Alice in Wonderland (1985)

This is probably the worst adaptation of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland I have ever seen, and I’ve seen at least a dozen. I don’t know what the best one is. Most of them have problems of one kind or another: they work too hard to find a didacticism that Carroll’s work is without, or they lean too hard on a manufactured darkness, or they meld Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass together in a thematically senseless way.

Carroll wanted to entertain children, in particular girls, not teach them lessons; most of the songs and poems are parodies of moralistic rhymes for children. He had high standards for the amount of surrealism and uncertainty that little girls could handle, but he wasn’t attempting to corrupt or frighten them. He was a brilliant mathematician who loved sneaking logic puzzles into his jokes, but he wasn’t writing for adults.

It must be difficult, to capture the tone of the Alice books and Alice the character, as so many adaptations fail to do it. Alice is a serious little girl, who wants to be taken seriously, as most growing children do. She is dreamy and imaginative, but literal minded and very concerned with fairness; again, like most small children. She is rarely delighted by what she sees in either Wonderland or Looking-Glass Land; she is usually perplexed or annoyed. She is focused on her goals in both places: get into the garden, get to the end of the chess board and become a queen. She likes knowing what the rules are, and is irritated when the rules change. She likes showing off her knowledge and her maturity. The denizens of both books are neither impressed nor even especially concerned with her: at best they show her a kind of distracted goodwill, and at worst they are hostile and insulting.

This adaptation of Alice doesn’t get the tone right, even a little bit. Alice herself is too cute and cheerful. The creatures she encounters are, for the most part, too friendly. They all seem to be waiting around for Alice to show up so they can perform for her; half of the anarchic fun of the books is the sense that Alice is walking through a world with its own rules, unknown to her, that can scarcely be bothered with her existence. This Wonderland, and this Looking-Glass Land, are far too safe and orderly.

What this adaptation does have, though it ends up being a mixed blessing, is completion. This is the only version I can recall that includes absolutely everything, and does it in order, and doesn’t attempt to mix and match pieces from the two volumes. Wonderland and Looking-Glass are two distinct volumes, each with their own themes and internal logic. This adaptation keeps them separate, as they should be. There is a clear part one and part two, and every element is in its proper place.

Why is it a mixed blessing? Because it’s clear that the only reason for this completion is that it allows for more star cameos. Are the Lory and the Dodo essential characters? They sure aren’t, but check out Hollywood legends Donald O’Connor as the Lory and Shelley Winters as the Dodo! Is the Gryphon your favorite? Probably not, but your grandparents will love him when played by Sid Caesar! And wait - is that Telly Sevalas as the Cheshire Cat? Is that Ernest Borgnine as the Lion? Is that the Patrick Duffy as the Goat?

This cast is bonkers, and most of the actors just seem to be there to fill out the all-star roster. None of them, even the talented ones giving good performances, are what you could call at the top of their game. They’re mostly stars of yesteryear who look half-embarrassed to be there, and younger types who seem hopelessly out of place in such an old-fashioned extravaganza. Did John Stamos, in a thankless role as the Messenger, lose a bet? What else is he doing here?

There are exceptions. Carol Channing is charmingly and appropriately nuts as the White Queen:

Karl Malden had seen much, much better days, but he’s well cast as the Walrus, as is Louis Nye as the Carpenter:

The best casting choice has to be Lloyd Bridges as the White Knight. He has the perfect kind of demented, clumsy, well-meaning sweetness that imbues the character as written. The White Knight is the only character with genuine good will for Alice; Carroll apparently based him on himself. Bridges couldn’t not play this role right:

But he still has to sing a shitty song, and the songs in this are really, really shitty. Again, this adaptation exists to provide roles for as many stars as possible, and they each got a song whether Carroll gave them one or not. Consider it a mercy that I can’t find a clip of poor Sammy Davis, Jr. as a rapping caterpillar (I’m dead serious), but look at this sad spectacle:

And consider it an additional mercy that I can’t find any clips of Ringo Starr as the Mock Turtle, a role for which I can only hope John Lennon’s ghost is still haunting the shit out of him.

Why do I own this mess, do you ask? As is probably clear, I love the Alice books dearly, and have since I was a child. This is the closest thing to a faithful adaptation I’ve ever found. There are more artistic versions: Jan Svankmajer’s Alice is clever and weird and dreamlike, and probably my favorite, but it’s Svankmajer’s vision, not Carroll’s. As far as I’ve been able to find, Carroll’s vision hasn’t been attempted; people keep overinterpreting it, adding too much or taking too much away. This is, strangely, both the best version of Alice and the worst one.

Would I recommend?

Oh lord, no. I mean, maybe. It’s certainly an experience, but it’s not enough fun to justify the parts that are plain tedious, and I’ve never in my life been filled with as much secondhand embarrassment as I was when I watched Ringo in that damn turtle costume. Watch it drunk, if you must watch it at all.

Clips:

See above. And see this promo, for a sense of the intended audience: