The Big Picture
- Matilda portrays alarming instances of abuse, from neglectful parents to a physically violent principal, highlighting the dark side of the story.
- Matilda's world feels oppressive, with a stifling atmosphere and an inauthentic suburban home, reinforcing the theme of her lack of autonomy.
- Matilda's legacy lies in its portrayal of a character who is underestimated and mistreated but ultimately finds happiness and tries to make the world a better place. It resonates with kids who feel ignored or different.
If you loved 1996's Matilda — wore out the VHS tape, stared too hard at glasses of water hoping to make them fall — chances are you identified with its lead character just a bit too much. Adapted from a classic children's book by Roald Dahl, the screen version of the story has become, at least stateside, the definitive version. (Maybe for the best, considering its author's history.) The tale of a telekinetic six-and-a-half-year-old (Mara Wilson) who uses her powers to influence surrounding adults, Matilda has become a veritable children's classic, thanks in large part to its campiness and great performances. That's why it can be sort of surprising to look back on the film as an adult — to see its themes and characters through a more responsible lens. Things we accepted as children suddenly seem over-the-top, even ghoulish. Wait, you might say, they forced this child to eat a whole cake? How, you might think, did they get away with putting students in the metal-spiked Chokey? After all, isn't this movie for kids? Yes, it is — and that's precisely why it holds up after all these years. Matilda is one of those rare pieces of media that doesn't need to lob adult jokes to parents or talk down to young people to make itself available to a wide variety of audiences. It's enjoyable simply because it's honest about the experiences of its main character. After all, being a kid doesn't automatically mean you're happy, fulfilled, or cared for. Matilda wasn't afraid to reflect that, and it's probably why the kindness of Miss Honey (Embeth Davidtz) still makes you cry.
The Adults Are Downright Abusive in 'Matilda'
From neglectful parents to a horrible school principal (and maybe murderer), the world of Matilda is full of alarming instances of abuse. As we learn in one of the film's best-known montages, Matilda Wormwood's intellectual prowess and special abilities make her an outcast in her family. Harry Wormwood (Danny DeVito) and his wife Zinnia (Rhea Perlman) are too caught up in superficial things to respond to their daughter's interests. Harry tampers with used cars, while Zinnia cares almost exclusively about her appearance, leaving little time for family dinners — or enrolling their daughter in school. Matilda cooks herself breakfast, teaches herself to read, and generally looks after herself in lieu of caring parents. Through the eyes of an adult, it's frustrating — but, for some neglected kids, it rings strangely true.
Despite the fact that Matilda is learning things most parents would encourage and teaching herself to be independent, these traits only make her parents feel as though she's trying to become better than them. Though a neglectful dad is unlikely to be under FBI surveillance like Harry is, it's not too far-fetched to imagine the infamous Moby-Dick scene unfolding in any suburban house. Upon finding out that Matilda is avoiding the family and reading in her room, he rips the book out of her hands and forces her to watch TV. (The scene culminates in a nauseating, neon-lit moment of desperation that leaves the family's TV set smoking.) In some ways, these scenes are more disturbing as an adult — we can recognize patterns we didn't see before. Harry shouts at Matilda when she questions her punishment: "I'm smart, you're dumb, I'm big, you're little, I'm right, you're wrong! And there's nothing you can do about it!"
But the film doesn't rely only on more realistic depictions of abusive situations. Once Matilda finally convinces her parents to allow her to enroll in school, we're introduced to the most cartoonish character in the movie — physically violent principal Miss Trunchbull (Pam Ferris). Despite her job, she hates kids — throwing them over fences and shoving them into an iron-maiden like device called the Chokey. It's a frightening depiction of an authority figure, and, while one's first instinct is to protect younger viewers from the nightmarish imagery, fans probably recall being oddly drawn to the movie's unapologetic harshness. Even if your school wasn't as bad as Crunchem Hall, it might have felt that way.
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'Matilda's Dark Setting Supports the Movie's Theme
Even the atmosphere of Matilda feels oppressive. From the gray, dank hallways of Crunchem to the terrifying, castle-like home of Miss Trunchbull, Matilda's world seems to be pressing in on her from all sides. (Even her family's suburban home is an inauthentic, plastic-lined shrine to her parents' aspirational lifestyle.) Nothing she says is interpreted in the right way. No one listens to her. When Matilda finally meets the two other most empathetic characters in the movie — her friend Lavender (Kiami Davael) and teacher Miss Jennifer Honey — it's revealed that their kindness is a closely-guarded secret. (When Trunchbull — also Miss Honey's abusive step-aunt — visits their classroom, Miss Honey has to frantically hide all the brightly-colored classroom decor to match Trunchbull's dour mood.)
As she becomes closer to Matilda, Miss Honey reveals the truth. When Ms. Trunchbull first came to live with Ms. Honey when she was a girl, she quickly became abusive toward her and perhaps even murdered Miss Honey's father, taking her father's house and inheritance away. There is no justice for her father here; the only thing Matilda can think to do to alleviate her sadness is trying her hand at revenge. When Matilda tries to recover Miss Honey's favorite childhood doll from the house, we're treated to one of the movie's gloomiest set pieces — the big, lonely house at night. The doll floats out the window, but not before we're treated to shaking paintings, flickering chandeliers, and monochrome night skies — emblematic of Matilda's thematic darkness.
The Legacy of 'Matilda'
Though not all children can relate to the way Matilda is treated by the adults in her life, they can likely relate to the most prominent aspect of her character: Her lack of autonomy. She has to look after herself, but is not listened to. She's underestimated, but still cannot survive on her own. In fact, Matilda's telekinesis is sort of the ultimate childhood fantasy: It allows its user to influence the world around her, even when she holds no greater societal power. Matilda is not a piece of media that coddles its viewer. Rather, it trusts them to understand that things can be scary, sad, and unfair — and that people can be happy not in the absence of these truths, but despite them. Matilda's parents do not change. They sign her adoptive rights over to Miss Honey in a heartbeat, and though this is what we'd hoped for, it's still kind of pathetic that they didn't fight for their only daughter. Miss Honey has her house back, but her father is still gone forever. In a sense, Matilda and Miss Honey's happiness is made, not found — instead of continuing the cycles of abuse they've both been victim to, they want to try to make the world around them a better place. Matilda, in all its variations, is still very popular. (In fact, it was adapted into both a musical and a 2022 movie-musical starring Alisha Weir and Lashana Lynch.) That's a good thing: Matilda is escapism for kids who feel ignored, depressed, or just different. If only we could all make pancakes with our minds.
