The entire family was treated to a screening of “Willy Wonka” last night — thanks, Jan at Warner Brothers. And everyone from six on up came away pleased. Tim Burton’s always been a gifted filmmaker and an incredible visual stylist, but sometimes story gets away from him — remember the flaccid last third of “Beetlejuice”? But here he has Roald Dahl’s masterpiece to guide him, and except for an added subplot about Willy Wonka’s childhood, he stays close to the source. In fact, if I have any complaint, it’s that the new movie is very similar, sometimes to the word, to the first film incarnation of the book. So there is an occasional sense of, “get on with it, we’ve seen this.”

The big room with the chocolate waterfall where everything is eatable, er, edible, comes to mind.

Then there is the matter of Johnny Depp, America’s greatest actor.

His performance is odd, off-putting, fascinating, funny, sweet, and moving all at once. I wondered what my kids would think of it, only to find my 11-year-old working very hard on his Wonka impression as he went to bed last night. He’ll be wowing them on the camp bus this morning.