhaps Warchus was trying to set up the mix of childhood dreams versus realities that occurs in “When I Grow Up,” which is the heart of the show. As the children leave school after a day of witnessing horrific child abuse (more on that in a moment), they dream of the world as it is and as they know it should be. This is the strongest number in both the stage show and the film, and their naïve dreams of adulthood are effectively moving in their innocence, sense of wonder, and hope of escape.

As to the child abuse itself, the film is rated PG for “exaggerated bullying,” which initially seemed like an odd euphemism to describe the physical and psychological torture of children that Dahl wrote, but it’s really not inaccurate. As Miss Trunchbull, Emma Thompson is strangely miscast, and the sadistic headmistress is so unhinged that it is obvious from the beginning Matilda is going to get the best of her.

I love Emma Thompson and think she is one of the most talented actresses alive. There are several reasons I don’t care for her in this role. First, the role was written for a man in drag on stage, and while I’m not sure that suspension of disbelief would have worked in a film, the lower, darker range for which Trunchbull’s songs were written is lost with Thompson’s mezzo voice. Second, Thompson’s acting coupled with Warchus closeups of her is too subtle for a role that was written to be an eleven in terms of scenery chewing. I think of other similar villains (Jim Carrey’s Count Olaf, Robert Helpmann’s Child Catcher, even Thompson’s Baroness in Cruella), and they all were comical and menacing. The Trunchbull here is just comical.

As to the other villains (Matilda’s parents), Stephen Graham and Andrea Riseborough are largely wasted. They both have solo numbers in the stage show, which were cut from the film. Matilda also has an older brother in the show and novel, whose purpose is to show the blatant favoritism of their parents. He is also cut. All of this makes Matilda’s home life an underdeveloped afterthought that makes the neglect and emotional abuse of her parents seem like a joke. It also makes the antics of “Naughty” seem wholly unwarranted.

The lack of stakes for Matilda makes Dahl’s morbid world of corrupt idiot parents, evil authority figures, kind but frightened teachers, and scared children all shockingly dull. The outcome is never in doubt, even if one is not familiar with the story. To be sure, it’s a powerful story about standing up to the monsters in your life and building a family of love when your blood relations neglect their responsibilities, and the moments of tenderness highlighted in Minchin’s songs still come through, but it disappointingly lacks the emotional wallop that other versions of this story have.

One scene that does pack the emotional punch that it needs to is Lashana Lynch’s rendition of “My House.” As Miss Honey, Matilda’s tender yet timid teacher Lynch is easily the best of the cast, and she is given the most to do, despite her act one solo being cut as well. The casting of her parents makes that mystery obvious way too far in advance, but the “reveal” is still poignant without the surprise.

Regrettably, the filmmakers felt obligated to go for best original song Oscar and wrote a new finale for the movie. First, it takes the focus of the story away from Matilda and shifts who the protagonist is without any setup for such a shift. Second, like most attempts at that Oscar added to musical adaptations, the song is mostly forgettable. Third, the finale of the stage show is perfect, and it ruins that.

It is worth mentioning that this new finale is not the first time Warchus’ directing steals the story away from Matilda. Her act two solo, “Quiet,” is brilliantly sung by Alisha Weir, but editing the Trunchbull’s threats throughout it takes the moment of growth away from Matilda.

I would not deny that the stage version of Matilda the Musical has its flaws, but the energy and emotions packed into that production are some of the most moving and heartfelt, making it my favorite musical centered around children. Sadly, the film remains too much a shadow of that story to bring Dahl’s creation to life the way the musical did on stage.

Personal recommendation: C+