Fall from grace

"Alice in Wonderland"
Director: Tim Burton
Starring: Mia Wasikowska, Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter
Rating: 1.5 out of 5 popcorns 

With an uninspired remake of "Alice in Wonderland," director Tim Burton solidifies his standing as perhaps the most overrated director currently working. Since he peaked in the mid-'90s with his masterpiece "Ed Wood" (1994), Burton has focused on remaking treasured works that were considered untouchable. From the laughable "Planet of the Apes" (2001) to his disappointing remake of "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" (2005) and mediocre adaptation of Stephen Sondheim's "Sweeney Todd" (2007), Burton's creative edge has been noticeably softened.

Few of Burton's devout followers realize that his films are routinely more expensive than Steven Spielberg's projects. His films are not merely formulaic, but they follow a strict narrative pattern he's created for his hyper-stylized universe. Were it not for Johnny Depp, Burton's work would be all but intolerable.

The Alice of Burton's "Wonderland," the very promising Mia Wasikowska, is a 19-year-old who resembles the heroine of "Pride and Prejudice" more than the protagonist of Lewis Carroll's novel. Upon being offered the hand of an awkward and unappealing young lord, Alice escapes down a rabbit hole and into a fairy-tale world populated by the likes of a hookah-smoking caterpillar (Alan Rickman), the perpetually grinning Cheshire Cat (Stephen Fry) and the storied Mad Hatter (Johnny Depp).

Alice is welcomed warmly by the Mad Hatter and his occasionally hilarious posse, but she soon finds herself out of favor with the villainous Red Queen (Helena Bonham Carter). Upon being exiled, Alice soon forges a bond with the Red Queen's sister, the angelic White Queen (Anne Hathaway). Heated conflict arises in Wonderland, culminating in Alice's heroic battle with a jabberwocky on 'Frabjous Day.'

Disney's latest rehashing of "Alice in Wonderland" is not necessarily devoid of wonderment. It just feels manufactured. Rather than experiment with the story, as Czech filmmaker Jan Svankmajer did to tremendous artistic effect with "Alice" (1988), Burton submits to the trappings of the Disney machine. The picture is marketed as a star vehicle for Johnny Depp, who in actuality has very little screen time, just one example of Disney misleading its audience to fill seats.

The special effects procured from the picture are certainly aesthetically pleasing, but the acting is, quite shockingly, the most commendable aspect of the production. Depp flaunts his oddball charm with dependable grace, and Wasikowska really owns the film as the titular character. Rickman and Fry provide outstanding voice work, while Anne Hathaway demonstrates why she is widely held as one of the most endearing actresses in the industry.

Despite the restrictions inherently placed on Disney productions, the brunt of the blame still lies with the film's supposedly virtuosic director. Burton continues to insist on casting his wife, Helena Bonham Carter, in a lead role in all his films, when no one else will give her work. And for good reason: She is talentless, can play only one character and is positively annoying. The director once lauded as a creative genius appears to be more intent on furthering the action than highlighting the eccentricities of Lewis Carroll's work of art.

Burton's inability to compound a masterpiece out of Carroll's text is a monumental disappointment and a sign of this formerly master filmmaker's demise as an artist. 

Once Hollywood's most innovative and wonderfully bizarre director, the creative force behind the likes of "Frankenweenie" (1984), "Pee-wee's Big Adventure" (1985), "Beetlejuice" (1988) and "Edward Scissorhands" (1990) should be peaking right now, not miring himself in generic Disney fare. The director of "Ed Wood" is a shadow of his former self, abducted by the allure of Hollywood grandeur from the realm of limitless artistic expressivity.

smlittma@syr.edu