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The study of how children’s literature is adapted – or perhaps, re-interpreted – for adults is a topic in which I am becoming increasingly interested in. I think there is something so remarkable, exciting and terrifying about returning to a favorite childhood narrative, only to find it warped or twisted beyond the familiar - changed somehow, so that it speaks to us more as grown-ups than small children. This is exactly how I felt when watching Jan Svankmajer’s Alice (1988) after watching Disney's Alice in Wonderland (1951) (which I had not seen since I was a kid). I really, truly feel that Svankmajer’s Alice is intended for an adult audience – I definitely will acknowledge that watching this would have sent me running to hide under the covers if I had seen this when I was a child. Even now, at age twenty-three, it still frightened me a little!
While I did watch Disney’s Alice in Wonderland when I was younger, it was never my favorite Disney movie. I remember thinking Alice’s way of speaking (her diction, tone and mannerisms) were boring, too stiff and formal for my young ears. I never quite understood why the Mad Hatter and the March Hare were interesting, nor could really see what the lure of the White Rabbit was to Alice. The Queen of Hearts was ugly, but I think I knew that Disney would never actually show a head being cut-off, so she never scared me. I do remember liking the Cheshire Cat, if only because I’ve always been a cat-person. Despite the absurdity of the story, the characters and the plot, it’s always been for me an enjoyable movie. I found myself liking it more now as an adult, although that could plausibly be because I greatly enjoyed reading Lewis’s stories (I never read them as a kid). The Disney version is also entertaining: lots of brilliant color, and light-hearted, good-natured (albeit absurd) fun. We as the audience are delighted and thrilled to take part in Alice’s adventures in a Wonderland that is happy, bright, and interesting, full of catchy songs and exciting exploration. We see Alice as pretty, smart and full of emotion, and her ending is a happy one: she wakes up from her dream and everything is back to normal.
However, returning to Svankmajer’s Alice: WOW. I kept thinking I could do something else while the movie was playing – other homework, perhaps, or tidying up my apartment – but found myself unable to do so because of the lack of dialogue. Thus, forced to keep my eyes on the screen, I sat on the couch, fidgeting the whole time, taking glances at the clock and wondering how much longer this nightmare would continue (because, yes, it did feel like a nightmare to me). The constant repetition of the little girl’s mouth narrating the dialogue was like fingernails on the chalkboard to me. The tea party scene – which I had to suffer through again in class when we watched it then – dragged on, and on, and on, and on, with no end in sight. The slow, languid pace of the film heightened the unease I felt while watching, and I kept thinking to myself Why is Professor Hatfield making us watch this? Why, why?! The little girl playing Alice was cute, but somehow forbidding. Her clothes became dirty and tattered, she shrunk into a frightening doll (which totally reminded me of Chucky!) and her ending is not “happy” (at least I didn’t think so): she wakes up in her room, amongst all these possessions that have appeared in her dream, and finds that the stuffed white rabbit is gone for real. The scissors (a strangely haunting motif) she wields at the end make her seem like a creepy little kid, one I should run away from if I ever end up in a zombie/horror movie. Alice is devoid of emotion, a passive observer in her Wonderland, which perhaps is less a land of wonder and more like a house of horror. Seeing Svankmajer’s decrepit, decaying and dull world, I wanted to leave the nightmare and return to Disney’s pretty, sing-a-long vision!
Those are, of course, my own personal and perhaps hyperbolic feelings on the film. I know Alice is considered to be a cult classic, with a plethora of praise from critics, but it just made me feel uncomfortable. I think these feelings stem partly from my American-action-movie, bland cinematic upbringing, but also because of Svankmajer’s style of using ordinary objects in terrifying ways, which was the one element I did actually like and took notice of when watching and comparing the two films. Disney did this in part with the sequenced of birds created from pencils, umbrellas and horns as Alice cries, but they were cute, funny and – most importantly – non-threatening. Svankmajer instead has his heroine pull a sharp tack out of a jar of jam, find a rabbit who licks the sawdust from his open belly, wrestles with socks wriggling into holes like snakes – all these images are designed to send chills down our spines. This is why I believe that Svankmajer’s Alice is really for an adult audience. I think that when elements that would have entertained and excited us as children become startlingly horrible motifs, that is where differences lie between a story for children and a story for adults. Simply put, Disney’s version is made to delight and fascinate children and Svankmajer re-interpreted the story to provide a darker, more sinister take for adults.
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Alice (Neco z Alenky). Dir. Jan Svankmajer. First Run Features, 1988. Film.
Alice (Neco z Alenky). Dir. Jan Svankmajer. First Run Features, 1988. Film.