“Well, that was a perfect little post-modern fairy tale!” As we left the theater, I couldn’t help but reflect on the message Tim Burton’s latest gothic sensation had been communicating – one that’s a bit subtler than the Hot Topic crowd is probably used to, but that nevertheless resonated with all of us, and rightly so. Fair warning: this review is a little bit spoiler-y.
Burton’s Alice is an odd mix of sequel and remake: it occurs chronologically 13 years after the events of Alice in Wonderland but is a repetition of many of the same themes (such as identity and the nature of reality) found in Carroll’s novel and its various and sundry adaptations.
The film begins with a young Alice complaining to her visionary father of a recurring nightmare involving – you guessed it – Wonderland. Her father comforts her and she sleeps. Fast-forward 13 years to Alice on her way to her own engagement party – though nobody told her. The few minutes we observe her before she falls down the rabbit hole are enough to learn that she is fiercely independent, disdainful of high/proper/adult society and someone who will not be forced into a life she will not choose (insert cheer from the Hot Topic crowd here).
The rabbit leads her back to Unterland (which we learn is the correct pronunciation of Alice’s childhood ‘dream’), where a debate ensues among various characters – including Alice herself – as to whether she’s the ‘right Alice’. The wise old caterpillar settles this much the way he did in the book, by asking Alice (through a cloud of hookah smoke), “Who are you?”
[He then declares that she is “not that Alice”. Since we viewers clearly know that this, is in fact the Alice, the scene reminded me very much of the encounter between Neo and the Oracle in The Matrix (which itself owes much to Carroll’s Alice, as Morpheus himself acknowledged in the film). I only add this to point out that we are all very much dated by the fairy tales that shape us. Or shaped by the fairy tales that date us. Or something. It was fun to see how Carroll shaped the Wachowski brothers and how they in turn influenced Burton.]
The central conflict of the film revolves around the fact that Alice is prophesied to be the catalyst who will settle the on-going conflict between the tyrannical Red Queen (played marvelously by Helena Bonham Carter) and her little sister, the White Queen (Anne Hathaway). Here, Burton masterfully displays their conflict as a petty sibling rivalry whose fallout has been disasterous for the whole of Unterland. Bonham Carter’s Red Queen is not so much tyrannical as she is self-conscious and petty. And Hathaway’s White Queen is far from an ideal, messianic savior. She’s kinder true, but also a bit dim – we were 
never quite sure if really knew what was going on in Unterland. Their apocalyptic confrontation is played out on a large chess board of all things, and we can’t help but wonder that neither Queen fights her own battles – the Red Queen summons her terrifying Jabberwocky while the White Queen waits and hopes for her own Champion – a literal knight in shining armor.
And caught in the middle of all of it is Alice herself, who is still being told what to do, who is still surrounded by those who would tell her who she should be. Early in the film, she vows that she is the master of her own destiny, and that no matter what some scroll says, she doesn’t have it in her to do any slaying.
Of course, from the start we’ve know Alice is the right Alice for the job, and so the joy of the film is to watch her discover depths within herself of which she’d formerly been unaware. She’s guided first by her father’s example – he told her that he often believed in six impossible things before breakfast, and that all the best people are bonkers. And 
where would any of us be without our community? Alice is no different, and it’s through her interactions with the long-forgotten denizens of Underland that she comes truly to understand her value. That’s a great thing, too, because her supporting cast are the heart of the film. My two personal favorites were the Chesire Cat – who manages to find both a backbone and a heart despite his well-developed ‘evaporating skills’ – and Johnny Depp’s much-advertised Mad Hatter. Every Depp performance gets a lot of press, and it’s no secret that he’s Burton’s go-to guy (this film is their seventh together). But when you see him in this film, it’s a no-brainer. I was afraid I’d see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Pt 2, but my fears were groundless. Depp’s Hatter is tragic, hilarious, loyal, cunning and brave. And maybe because that sounds like a crazy combination, it works perfectly.
In the end, Alice finds her identity (yes, as that Alice) not in who everyone tells her she’s supposed to be, but in the example set by her father and in the strength she draws from her community. Her destiny becomes her choice, and she discovers a true and profound joy - not to mention quite a few great adventures.
In short, this is a fun and light-hearted movie. It’s got real dangers that only pave the way for true heroism. It’s big on generosity, friendship and love, and it’ll kick-start your imagination. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for an adventure!
