Neil Hannon, Joby Talbot - Wonka (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) (2LP) - Wonka’s Hair Repair Eclair Edition Vinyl

Before anyone sniffs at another prequel, the Wonka soundtrack earns its chocolate coins. Released on 8 December 2023 by WaterTower Music, this Original Motion Picture Soundtrack pairs Neil Hannon’s witty, melodic songwriting with Joby Talbot’s generous orchestral score, and the mix is exactly the right kind of sweet. Hannon, best known as the brains behind The Divine Comedy, brings a cabaret sparkle and a precise sense of character, while Talbot, whose ballet work with The Royal Ballet has real heft, gives the film a warm, storybook grandeur. It is a proper movie musical album, the sort you can spin without the pictures and still feel the plot unfolding.

The opening one-two lands beautifully. A Hatful of Dreams sets the tone with nimble lyrics and a tune that skips along like a kid on a sugar high, yet there is craft in the chord changes and a little ache in the melody that hints at the scrapes to come. Timothée Chalamet sings his own parts, and his voice suits Hannon’s writing, light and open, more actor-singer than belter, which works because these songs are about character first. When A World of Your Own arrives, it feels like the centrepiece. The arrangement swells and sparkles, woodwinds and strings circling around a hook that sticks in the head. You can hear Hannon’s theatre smarts at play, guiding you through the room, the smells, the hopefulness of the scene.

For A Moment is the heart tugger, a duet with Calah Lane that gives the film its pause for breath. The writing is simple in the best way, no showboating, just a gently rising line that lets the harmonies bloom. On the other side of the ledger, Oompa Loompa is a sly treat. Hugh Grant’s comic turn threads through Talbot’s tip of the hat to the 1971 classic, the famous Bricusse and Newley material referenced with a wink while the new orchestration keeps it fresh. There are touches of Pure Imagination in the score too, folded into Talbot’s palette so it lands as a memory rather than a quotation-heavy crutch.

Talbot’s cues tie the whole thing together. He writes for the orchestra with colour and clarity, and you can tell he knows how to support dance, because the rhythms are crisp and the grooves feel playable. Brass gets a jaunty strut when the plot leans cheeky, then the strings bloom in the wonder moments. It is old-fashioned craftsmanship in the best sense, unafraid of melody, unafraid of joy. If you’ve followed his concert work, the leap to this kind of film storytelling feels natural, and it gives Hannon’s tunes a plush red curtain to play in front of.

One of the neat tricks here is how the album balances nostalgia with newness. There are breadcrumbs back to Dahl and to the Gene Wilder film, but the writing never coasts on borrowed glow. Hannon’s lyrics keep the rhymes tight and the jokes nimble, and he writes lines you can imagine kids repeating on the way home. Talbot’s orchestrations meanwhile keep the chocolate factory feeling hand built rather than digital, so you get that old cinema warmth. It is no surprise that critics picked up on the soundtrack’s classic musical flavour, because it sounds like something that would sit comfortably next to Mary Poppins or Paddington in the family shelf.

For anyone crate digging, this is the rare modern movie musical that rewards repeat play, which is exactly why people have been chasing Wonka Original Motion Picture Soundtrack vinyl. Hannon fans will find it an easy bridge from his chamber pop records, so if you buy Neil Hannon records online and keep an eye out for Divine Comedy reissues, this sits neatly on the same shelf. It also works as an entry point if you collect Joby Talbot vinyl, especially if you like his ballet recordings. Around my local Melbourne record store, it’s one of those albums you can put on in the afternoon and watch parents drift toward the counter, kids in tow, asking who wrote that song about dreams.

If you’re building a family friendly stack, slot this next to your Matilda and Paddington scores, and if you’re sorting by artist tags, it helps to remember that Neil Hannon albums on vinyl often reward close listening with clever wordplay tucked into the corners. For the soundtrack crowd in vinyl records Australia circles, it’s an easy recommendation. It tastes like proper chocolate, not the cheap stuff, and in a year heavy with franchise noise, it’s a reminder that a well made song and a well dressed orchestra still feel like magic.