Alice in Wonderland

Alice in Wonderland, Tim Burton vintage, is a satisfying film that fits comfortably into his canon of achievements. The best parts are the moments most reminiscent of his signature work -; the landscapes often have a “I was in another Tim Burton film” feel. Alice walks through a strange forest with Edward Scissorhand’s topiary, later in the film a slowly arcing crane shot drifts over a “Beetlejuice” terrain, Danny Elfman’s music is once again superb -; driving the story, stroking the emotions, powerful and funny. The acting is fun and loose. Johnny Depp is on board as the Mad Hatter, oddly polished and altered but very whole, a modern victim of software manipulation. And even more misshapen is Helena Bonham Carter as the Red Queen, her head expanded like a thick balloon, a character trait she and everyone else are perpetually aware of. Members of her court even wear bizarre appendages to distort their own appearances. And Mia Wasikowska as Alice gives a convincing and relaxed performance, indignant to be confused with the “other” Alice everyone keeps mentioning, but curious and adventurous with a will and determination that propels her forward.

The real question is to what degree 3D is an evolution in film storytelling. In it’s initial iteration filmmakers (including Alfred Hitchcock, who placed big foreground telephones in the faces of viewers in Dial M For Murder) used, abused, and tired of the relatively expensive and cumbersome technique. But now that Alice in Wonderland’s 114 million dollar opening weekend has followed the overwhelming financial and technical footsteps of the Avatar experience there seems to be no going back.

Tim Burton’s dark, sometimes creepy visual style -; haunted landscapes, crooked storybook creatures, the unusual, the ghoulish, and the outcast, varies but never really changes from film to film. His style is as recognizable as that of other auteurs working in the mainstream of international filmmaking and his vision is most truly expressed in three ways: his twisted fairytale story telling, the visual mastery of his stop-motion animation, and, in what must be one of the great filmmaker/composer relationships in history, his collaboration with composer Danny Elfman. Adding the 3D experience might seem an inevitable step, but some filmmakers are resisting it. When asked about the 3D treatment of the animation and mise-en-scene of his own films, Terry Gilliam responded that his scenes were already full of action and movement and work just fine. But with video games and pornography to compete with it is clear that film studios are hoping for a long-term and financially rewarding commitment between 3D and viewers.

Burton’s updates things with a young woman who might (or might not) be the Alice from the original story. She is older and about to be fit into a marriage in which she has no say or interest. With no memory of her (possibly) previous visit to Wonderland she must, conveniently for us, goes through most of the familiar moments and adventures of Lewis Carroll’s original tale. The plot has a framing element that poses a question of destiny (which begins when she is distracted by the white rabbit) or surrender (to the upper-class married domestic the life she is coasting into). But once she falls into Wonderland her return seems to have been foretold -; and the adventure begins.

Although the film clearly reflect’s the vision of Tim Burton there are moments that suggest the hand of the producers, Disney Pictures, The 3D effects seem to come mostly from the software creation (Plants and creatures, the Cheshire Cat (the voice of Steven Fry), Blue Caterpillar (Alan Rickman), and not so much the character (or stop motion) interaction in space. An exception is one of the very first shots of the film, a drawing room encounter in which the camera pulls back past Alice, her father and another man, fully exploiting the potential of 3D in one of the finest shots in the film.  But it is sadly an exception. Towards the end of the film Elfman’s perfectly textured musical score is breached by a sudden eruption of pop beats, which feels like an awkward mistake. And the final credits include a new song called Alice by the recording star Avril Livigne -; something that in a Tim Burton film feels more like a cross promotion than an inspiration. As for the overall 3D effects the visuals often look murkier than were probably intended -; don’t take your glasses off because the incredibly bright screen will make everything seem even darker and harder to watch when you put them back on.

What makes Alice in Wonderland a pleasure, though, is that it is Tim Burton’s take on a classic using his own style and storytelling conventions. That the film is a Disney remake of Lewis Carroll’s book is besides the point. Even less interesting is the 3D treatment. It doesn’t feel necessary, and rarely provides more than an occasional diversion. There are some great sequences: Alice falling down the endless and very crowded rabbit hole, Alice chased through the Burtonian landscape by a big angry dog monster, the Mad Hatter’s signature hat floating lazily over the courtyard of the red queen. But even if the buzz of 3D is responsible for many of the first wave of viewers it is Burton’s own treatment of the story that will be responsible for the most attention in the long run.

                                    Thomas W. Campbell