Lewis Carroll’s “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” isn’t new to the “turn something innocent into a horror movie” fad. Brave gamers might remember diving into the twisted mind of American McGee’s Alice, or indie film diehards could have caught 2010’s Alice in Murderland. Writer and director Richard John Taylor explores forbidden but charted territory with his fresh psychological thriller Alice in Terrorland, which can’t help but earn comparisons to other horror forward Wonderland adaptations. Luckily for Taylor’s cerebrally nasty and visually slick reimagining, the average lookalike doesn’t set a high bar to clear — hardly spectacular, but damn sure better than something like Alice in Murderland.
Lizzy Willis stars as little orphan Alice (named after Carroll’s book), the only survivor of a house fire that claimed her parents’ lives. Alice relocates to her grandmother’s sprawling yet dilapidated estate, where Ruth (Rula Lenska) assumes caretaking duties. There are few rules, but none more important than staying out of the 6 acres of surrounding woods where poachers roam. Alice is taken by Ruth’s “Wonderland” until she falls ill, feeling increasingly lethargic between dashes to the bathroom. A bedridden Alice can only escape into her unconscious dreams, where Carroll’s characters present themselves in sinister forms to help uncover evil forces at work.
Taylor faces the challenge of recreating fantastical Alice in Wonderland elements with maybe the catering cost for Tim Burton’s 2010 Disney release. We never leave Ruth’s dingy manor as a result, restricting set designs to a single homestead. No rabbit holes, no Tweedledums or Tweedledees, and no invisible pink-and-purple cats. Alice in Terrorland is more of a psychological containment thriller than cartoonish portrayal of lumbering giants or caterpillars with hookah addictions. Taylor impressively evaluates and maximizes the film’s cheaper conditions, while simultaneously underwhelming when choked by the narrowest scope.
The “Wonderland” of it all isn’t that wondrous. Taylor essentially “Disneybounds” Alice’s imaginary guests, which is when Disney fans adjust their everyday wardrobe to mimic hallmark characters (cosplay without the costumes). The Rabbit (Steve Wraith) wears a bunny masquerade mask for distinction, while The Walrus (Rikki Kimpton) is a long-haired, greasy killer type who looks like he lures underage victims into an ice cream truck. Alice is an unlucky girl named after Carroll’s colorful literature — she isn’t the storybook Alice, nor is The Rabbit a human-sized animal who can tell time and exhibit anxious tics. This isn’t Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey, where Christopher Robin has to defend against the man-eating reimaginings of Hundred Acre’s residents. It makes narrative sense why Alice might see Carroll’s zany creations as fleshy and familiar. However, something is missing from Taylor’s grounded caricature interpretations.
Harry Tali Cord’s cinematography is most impressive, which grants the film an eerily dim atmosphere. Cord zooms on exposed drywall and cosmetic damage that sells the crumbly state of Ruth’s deteriorating residence, or finds the gothic beauty in flowy cobwebs, filling empty spaces between rickety banister spindles. Alice’s initial smiles upon gazing at Ruth’s spacious home feed into an opening credits sequence that twirls dense forests and exterior garden decorations in a kaleidoscope motion which feels ominously Gatsbyesque — the trees and hedges form the threat of dizzying mazes. Cord doesn’t benefit from the childlike visuals that populate more traditional Alice adaptations, but the photographer’s keen professional eye sets a chilling mood that conveys unsettled tension and clean techniques.
Unfortunately, Alice’s journey plays secondary to the gimmick put forward. Performances are surprisingly solid for a release of that nature (read: title), but the conflict feels underserved. Alice’s fictional run-ins with delinquents (like Jon-Paul Gates’ rambling The Mad Hatter) allow actors to mess around with their takes on iconic Wonderland characters, but the hallucinatory conversations can feel randomized. Alice retreats inward to face the grief and uncertainty that seeps into Ruth’s architecture (encountering cruel matriarchs with faces painted like The Joker) but also flimsy storytelling motivations. Ideas are sound, and ambitions are on target, but jagged storytelling pieces fit together like they’re hammered into place at a cost to overall cohesion.
Alice in Terrorland is better than I expected, but still not quite an essential addition to the grim fable canon. It’s the low-budget Alice in Wonderland you probably aren’t expecting, albeit in both beneficial and derogatory ways. Don’t expect to be scared out of your boots or mesmerized by daydreams where anything can happen. Taylor deescalates much of Carroll’s irregularities to camouflage what his production can’t achieve, which is an admirable trick yet unfulfilling at length come the film’s ultimate payoff. It’s got more in common with Spoonful of Sugar or Mother May I? than anything with “Alice” in the title — too pedestrian in the wrong moments and altogether unremarkable considering the usage of Alice’s reputation.
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