Many of us recall Disney’s first “Alice in Wonderland.” This animated spectacle formed many of our images of Alice, the Mad Hatter, and the Cheshire Cat. Now comes Tim Burton’s remake. Burton’s past work makes this project ideal for the director. Add in Johnny Depp as the Mad Hatter and the project appears to be headed for critical praise and box office gold.
But does this match made in Heaven work? Wonderland (or Underland as it is actually called) is a visual treat. Tim Burton’s strongest suit has always been his ability to both dazzle the eye and communicate plot through his visual landscapes. The 3-D element fails to live up to the “Avatar” standard but this is a minor point. The world created is still a site worth seeing. Overall, the acting is strong, too. Helena Bonham Carter is great as the Red Queen. Depp sparkles as yet another quirky character with unusual depth.
Burton wisely leaves aside the original Lewis Caroll works for a new story. It is 13 years after Alice’s original adventure, and she is now a 19 year old young women trapped in Aristocratic customs and marriage games. After facing a truly embarrassing proposal from an even more embarrassing lord, Alice runs off after a rabbit in dress clothes—yes, that one—and finds herself again in the magical world she traversed in her childhood. The movie eventually morphs into a tale of fate and war. The last part of the story becomes somewhat tired by the clichés, though not enough to sink the picture. At times, one wishes that the movie had been less driven by plot and more focused on characters and dialogue. So much happens in the film that it feels rushed, especially for a Tim Burton offering.
Themes abound in the tale of Underland. The film attempts to address the tension between fate and choice. Alice is annoyed at being constantly asked “Are you the Alice?” destined to return to Underland and defeat the Red Queen. Alice says that she makes her own choices, not some foreordained prophesy. But the reality is more complicated. Burton communicates an interplay between fate and choice that leaves them in tense dialogue. Can someone freely choose to fulfill a pre-determined event? What does this do both to choice and to destiny? Christianity struggles with similar themes. God’s rule of the world and our choices seem to partake of similar tensions. Only in the Bible, the debate is centered more firmly in relationship. Our choices do not interact with some impersonal fate; they interact with a personal Deity.
Relationships make up another theme in the movie. The Red Queen asks whether it is better to be feared than loved. This question is very old, dating at least back to Machiavelli. The Red Queen, of course, rules by fear. She threatens all opposition with imprisonment and, yes, decapitation. By such methods she keeps an iron grip on the kingdom. Yet deep down, she desires to be loved. Not just romantically but by the people of Underland and, we briefly see, her now dead parents. Her relationships with her people show the inadequacy of fear as a basis for communion.
Relationships between ruler and ruled must be built on trust and even affection. Only such bonds can transcend turmoil and reap something akin to justice. Only such bonds can move toward fulfillment of human longings. The Queen’s fearful tyranny shadows in some ways our sinful separation from God. We oppose a relationship built upon love. While we cannot make God fear us, we certainly try to place ourselves over Him, creating a relationship of painful discord. We may not impose fear on God; but we do cause fear—within our own embattled conscience.
The Queen’s reign of terror results from fears of her own. She has, well, a big head. I mean a really big head. This lack of proportion is a cause of incessant insecurity and self-loathing on her part. This insecurity and self-loathing causes her to lash out against others. She kills the king because she knew he would leave her. Those surrounding her adorn fake mis-proportions so their better physique will not incite her wrath. The world around her is a fake grotesque that merely masks bitter jealousy. Her preferred method of execution stems from her own self-image.
Here, we see the results of the Fall. When Adam and Eve ate the fruit, they saw they were naked. They covered themselves. Why? Because they felt both their own physical imperfections as well as the selfishness of their partner. Not only were they no longer perfect; they could not trust the other to accept them with those imperfections. The result was fear, loathing, and broken relationships. In the end, the Red Queen’s self-image leads both to her downfall and a lonely banishment, much like our first parents.
Thus, “Alice in Wonderland” gives the viewer much to see and much to consider. It is a visual spectacle that does not lose its touch with humanity. While far from a perfect film, “Alice” is a skillfully done work worthy of the price of admission.