Further Thoughts on Matilda the Musical

*Spoilers.*

I’ve said before that my introduction to Matilda was all turned around: cast recording for the musical first, then the book, then the movie, and now the movie musical. As such, my first experience with Miss Honey was in the musical version, where she’s timid and easily cowed by Miss Trunchbull but learns to find strength in herself over the show. The 1996 movie takes a similar approach—Miss Honey is equal parts confident and gentle in her classroom, but when Miss Trunchbull, her abuser since childhood, is in the room, it’s incredibly hard for her to speak up for herself, or even her students. I think Lashana Lynch captures this aspect of the character beautifully in the new movie musical, and I love watching Miss Honey be inspired by Matilda’s ferocity and discover her voice.

That leads into what I want to talk about today, which is how the new film portrays abuse. (Side note: I haven’t seen the stage show live, so I’m not sure how much of this aspect is simply carry-over from the show. Obviously, the songs are the same, but I’m not sure about the dialogue scenes.) In this flavor of children’s story, the villains—your Miss Trunchbulls, your Aunts Sponge and Spiker, etc.—are terrible and cruel to the child protagonists, but it’s usually in a way that’s over-the-top enough to feel removed from real life. Enough for someone to go, “These aren’t abusive teachers and guardians, these are cartoon baddies for the plucky children to outsmart and defeat.”

That’s often how Miss Trunchbull, and Matilda’s parents, feel in the book. This isn’t precisely a criticism, by the way—again, it’s just that style of children’s lit. Miss Trunchbull throws kids into Chokey, which is horrific, but she also picks them up by their pigtails and hammer-throws them over the fence, which is cartoonish and wild. The Wormwoods are insulting and neglectful to Matilda, but their remarks bounce off of her and she consistently gets one over on them via her Pranks of Justice. Her battle against Miss Trunchbull goes in a similar way. And while the original movie takes a more complex approach with Miss Honey, Matilda generally feels just as untouchable as she does in the book. In the face of her family’s sneers and Miss Trunchbull’s threats, she remains calm and unflappable, besting them with a soft smile.

This is where, to me, the movie musical really stands out. First, the villains have a more even horrific-to-cartoonish ratio. The word Matilda and the other children use in reference to Miss Trunchbull is “bully,” but you can see in her portrayal that “abuser” is just as valid. We still get the over-the-top moments, but there are also her fits of rage and threats of physical harm, her biting insults and the cruel way she mocks Miss Honey’s frightened stammer. Likewise, at home, Matilda lives in an attic that’s definitely not a cute attic bedroom, and there’s a scene where her dad drags her up the stairs, throws her into the attic, and slams the door shut. These aren’t cartoon baddies. These are abusive teachers and guardians.

And most significantly, Matilda doesn’t move through this environment unscathed. She’s still creative and resourceful, and her indomitable spirit prevails over all attempts to break her, but she doesn’t just bounce back from this treatment. When Miss Trunchbull goes back on her promise not to punish Bruce if he finishes the entire chocolate cake in one sitting, Matilda is furious. “It’s cheating!” she protests, filled with righteous indignation that Bruce did exactly what Miss Trunchbull told him to do and she’s throwing him into Chokey anyway. With her parents, there are times when she takes her inventive retribution with a glint in her eye, but there are also times when she cries and screams alone.

Matilda loves to seek out the mobile library around town as a peaceful oasis, but she repeatedly hedges and lies when the librarian makes comments like, “Your parents must be so proud to have such a brilliant daughter,” or, “It’s getting late—won’t your parents be wondering where you are?” In these scenes, we see that, whether due to intimidation, shame, or something else, Matilda can’t bring herself to tell this safe adult what’s really happening at home. She feels the need to pretend everything’s all right, that her parents care about her and want the best for her. When Miss Honey comes to the Wormwoods’ house to inquire about schooling for Matilda, I don’t know whether she entirely sees Mr. and Mrs. Wormwood for who they are, but I feel like she recognizes herself when she sees Matilda sitting on the stairs, the way her eyes flit to her parents in the kitchen before she speaks.

I love this portrayal. It’s a lot more painful, but it makes for a much richer story. It reminds me of A Series of Unfortunate Events and its TV adaptation, both of which get Count Olaf’s horrific/cartoonish balance right. When approached with this kind of depth, I think it’s all the more uplifting to see the child protagonists overcome in the end.