We gather a similar
conversation must have happened between Tim Burton and his own father, otherwise
he might have never acquired the chutzpah to take the absurd approaches that he
has in his own movies over the past twenty years. To describe a Burton endeavor is not to do it justice, either – often
abstract in configuration and seeped in gothic influence, his movies seem to
reach beyond the celluloid and seek solace in the foreboding, leaving viewers
enraptured by the sharp edges and the deep ironies in his stories. The approach
worked greatly in his favor for a handful of films, including “Sleepy Hollow,” a
film with all the flair and style of one of the great Germanic expressionism
pieces of the silent era. Alas, in the recent years, that sense of style became
a liability in his work, and often the visuals would be elaborate distractions
from screenplays that lacked a challenging venture. Even “Sweeney Todd,” the
director’s biggest critical hit to date, was little more than a collection of
predictable sequences involving revenge, irony or eccentric characterizations
set to Stephen Sondheim music. Being different is a path of great distinction,
but when it is exhausted, often it can become just another formula.
And yet these core qualities
are exactly what make Burton the ideal director of Lewis Carroll’s zany novels. No
one else could take so direct an approach as he when adapting the material to
the big screen without sacrificing something imperative in the process; like
his own films, the books exist as if written in a vacuum, unconfined to the
structures of standard narratives and unwavering in their attempts to represent
the purity of an uncultivated imagination. The basic difference, of course, is
that Burton once knew how to tell an involving story, whereas
Carroll’s books are basically collections of illogical passages that lack
direction and tenacity. If the core audience has the energy to make sense of
the material, more power to them. Speaking from personal experience, attempts at
making some plausible sense of the mystery are almost as infuriating as the
mystery itself, and once its all over, you remember all the characters so
distinctively that it’s almost an insult that they are used in a narrative that
refuses to engage them in thoughtful (if crazy) storytelling. It seems to exist
just for curiosity’s sake.
Burton does not make a direct
adaptation of the material, thankfully; instead, he opts to age his heroine to
her mid-teens, place her in a plot situation that grants credence to the
existence of her dream world, and makes modifications to Wonderland itself that
allow its story to be about actual people and conflicts rather than puzzles
meant to mystify the protagonist. Unfortunately, the filmmakers are no closer
to fully understanding this material than Carroll himself was. The movie may be
a triumph of technical design and visual ideas, and the screenplay provides the
characters with new touches that keep the ideas consistent with today’s movie
fantasy, but ultimately, any improvements done to the source material are
momentary. Once the lights have gone up, no one is any closer to understanding
the appeal – or the objective – of all that transpires in this or any other
Wonderland. But of course, at this point, maybe we can expect no more.
In this one, at least, we are
guaranteed some unique interpretations, and the best of the lot, I think, is
the portrayal of the Mad Hatter (Johnny Depp), who is a bit more insane than we
remember him from the original stories. That may or may not have something to
do with the fact that his superior, the lovely White Queen (Anne Hathaway) was
pushed into exile by her jealous and cruel sister (Helena Bonham-Carter), and
Wonderland as a result has fragmented into a realm where insanity is no longer
the cheery trait so many embrace, but rather a handicap. The Hatter almost seem
self-aware of his underlying eccentricity, and at one point of the movie stares
back at Alice as if she isn’t the only one who wishes she was in a less
nonsensical place.
The movie takes great liberty
to play with the characterizations. The Cheshire cat is quirkier and friendlier
than normal and disappears into thin air as if made up of mist. The Red Queen
is an abnormal Napoleon-esque tyrant who keeps company only with those that
fear her wrath. The Knave of Hearts (Crispin Glover) is a power-hungry
opportunist that will swing whatever way the crown falls. Tweedle-Dee and
Tweedle-Dum are pudgy little boys who are agreeable only on wardrobe choices.
The Caterpillar is smarmy and arrogant and puffs on his hookah like it were a
third lung. And the Doormouse is feministic and fearless, and at one point
leaps onto the back of a Bandersnatch and plucks out its right eye with a
sewing pin.
Less fearless, perhaps, is
the screenwriter Linda Woolverton, who opts to close the movie with an action
sequence that involves Alice doing battle with the fearsome Jabberwock in order
to settle Wonderland’s power dispute between the sister monarchs. We can’t
honestly blame her; where, after all, does a story like this need to go? What
remains once the characters are in place and the conflict is finally at the
center of the crosshairs? To take the venture further into the unknown would be
to veer too far from the groundwork – a prospect that is appealing, yes, but
one that neither director nor screenwriter are willing to make. Their movie is
seeped in distinctive visuals, lavish photography and set design that recalls
the wondrous texture of “Harry Potter.” What, then, held them back on taking
further creative opportunities with the story? As it stands, their minor amendments
do only enough to generate something mildly enjoyable – serviceable for a story
that needed improvements in the first place, and passable for a director who has
felt misguided in recent times. Still, had they gone beyond the constraints of
the name value of this story and opted for a full departure, who knows what
they would have been capable of?
Fantasy (US); 2010; Rated PG for fantasy action/violence involving scary images and
situations, and for a smoking caterpillar;
Running Time: 108 Minutes
Cast:
Mia Wasikowska: Alice
Johnny Depp: Mad
Hatter
Helena Bonham Carter: Red Queen
Anne Hathaway: White
Queen
Crispin Glover: Stayne – Knave of Hearts
Matt Lucas: Tweedledee
/ Tweedledum
Stephen Fry: Cheshire
Cat
Michael Sheen: White
Rabbit
Alan Rickman: Blue
Caterpillar
Produced by Tim Burton, Katterli Frauenfelder, Derek Frey, Chris
Lebenzon, Mark L. Rosen, Joe Roth, Peter M. Tobyansen, Jennifer Todd, Suzanne
Todd, Linda Woolverton and Richard D. Zanuck; Directed by Tim Burton; Written
by Linda Woolverton; based on the novels “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”
and “Through the Looking Glass” by Lewis Carroll
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