Alices in Wonderlands

Tim Burton's take on Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland opened Friday, and since I run hot and cold on Burton, I may or may not see it, but the director did make a couple of interesting points in an recent interview. First, that the Alice story (the original Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and the sequel Through the Looking-Glass) is not strong on narrative. Despite providing fodder for many literary, film, and television adaptations, there is really no plot there, just an episodic account of Alice's strange trip meeting odd creatures and dealing with illogical thinking. Secondly, Burton says that there is no iconic film version out there, so he felt less pressure to live up to any other artist's vision. I think he's right: the Disney cartoon of 1951, despite giving us the lovely little ditty, "I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date...," is not especially memorable, and no other version I can think of has any claim to mass acceptance as THE Alice we all think of.

However, baby boomers who watched a lot of TV when they were young, like I did, may remember the 1933 Alice in Wonderland with great affection, as I do. The film has been mostly missing in action for the last 20 years or so, though I remember seeing it more than once on kiddie matinee TV shows in the early 60's. TCM ran the film once or twice several years ago, but it vanished down the rabbit hole again until last week when it was issued on video for the first time by Universal. The plot, such as it is: young Alice (Charlotte Henry), is frustrated with being kept inside on a snowy winter's day, so she falls asleep and dreams of an extended visit to the land on the other side of the mirror. She has silly and surreal encounters with strange creatures and wakes up all cozy back in her overstuffed armchair, with her kitten in her arms.

This movie may well have had an influence on THE WIZARD OF OZ six years later, not just in the trajectory of the plotline (it's not a big stretch from Alice to Dorothy), but in the fantasy sets, magical effects, and elaborate costumes. The impact of having so many guest stars is blunted because most of them are under so much makeup, they are unrecognizable. You certainly can't prove by me that it's really Cary Grant under the Mock Turtle outfit; he might have just dubbed in his weepy dialogue and odd song. The same thing goes for Richard Arlen as the Cheshire Cat, Charlie Ruggles as the March Hare, and even W. C. Fields as Humpty Dumpty. The most recognizable are Edward Everett Horton as the Mad Hatter and the wonderful Edna May Oliver as the Red Queen. As an adult who was watching largely to spot the stars, the film came off to me more like a revue of short and vaguely comic sketches that, more often than not, have no real punch line or payoff.

My favorite bits: Horton and Ruggles singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Bat," which would not have been out of place in a Monty Python episode; the Duchess' freaky baby (Billy Barty) who turns into a pig; and Polly Moran as the Dodo, reciting "dry" history in order to dry off a soaking wet Alice. Charlotte Henry as Alice is serviceable but nothing more; she seems far too unflappable given all the bizarre and chaotic transformations she is witness to throughout. The creepiest (but also funniest) thing in the movie is the talking leg of mutton at the climactic party.

Also out on DVD from Warner Home Video is a 1966 TV film done by Jonathan Miller for the BBC. Though not the most faithful or satisfying version, it makes for very interesting viewing. First, though the DVD cover is in color, the film itself is in black and white which would seem to work against the story's colorful characters and settings. In practice, however, this makes the film feel far less dated than it might have been if it had been shot in Day-Glo 60's color. Also, the actors playing the odd creatures are not put in fantastic make-up or costumes, but in Victorian dress. Overall, the entire production feels quite contemporary. Alice (Anne-Marie Mallik, pictured at the top of this post) is a teenage girl who falls asleep in a summery field and moves through her dream world unimpressed by her strange encounters; she spends most of the film as though she's about to slip into a sullen snit. In the beginning, it seems like this is going to be about Alice finding out some truths about herself (she wonders out loud, "Who am I?"), but we quickly come not to care about her in the least.

Star-spotting here is much easier to do: John Gielgud is the Mock Turtle (at right w/Alice), Wilfrid Brambell (Paul's grandfather in Hard Days' Night) is the White Rabbit, Peter Sellers is the King of Hearts, and Michael Radgrave is the Caterpillar. The Cheshire Cat, in what amounts to a cameo, is played by a cat. The most fun is provided by Peter Cook as a prancing Mad Hatter, who is more fun in the finale than in his Tea Party scene, which is too successful at attempting to reproduce the tedium of a snooty afternoon tea party. Also enjoyable is Leo McKern in drag as the Duchess with the pig baby; his scene is short but quite amusing. The score, which is also a plus, is by Ravi Shankar. The movie assumes that its audience is already quite familiar with the work, and of course we are, so the whole thing has a dreamy, impressionistic feel to it which works in its favor. Actually, I quite liked the film except for Alice, which is the fault of the director rather than the actress. The DVD also contains an entertaining commentary from Miller, an 8-minute silent version from 1903, and a biopic about the real-life Alice Liddell, the inspiration for Carroll's Alice, done by Dennis Potter for the BBC the year before. Both of these films make for interesting viewing for adults, but I don't know that today's kids will enjoy them.