Why I loved Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland
March 14th 2010 13:10
I’d had this film on my radar for nearly a year, and yet when the time came for its Australian release I was far, far away from any cinema: I was camping, most nights in the bush, while on an epic road trip along the east coast of Australia. By the time I made my return to civilization, I’d all but forgotten that this movie had finally graced our screens. Nonetheless, I quickly got myself to a (still half-full) screening and all I can say is that I can’t think of anyone who wouldn’t enjoy Tim Burton’s latest masterpiece in some way or another. It has wit, it has action and excitement, it has Johnny Depp (need I say more?) and it has just the right amount of weirdness that we’ve come to expect from one of the most out-there filmmakers in Hollywood.
Considering that Burton was – in essence – working with Lewis Carroll, the weirdness could easily have become uncontrollable but Burton kept a leash on it, for the most part allowing Carroll’s characters to jump right off the page. And jump they do, even if you weren’t watching it in 3D (I wasn’t). Being that the film is not a direct adaptation of the book, there are quite a few unexpected additions but this is what made the film so exciting, for me: I had no idea how it was all going to end, and I challenge anyone who says that they did!
Here’s the basic storyline: 19-year-old Alice is facing a crossroads in her life, and when the moment of truth presents itself she runs away… and finds herself back in the otherworldly realm of her childhood dreams, among all of her old friends including the White Rabbit, ‘fat boys’ Tweedledum and Tweedledee, the charismatic Cheshire Cat and the ever-mysterious hookah-smoking caterpillar, voiced by the unmistakably silky, Snape-y tones of Alan Rickman. This visit to Underland is a little different to the one before, however. There’s less circular rhetoric and a lot more brutality, and Alice soon learns that she’s been brought there on a mission: to defeat the Jabberwocky and in doing so, dethroning the dreaded, bulbous-headed Red Queen (hilariously portrayed by Helena Bonham Carter, who seems to have developed a bit of a fetish for playing the villainess).
Something I really loved about the actress who played Alice is that I’d never seen her before in my life. Her name is Mia Wasikowska and she’s likable, sweet and plays the role beautifully, but best of all, we’re not seeing Mia (namely, because most people in the audience don’t know the first thing about her)… we’re seeing Alice. I’m not sure if this happens to anyone else – no doubt it does – but so often when I’m watching a major star in the lead role of a film, I’m not seeing the character, but the celebrity themselves. A big thumbs-up to whoever cast Wasikowska because it was lovely to not have such a distraction.
Unfortunately the same could not be said for the Mad Hatter, however I’m in two minds about this as Johnny Depp was, really, nothing short of brilliant. I love him, he’s an amazing talent and as always, he made this fabulously quirky role his own… and yet, I must admit that I was seeing Johnny Depp, and not Carroll’s crazy hat maker. That’s one of the major difficulties that being an actor in films that span a lifetime bring about; your audience not only expects so much of you, but they relate you to every other film they’ve seen you in. As I watched the Mad Hatter, I also felt I was watching Jack Sparrow, Willy Wonka, Edward Scissorhands and even a little bit of Gilbert Grape! Unfair on Johnny, I know, but these things can’t be helped. Having said all that, I don’t know of any other actor who could have filled the role quite as perfectly as Johnny – he really has made these over-the-top, theatrical and utterly weird characters his specialty.
Added to all this is the exceptional costume stylings of Colleen Atwood, worth a mention because she has been behind the costumes of more than one of my favourite Victorian-era movies and yet, how often does a reviewer ever recognise the costume designer? The contrasts in colours and fabrics between the gowns of the two queens, the derelict-but-dashing gear of the hatter, and Alice’s varying states of disheveled elegance all quietly loaned themselves to making Alice in Wonderland just a bit more wonderful.
As for the special effects? Never my forte as I know little of how they work, except to say that they appeared seamless to your everyday moviegoer (me). Nothing about them made me laugh, at least, unlike in some films where the actor/CG distinction is more than a bit obvious (Attack of the Clones, anyone?) In the same vein, Danny Elfman’s music score was everything you’d expect from an award-winning sound artist: smooth, appropriate, and never, ever distracting.
That’s not to say this film was perfect, because perfection in movies is nigh on impossible, but it comes pretty damn close. I found the dancing at the end a tad cheesy, and was disappointed that there wasn’t a little more Carroll-style philosophising through the Cheshire Cat and Absolom the smoky caterpillar, however it’s really a case of the quibbles when a movie is otherwise as brilliant as this one was. Above all else, I left the cinema on a high after seeing Burton’s Alice in Wonderland, and to me, this is, without a doubt, the surest sign of a film worth watching.
Considering that Burton was – in essence – working with Lewis Carroll, the weirdness could easily have become uncontrollable but Burton kept a leash on it, for the most part allowing Carroll’s characters to jump right off the page. And jump they do, even if you weren’t watching it in 3D (I wasn’t). Being that the film is not a direct adaptation of the book, there are quite a few unexpected additions but this is what made the film so exciting, for me: I had no idea how it was all going to end, and I challenge anyone who says that they did!
Here’s the basic storyline: 19-year-old Alice is facing a crossroads in her life, and when the moment of truth presents itself she runs away… and finds herself back in the otherworldly realm of her childhood dreams, among all of her old friends including the White Rabbit, ‘fat boys’ Tweedledum and Tweedledee, the charismatic Cheshire Cat and the ever-mysterious hookah-smoking caterpillar, voiced by the unmistakably silky, Snape-y tones of Alan Rickman. This visit to Underland is a little different to the one before, however. There’s less circular rhetoric and a lot more brutality, and Alice soon learns that she’s been brought there on a mission: to defeat the Jabberwocky and in doing so, dethroning the dreaded, bulbous-headed Red Queen (hilariously portrayed by Helena Bonham Carter, who seems to have developed a bit of a fetish for playing the villainess).
The Red Queen, played by Helena Bonham Carter
The White Queen, played by Anne Hathaway
Something I really loved about the actress who played Alice is that I’d never seen her before in my life. Her name is Mia Wasikowska and she’s likable, sweet and plays the role beautifully, but best of all, we’re not seeing Mia (namely, because most people in the audience don’t know the first thing about her)… we’re seeing Alice. I’m not sure if this happens to anyone else – no doubt it does – but so often when I’m watching a major star in the lead role of a film, I’m not seeing the character, but the celebrity themselves. A big thumbs-up to whoever cast Wasikowska because it was lovely to not have such a distraction.
Alice - neatly portrayed by Mia Wasikowska
Unfortunately the same could not be said for the Mad Hatter, however I’m in two minds about this as Johnny Depp was, really, nothing short of brilliant. I love him, he’s an amazing talent and as always, he made this fabulously quirky role his own… and yet, I must admit that I was seeing Johnny Depp, and not Carroll’s crazy hat maker. That’s one of the major difficulties that being an actor in films that span a lifetime bring about; your audience not only expects so much of you, but they relate you to every other film they’ve seen you in. As I watched the Mad Hatter, I also felt I was watching Jack Sparrow, Willy Wonka, Edward Scissorhands and even a little bit of Gilbert Grape! Unfair on Johnny, I know, but these things can’t be helped. Having said all that, I don’t know of any other actor who could have filled the role quite as perfectly as Johnny – he really has made these over-the-top, theatrical and utterly weird characters his specialty.
Johnny Depp's Mad Hatter
Added to all this is the exceptional costume stylings of Colleen Atwood, worth a mention because she has been behind the costumes of more than one of my favourite Victorian-era movies and yet, how often does a reviewer ever recognise the costume designer? The contrasts in colours and fabrics between the gowns of the two queens, the derelict-but-dashing gear of the hatter, and Alice’s varying states of disheveled elegance all quietly loaned themselves to making Alice in Wonderland just a bit more wonderful.
As for the special effects? Never my forte as I know little of how they work, except to say that they appeared seamless to your everyday moviegoer (me). Nothing about them made me laugh, at least, unlike in some films where the actor/CG distinction is more than a bit obvious (Attack of the Clones, anyone?) In the same vein, Danny Elfman’s music score was everything you’d expect from an award-winning sound artist: smooth, appropriate, and never, ever distracting.
That’s not to say this film was perfect, because perfection in movies is nigh on impossible, but it comes pretty damn close. I found the dancing at the end a tad cheesy, and was disappointed that there wasn’t a little more Carroll-style philosophising through the Cheshire Cat and Absolom the smoky caterpillar, however it’s really a case of the quibbles when a movie is otherwise as brilliant as this one was. Above all else, I left the cinema on a high after seeing Burton’s Alice in Wonderland, and to me, this is, without a doubt, the surest sign of a film worth watching.
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