Looking Through the Glass

 I rather enjoyed writing freely yesterday, so, as it is late and I am alone at the moment, I think I’ll do it again.

 Tonight I’d like to discuss Walt Disney’s "Alice in Wonderland". A brave little outing in the world of classical animation, which dared to upset the standard narrative feature by stringing together a series of vignettes that may as well have been their own individual shorts. The beauty of this, of course, lies in the fact that Alice herself is merely being carried through the fantastic on whimsy and curiosity alone: a construction of imagination that serves as a lively escape from the monotony of her daily life, which is, one can assume, dreadfully boring.

 But perhaps there is more… a white rabbit: a ruse, a gimmick, a fleeting representation of that side of life which children seek and grown ups disregard. And then there is the idea of ingestion. The idea that Alice willingly eats and drinks whatever she is presented with, without concern or apprehention. And why? So she may be able to delve further into the realm of fantasy. So that she may live out her dream.

 I am reminded of a short film entitled: The Red Balloon. For those who haven’t seen it, it’s a lovely little film about a small boy and a big red balloon. The balloon is the boy’s friend, and in many ways, a microcosm for all that is magical and special in a child’s world. Ultimately the balloon is not permitted to survive in our cruel society (Well, France’s anyway) but in the boy’s sorrow, he finds more balloons to support him and lift him up, mentally as well as physically. His spirit, then, cannot be defeated, regardless of what the world strips away. A child’s imagination is boundless.

 So Alice does what she must. You see, it is the prospect of understanding that drives her. Alice merely wishes, at least on the surface, to discover the origin and destination of this bizarre bunny rabbit wearing a waistcoat, grasping a watch. Interesting, isn’t it? The journey into this world is brought about by anxiety and bound by time. The rabbit is late. Alice’s curiosity, coming from a world of ettiquette, is peaked not merely by the prospect of a talking rabbit, but at the idea that there may be some kind of event to which he was late to. And that due to his lack of precision, he will surely meet trouble.

 While this world and the creatures which inhabit it are indeed more fun than the real one, it seems to me that Alice quickly realizes that it is a selfish one. Each creature is concerned primarily with their own welfare. Some hold stories of morality, others merely malice. Some spew advice in columns of smoke. All of this is observed, taken in by Alice, but none is truly received as Alice is confused and bewildered by these strange and, frankly, grotesque creatures.

I wonder about the morality presented here. I wonder, of course, about what exactly it is attempting to indite. For example: The Walrus and the Carpenter. The carpenter is talented, but dumb. The walrus is phenomenal at spinning fruitless yarns that relate in no way to the pertinent events occuring around him. The walrus uses this skill to convince the carpentar to build him shelter and subsequently lures a family of young oysters away from their mother and, ultimately, into his stomach. He is caught by the carpentar, in the end, and chased away. But the implication of it is simple: Heed the warning signs. Beware the smooth talking walrus.

 Yet, then we meet the catapillar. His advice (socratic in nature) seems to revolve around self discovery. In other words, this creature wanted Alice to discern an identity for herself, for it would be this, and only this, that would save her from an eternity of the woods she had become so deeply lost in. What does all of this mean?

 Well I often wonder that myself. What kind of adventure is this, truly? Is its fragmented plot a sign of poor writing, or strong structure? One thing is for sure, the movie met mixed results upon first opening. Many people were confused, and often offended as Alice consumes random liquids and, indeed, mushrooms to grow or shrink in size as her journey commences. It is in my humble opinion that this was yet another tie meant to connect her fantasy to our reality as her body was able to evolve with her mind as needed. But, perhaps, there was some intended commentary as hallicinagens were a very popular escape at the time of the film’s release.

 I write about Alice because I think it is a very powerful film. It challenges its audience, and it adds some depth to the Disney vault. There is a darkness to Alice in Wonderland that lacks in most films. A confusion. A sense of urgency constructed around identity that, I think, allows little boys and girls to see just how important it is to make your own decisions and ask the kinds of questions that may not be so obvious to ask. In the words of the catapillar: "Who are you?"

I wish to conclude before getting in too deep, as I could talk for a very long time about the Queen of Hearts. I love that she paints the white roses red, I love that she saturates what is pure with the color of blood, with malice and with lust. I believe that this film did something important for animation, and Walt Disney spoke to this on several occasions. It proved that the jounrey a child may take in a daydream may not always be sensical, rather laced with the ideologies (whether understood or not) questions that he or she faces on a daily basis.

 Alice has no idea whether her dreams are fiction or reality. She doesn’t know what to think really. But, in the end, I believe that Alice does know one thing, which, as before, applies to the physical as well as the mental side of mankind: When one ventures down the rabbit hole, one had better be prepared for what may lie at the bottom.

Goodnight and I wish you all a very, merry unbirthday,

A guy