Two movies with very different takes on a timeless classic.
Alice in Wonderland (2010; Disney+)
Faced with an unwanted engagement, nineteen-year-old Alice falls down a rabbit hole and discovers a world—and an Alice—she once knew. This live-action/animated film pushes the boundaries of 2010 technology: it stretches not only height, but eyes and motion-capture and 3D. Underneath the technology and make-up, the wonderful actors shine through as Wonderland’s quirky caricatures. Johnny Depp and Mia Wasikowska give especially winsome performances, and Helena Bonham Carter as the Red Queen is quite memorable. The dialogue is entertaining and quotable, and real-world and Wonderland sequences alike are stunning in set design, costuming, and that Tim Burton oddness.
As a fan of all things Alice in Wonderland, I appreciate this movie for not repeating what every other movie adaptation of Alice does. It doesn’t try to be the books. The books aren’t a story, really. This movie adapts the books into a story that really works, with a number of subtle nods that only lovers of the books will catch. And along the way, it delves into nuanced relations between art and power, the paradox of doing justice in an unjust system, being a light in a dark place.
For sensitive viewers: Some squirm-inducing fantasy violence moments including a CGI monster’s eye. Two sisters are said to swim naked in a lake. An adulterous man makes advances. A caterpillar smokes.
Alice in Wonderland (1951; Disney+)
Seven-year-old Alice dreams of a world of her own and follows a waistcoat-wearing rabbit into a world that turns out to be more than she bargained for! Walt Disney’s iconic animated classic is unmistakable. The colors pop. The character designs are delightful. It’s cartoony, but with its visual design feet on the ground (or underground) such that the human Alice keeps it from spiraling into total absurdity. As in all good Disney animation, there are songs.
I didn’t used to like this movie. There are songs, but they’re not that good. There’s fun animation, but not a story. Like most film Alices, it merely adapts the disjointed scenes of the book into a disjointed romp. In the book, this works, because it stimulates your imagination and induces wonder; in a movie, this just feels silly. Worse yet, because here everyone is mean to Alice, there’s not even a coherent character relationship to warm the heart of the film.
But in recent years, I’ve changed my mind. The movie has these faults; but when I just let it carry me away, it’s a feast of color and silliness. A movie doesn’t have to be more than that. The songs—“In a World of My Own,” “You Can Learn a Lot of Things from the Flowers,” “We’re Painting the Roses Red”—become surprisingly catchy. Alice wandering through hallways is not interesting, but making the doorknob a friendly conversation partner is a stroke of genius. Then, things pick up in the second half as Alice meets a tea party and a Cheshire Cat (who is quite upbeat and at least somewhat helpful), both featuring familiar voice actors and unforgettable character design. A few loving references to Fantasia (notice the flower’s colorful drums) complete this panorama of pure, nonsensical entertainment.
For sensitive viewers: As noted above, several characters are insensitive to Alice’s feelings. She kicks “poor Bill” through the chimney. A walrus and a carpenter eat sentient oyster babies. A caterpillar smokes.
Nathan’s Writing Update
I’m halfway through a new video essay about the films of Brad Bird (Iron Giant, The Incredibles, Ratatouille, Tomorrowland). If I can finish this in the next week or two, I can get back to editing my book about Bolt and Frozen and more. All in good time.
This month we have a new theme, but related to last month: a summer of adventures to far-away lands…
One last note about Alice. Through the Looking-Glass was the first book I remember choosing for myself in school and falling in love with. Don’t believe any of the rumors you hear about the author—he was Oxford’s Mister Rogers. I highly recommend his Alice’s Adventures and Through the Looking-Glass, and his little-known masterpiece Sylvie & Bruno (part 1 and part 2).