This movie was a piece. With the exception of Helena Bonham Carter. I forgot how great she is; I just wish she would do more things not with her husband, and not Harry Potter. The Cheshire Cat was the only other exception to an otherwise dull and emotionally stunted story. I successfully avoided Alice on three occasions and, on this, I prided myself. Let me give you examples of prior struggles:
I know I am doomed to see certain movies. When Spider-Man 3 was about to come out, I thought to myself if I didn’t see it, that would be a really big step for me. Of course I saw it – alone – and I pretty much loved it. So that’s a happy story. Here’s another happy story: Transformers 2 had arrived in theaters. I was very excited. But I knew I was going to feel awful exiting the theater, undoubtedly alone, and I’d walk into the daylight feeling bloated, nauseas, and in despair. Transformers 2 was my siren and it was only a matter of time. One day after work I went to an ATM, took out twenty dollars – I was working around Times Square at the time – and I was headed straight towards a MULTIPLEX when I surprised myself and got on the subway instead. In the subway car, there was a man I had seen a couple of times before. He carried a duffel bag and very cordially asked passengers for money. Not for himself, but for children with AIDS. The money, he said, was going directly to a fund for these kids to go to Six Flags Great Adventure. I had to smile. That sounded great. (I actually had a horrible time at Six Flags on my ninth birthday. I was in denial that I was tall enough for the Batman ride, so I waited in line for three hours, listening to the Prince soundtrack over and over, only to inevitably be told I was too short to ride.) Irregardless of my own problems with Six Flags and my vow never to return – a vow I have kept – the idea of kids with AIDS going there in a big group sounded amazing. But I had no small change. Only the twenty dollar bill. So I promised myself the twenty dollars that would have otherwise gone to Transformer 2 was now spent. I handed the man the money. The expression on his face could have warmed a pie. And I bet I know what you’re thinking. That money wasn’t going towards any kids; it was going in the man’s pocket. Still! That smile was worth it! (To be clear, my intention telling this story was not to portray myself as a nice guy. I just wanted to illustrate the lengths I will go to not to live our mantra.)
But here’s the thing: my family rolled into town. And as soon as the word “Alice” was uttered, I said, “Ooooooh,” like a man who has no self-control.
As a whole, Alice was boring. It might have been better if it was condensed and had no plot. It was one of those stories where the protagonist’s destiny is already written. The climax of Alice’s adventures in Wonderland has literally been drawn out on a scroll. We know what she’s going to do at the end of the movie; it’s just a matter of time until she does it. This can be draining. For instance, you’ll be having an amusing scene with Anne Hathaway concocting a shrinking potion, but then when Hathaway (The White Queen) refers to Alice’s upcoming showdown – I’m going to ruin it – with the Jabberwocky, it reinforces that we are far, far away from the third act.
The advertisements for Alice made Johnny Depp as The Mad Hatter seem like he would be the comic relief. He was not. He reminded me of a guy I used to know. He was very funny. Great in crowds. He wanted to be a stand-up comic. But whenever I was alone with him, he would turn into a whiner: “Why doesn’t he like me? He doesn’t even talk to me.” It was a drag. Depp’s Mad Hatter performs well in crowds, but whenever he is alone with Alice, he becomes soppy, big eyed, and needy.
In the end, Alice is just another example of the Tim Burton brand. Isn’t Burton a little embarrassed to be making movies that everyone expects him to make? Tree branches twisted in just the way they are twisted in Sleepy Hollow and on the poster of Big Fish. Perhaps it is easier to make “A Tim Burton Film” than to try to break his self-imposed mold. Alice feels like many of his recent movies: lazy. And it is possible to you’re your material seriously and have a sense of humor at the same time. That’s what Burton did in all his earlier work. Now I feel it is easier for him not to fight what the public – and the studios – expect of him: another Tim Burton Film.
